//------------------------------// // 13 - Question // Story: First Hoof Account // by TCC56 //------------------------------// Lunch taken in the eastern solarium was a bit of a deviation from the norm: Sunset's favorite chef, Gastronomique, was on vacation back to his griffon homelands. Instead lunch had been prepared by the pointedly less talented Hazelblossom and consisted of an eggplant gratin with a saffron-dusted apple salad on the side. It was acceptable. But the food being served was only about third on Sunset's mental list. No, it sat squarely below Cadance's current attitude and how that related to the painting both of them had been doing. And while they were taking a break, a glance over at the canvas told quite a story about the alicorn's mood. The last three times they had painted together, Cadance's work had been almost insufferably happy: even her choices in landscapes were consistently sun-lit, cheerful, and filled with bright colors. Today's, though? Today, Cadance was painting in stormclouds. She had strayed from her usually lifelike portraits of what was around her to something more distant. A seascape - from her old home of Florentina, Sunset assumed - that showed a rocky shore cast under a heavy grey-black sky. (Sunset, on the other hand, continued to delve into more abstract choices. Today, her work was an attempt to express the idea of flight - her dreams of alicorn wings and taking to the sky, rendered in oil on canvas.) Knowing full well how bad the conversation might go, Sunset waited until Cadance finished eating before bringing the subject up. "So what's bugging you?" Cadance bobbled her cutlery: her magic was still unsteady enough that a simple awkward question threw off her control. They would have to work on that. "Nothing?" Cadance lied like a fire insisting it wouldn't burn you. Sunset rolled her eyes, not even dignifying the denial with words. "Nothing!" came another empty protest. This time, Sunset pressed a little harder. "Come on, Cadance. I can tell you're in a bad mood and--" "How can you tell?" Cadance fired back, responding with disarming speed. It took a moment - Sunset reeled at just how snippy the alicorn was today. But she had an answer, fortunately. "You told me that you use painting as a way to work out your emotions, and what you're painting today makes it pretty obvious that you aren't your usual sunny self." Cadance's face brightened. "You actually listened when I said that?" In response, Sunset snorted. "You seriously think I don't listen? I might not take other ponies' advice much, but that doesn't mean I ignore potentially useful information." Which was a bit of a lie, but Sunset didn't voice that part. "Besides, the whole point was getting to know each other more. I'd be a real jerk if I ignored you trying to do exactly what I asked." Cadance's ears went flat. "Yeah. A jerk." It took half a second for Sunset to fill in the mental blanks. "So you had tea with Blueblood earlier this week." For the second time in as many weeks, she failed to add. "And it was lovely!" Cadance's anger spiked as her voice rose to a near-shout. A warning glare from Sunset tamped her anger - and volume - back down again. "We really did have a wonderful time. He and I had tea in the south garden, near the greenhouse. You know, the one with the foliage from Farasi?" A nod from Sunset was enough to prompt Cadance to continue. "It was great. We talked and laughed for hours." Cadance trailed off and went silent until Sunset pushed again. "But?" "But two days later I started hearing the rumors." Cadance spoke through clenched teeth, a slight hiss vibrating her trailing s. "And the day after that the rumors were confirmed when I started being congratulated. Blueblood's been telling everypony our tea-times were dates. Now half the school thinks he's my coltfriend." Sunset chose her words carefully. "And he's not?" No judgement, but a little bit of a question and keeping things open-ended. And just unsure enough to provoke a reaction. The provocation worked: Cadance let out a growl of frustration. "I would have considered it before, but not now!" Outwardly, Sunset nodded with a solemn, sour face. Internally, she was grinning ear to ear. Blueblood had overplayed his hand! "I want to say I'm surprised, but I'm not. Blueblood's tried this before. Well," she waffled, "Not exactly this but it fits how he works." Picking up a bit more of the apple salad, Sunset motioned with her fork. "Mares like you and me? We're just something he chases because he thinks we'll boost his status and he assumes we're using him for the same thing. The first time he decided he wanted to start dating, he flat out told me what time the carriage would arrive to pick me up and to dress, and I quote, 'at least like an eight'." "He didn't even ask first," Cadance rumbled. She was still for a moment before throwing her fork onto her plate with a clatter. "That is not how you date a pony!" Now, it wasn't a surprise that the Princess of Love had strong opinions about the subject. Nor was it that even with her youth she had a certain level of instinctual expertise. There was an entirely different reason why Sunset froze up when Cadance said that: because behind the words, she heard the ringing bell of opportunity at the door. Weeks of work had led to this point, and Blueblood would never know how much he had messed up. Sunset's evaluation a few minutes earlier had been wrong. He hadn't just messed up his chances with Cadance; he had given Sunset the perfect opportunity to move forward to the next stage in her plans. At first, she couldn't speak - her lips were suddenly far too dry and her throat was tight as an Appleoosan knot contest. Sunset licked her lips and pushed to force her words out. "Cadance? What is the right way to date a pony?" The time between Sunset asking that question and Cadance answering it couldn't have been much more than a second. But it seemed to stretch infinitely. Everything Sunset had worked for the last two and a half months relied on this: if Cadance took the question poorly in the heat of her Blueblood-fueled frustration, it would destroy the rapport the two of them had built. But if Cadance answered well? It solved the only real gap in Sunset's plans. The path to becoming an alicorn would open up, and Sunset's future would be assured. Sunset was still as stone in that second. She didn't frighten easily, but she was too scared to breathe. Her heart stopped beating, frozen in the tension. Despite Sunset's distress, Cadance wasn't in a rush to answer. She loudly hummed in thought. "Well," she decided on after painfully too long, "I can't really speak for other ponies, but if it were me?" Sunset's heart beat again. "I'm a little bit of an old fashioned romantic," Cadance admitted bashfully. "I know that probably seems a bit stereotypical for a pink pony all about love, but I really do enjoy it." After taking a bite of the salad to buy a little recovery time, Sunset pressed. "What, like a strong stallion knight in shining armor?" Cadance laughed. "No, no. Not romance novels, I mean being romantic. Little things like using the language of flowers to bring your special somepony a sweet message, or surprising them with a home-cooked meal of their favorite foods." She got around to retrieving her fork, hovering it in front of her and inspecting to make sure her earlier throw hadn't gotten it dirty. "Before dating, you need to ask them. And asking somepony out for the first time should be something both of you remember for the rest of your relationship, if not the rest of your lives. It's making a first impression - even if you already know each other, you're introducing yourself as a romantic partner instead of a friend." Slowly, Sunset nodded as she processed that. "Okay, that makes sense. So I would want to make a big splash when I asked them." But Cadance shook her head in response. "Not always. Not every pony wants something big, but every pony wants something that shows you care." She stopped, eyes widening before she abruptly changed tracks. "Sunset Shimmer! Are you asking because there's a pony you're interested in?" In retrospect, it was a question Sunset should have anticipated. She hadn't - and that was her own foolish fault. So all she could do was look surprised and guilty. "Uh, well..." That answer was enough for Cadance, and her grin grew several sizes. All the talk about Blueblood was banished from the alicorn's thoughts, replaced by the siren song of shipping. "You have to tell me the details!" "No." Cadance pouted. "Please?" "Absolutely not." A deeper pout. Sunset rolled her eyes. "Cadance, if you keep doing that, I won't even ask you for advice." With a long-suffering (and overdramatic) sigh, Cadance let it drop. "Fiiiiiine." Her disappointment was quickly replaced with an impish smile. "So you want my help?" That grin made Sunset hesitate - for a moment. "Yes. I know I'm not, uh..." "Not the best with ponies sometimes," Cadance completed a bit too quickly. "Alright, so like I said: your number one thing to remember is that when you ask? You want to make it memorable, but you also want them to feel desired. They need to know from the start that you're interested in them. Not money or power or their body, them." Sunset nodded slowly, pushing down the irony of Cadance's statement. "Right, I think I can do that. At least in general." "Flowers," was Cadance's next command. "Flowers are non-negotiable, but don't do more than that. Some ponies try to lead with big shows of wealth and giving gifts like jewelry or perfume. You save that for once you're sure you've got a relationship, not when you're asking to start one. Bigger gifts are a great way to scare somepony off or make them feel uncomfortable from the pressure." Again, a nod from Sunset. "Right, I don't want to make her feel uncomfortable." It was a tiny scrap of information, but Cadance's eyes glittered. "Her, right." Sunset winced. It was a potentially useful screw-up, but a legitimate mistake. She never liked making those. "Anyway. Flowers, no other gifts to start. Show that I care about her as a pony. Don't make a huge deal out of it, but make sure it's memorable." She paused, glancing to the alicorn across the table. "How do I make it 'memorable'?" There, Cadance hesitated. "Well, that's tougher without knowing more about the situation. Location is a good start. Picking a place that's meaningful for both of you and brings up other good memories helps. Or someplace that's going to become somewhere meaningful after you ask." "Uh huh, uh huh..." Sunset nodded with each syllable as she committed the advice to memory. "So where would you pick? If you were going to do that." And Cadance deflected the question with ease. "That would depend a lot on who you're asking. I can't decide for you where is meaningful for you and your possible special somepony." Sunset frowned but dropped the subject. Another push might tip things too far. "Yeah, makes sense. So, flowers, a good location, and then I just... ask?" "Well, that's not everything-everything," Cadance hedged. "You could make a big deal about it when you ask her. Romances are full of big, showy ways to ask somepony out. But that's something you want to play by ear, and usually it's way too much. Every pony has different tolerances, like introverts versus extroverts." Before Sunset could ask about that Cadance pushed on. "The last thing you need is the date. You want to know what the first date is going to be before you ask. That might seem like a no-brainer, but it's also easy to put off and forget when you're preparing. So decide in advance where you're asking them to go, what to do, and when." Slowly, Sunset nodded once more. "So schedule everything in advance." Cadance quickly amended Sunset's mental note. "But make sure you can cancel or reschedule it. Just because you're asking is no guarantee they're going to say yes or that they aren't already doing something that day. Starting off expecting them to drop everything just for you isn't a good first impression either." She paused for a moment. "Oh, and don't be coy. The worst case isn't them saying no. It's them saying yes and not understanding that it's a date-date, only to later be surprised and say they thought you asked them as a friend." Sunset grimaced. That had almost exactly been her plan for Step 3: going out with Cadance several times on 'dates' that could be plausibly deniable as just being friends. Sunset quickly scratched that out in her mental planning and thanked her stars for the warning. "Exactly," Cadance firmly stated, completely misunderstanding Sunset's reaction. "I'll be sure." Sunset finally got around to forking up some of lunch again. "Thanks, Cadance. I was sure you'd have plenty of experience with dating and stuff." Cadance got rather quiet, eyes suddenly very intent on her seltzer water. "...Cadance?" "I, ah." The alicorn hesitated again. "I don't actually have much hooves-on experience," she admitted. "Back home, I was the only pegasus in an earth pony village, so I wasn't really popular. Most of that advice was just... romance novels and instinct." Sunset motioned at Cadance with her gratin-laden fork. "Instinct from the Princess of Love." The title tasted ashy on Sunset's tongue and was quickly covered with eggplant and cheese. Cadance's cheeks flushed. "That title still makes me feel a little weird." "Good thing I almost never use it," Sunset joked. "I'm glad you don't. I like just being Cadance with you." The alicorn shot her companion a demure smile. With only a mild amount of mockery, Sunset held up her hoof to swear. "Then I will never call you 'princess' again, unless I'm forced to by Princess Celestia." In turn, Cadance held up her hoof. "And I swear that I'll do everything I can to help you get a date with the pony you're interested in." Sunset just barely managed to not roll her eyes at the irony.