//------------------------------// // 2. A Pony Of Worth // Story: Stalliongrad Nights // by TCSNxs //------------------------------// Stalliongrad Nights by: TCSNxs Chapter 2 A Pony Of Worth It should be noted that while the citizens of Stalliongrad value hard work a great deal, they also value wit, kindness and compassion. Indeed, a pony could go a long way within the confines of the city if they measure themselves against those ideals. ~ Excerpt from "A Traveler's Guide to Stalliongrad" The sun was bright that late summer day. Though autumn was approaching, it felt farther away than it really was. Under Celestia’s gentle sun, two foals played in a sandbox in the middle of the park. One was a dark charcoal pegasus. Her mane was onyx with streaks of white. The other was decked in cream colored fur with a two-toned mane of pink and white. Her eyes sparkled as the sand began to form into her creative rendition of Canterlot Castle. She wasn’t adept at the magic of her heritage yet, but she had a sharp mind. Her brother was off playing on the swings, chatting with a few young colts. She admired her brother’s ability to strike up a conversation with anypony. As the sand piled up, she looked to the charcoal filly who was busy stroking the mane of a doll. It was Smarty Pants! As the cream filly looked on, she silently decided to see if her brother’s social skills ran in the family. “Whatcha doin’,” the words were layered in innocence, but mischievousness was there. “Playin’ with Smarty Pants,” was the young pegasus’s reply. She tossed the doll as high as her hoofs would let her and caught it a second later. “Can I play with her for a minute?” “I have to go soon.” The pegasus gave the foal unicorn a sad glance. It was so pretty that day. It was one of thousands that the pegasus would experience, but youth always lived by the concept of Carpe Diem. The little cream filly watched doll go up again. Whether by instinct or clever plan, she bolted as the doll came down. She snatched up Smarty Pants in her mouth and attempted her very first felony, Grand Doll Larceny. Sure, Smarty Pants would be produced for years, but one would never knew, hence the flight. She didn’t get very far. “FLEUR DE LIS!” “Oh horseapples,” the young filly cursed as she was encompassed in pale gray aura. She lost hold of the doll as both floated off the ground. The charcoal foal had tears building in her eyes. It all happened too fast, but she understood a few things. The first was her papa gave her that doll as a Hearth’s Warming gift. The second was that Smarty Pants was no longer in her hoofs. As perpetrator and victim floated back towards the sandbox, the pony making the Citizen’s Arrest came into view. A tall, slender mare with a blond mane, bright eyes and a light grey coat cantered to the sandbox, a cross look on her face as she glared at her daughter. She maneuvered Smarty Pants back to the waiting young foal’s grasp. The young foal gave her hero a wide smile while her heart raced. Her small wings fluttered as she hugged and rocked the doll. The good samaritan gave the now-happy filly a kind smile in return. The young criminal was unwillingly hauled away in that magical grasp as her mother coaxed her daughter along. They didn’t spend so much time together for various reasons that adults called “Responsibility,” so each day was precious. Such events, though, tended to skew those days towards a negative light. Fleur was resigned to her fate. She learned a long ago that she couldn’t break the bonds of those particular hoofcuffs, so she crossed her hooves in a final act of defiance as she awaited sentencing. Under the shade of a random tree in the park, Fleur’s mother put her down and released her hold, her mother’s long horn growing still. Fleur looked up to her mother. She tried to act in even greater defiance, but against the penetrating stare that all mother’s get when they gain that title, the defiance was left to blow away into nothingness. “You know better, Fleur,” came her mother’s soft voice. There was ever an edge of kindness, but mixed in was the contemplation of how many weeks the sentence would be, “Why did you take that foal’s doll?” Fleur was left in a quandary. She could feign ignorance as to her motivations, but her mother had a particular knack for patience. Once she spilled some orange juice on a rug and was forced to pull an all-nighter until she fessed up. She thought about blaming the other filly for some random reason. Perhaps she could make up the story as she went along? No. Odds are her mother saw the whole thing. She went with the last and only option. Loosing tears that all children do whenever the world seems to close in menacingly around them, she answered “Because I wanted it.” “But you have one at home. Why that filly’s Smart Pants?” Mothers are also practiced psychiatrists. Fleur watched as she dug a hoof into the ground. Why was it? Was she jealous because she didn’t have her’s at that very moment? Did she want to play with it so bad that she would hurt another pony to do it? There really wasn’t time to ponder. Her mother was waiting. “I don’t know,” came the response as she continued to stare at the ground. She didn’t know why. The world was so confusing sometimes! Her mother judged it an honest response and put a hoof to her daughter’s chin, ”Look at me.” She raised her daughter’s face so their eyes were level. Fleur saw a world of understanding there. Kindness. Compassion. Love. Also her pending doom. “We don’t take what isn’t ours. You can hurt another pony’s feelings that way.” Fleur glanced to the sandbox. The young charcoal pegasus was gone. Somehow that felt metaphorical, though she didn’t understand what that word meant. Maybe it was in one of those magazines with the pretty ponies that her brother kept under the mattress? The ones she wasn’t supposed to know about? Her mother continued on. “Now why don’t we take what doesn’t belong to us?” This was the same practiced slogan, though she understood little of what it meant at that age. “Because you want me to become a pony of worth.” Her mother’s eyes sparkled a bit. This pleased Fleur to no end. Maybe she could get out of this with her fur intact. “Good, my daughter.” She embraced the young cream colored filly in a hug. Fleur always marveled how her mother’s mane smelt like dandelions. It reminded her of a lot of things. Fleur almost smiled. Mom’s forgiveness seemed to make the world’s randomness meaningful. The mother broke the tender hug and returned to looking into Fleur’s eyes. "You’re grounded.” “Oh...” ~(0)~ “Horseapples.” The mare rounded a corner with all the agility of a airborn Wonderbolt. She was running late for a meeting with her brother, Fancy Pants. There was always much to discuss and their time was always limited. Her body was a touch taller than the average pony, with an all-around lithe build around and sharp, angular features. A split second glance could cause anypony to confuse her for Royalty. It didn’t help that three of her namesake were her Cutie Mark. It was rumored her family tree had royal blood within it, but somehow the wings skipped a generation or six. Fleur de Lis couldn’t give it much thought though. She was going. to. be. late. The early summer day was spectacular as always within the confines of Canterlot. Princess Falls always provided a dramatic clash with the mountain. The capital wasn’t just built with purest grandeur mind. Being build high on the side of the mountain made it a very defensible location, while being the near the center of Equestria gave it a strategic importance. As much of a fortress as it was meant to be, the consideration was secondary compared to the ocular spectacle it really was. The high towers of Canterlot Castle housed the Regents of the Sun and the Moon. Positioned opposite the mountain, the massive complex served to create a giant valley of living art. The streets and shops were made with equal attention given to beauty and functionality. Tall shops and brightly colored manses decorated the thoroughfares of the Canterlot. Dashing down one of these streets tore the form of Fleur. As she was approaching the headquarters of her family’s business, Pantshire Enterprises; she glanced up to see the falling form of a pale yellow earth pony. His two-toned light and dark brown mane wriggled violently as he tested the acceleration of gravity. “Hhheeeelllppp!!” was the cry born of primitive nerves. With reaction born of desperation, Fluer de Lis’s horn lit up in a rose pink aura as she willed her magic to grab that the body before it became big hit on Broadway. As she eased the green ball capped pony to the street, he looked over his body to be sure it was still in one piece. “Well, sha-oot!” She knew certain spells as all unicorn’s did. Fleur knew a few outside of those relating to her Special Talent. Teleportation was never her strong suit. It took her a lot of time to execute and given her radius was never very far anyway (usually the next room over), she often took it upon herself to simply walk. Telekinesis, she found, was much easier to the perform. See it. Touch it. Work with it. Simple enough really. Fleur found a front hoof being shaken violently as she looked to the earth pony. His front teeth protruded just past his nostrils. “Thank ya miss! If y’all hadn’t caught me...” “It’s no trouble, Mr...,” she left room for an introduction. Her voice carried the lyrical quality of an operatic Alto. “Hayseed! Hayseed Turnip Truck!” “Mr. Truck. A pleasure to meet you but I must get going..,” Fleur spoke with a smile as she resumed her trot towards the tall building where her brother was waiting. They didn’t see each other much and she didn’t want to lose a minute. She also wondered for a split second the amount of love Mr. and Mrs. Truck had for their progeny to give one of them the name of Hayseed Turnip, but it left her just as quickly. “Well, she seemed awfully nice,” the pale yellow remarked as he adjusted his ballcap. He grabbed a waiting rope and hauled himself back up the building. ~(0)~ “Ah, sister! So good to see you,” the monocled pony spoke with a slight accent. The cream colored fur provided a nice, stylish contrast to his black tuxedo coat, white dress shirt. and pale purple bowtie. His short, kept mustache was a light blue. His mane and tail sported the same color. “I trust your journey was...uneventful?” “Not quite, dear brother.’” She ended with a soft chuckle as she moved to embrace her older brother. Unlike her brother, she usually didn’t need clothes look fashionable. Her two-toned pink and ivory mane, cream colored body and violet eyes were striking enough on their own. Her figure was one born of a dancer, a gift of her mother’s genes. The dark wooden room had all the look of a classic business motif. Dark wooden paneling and decorative lighting gave it a formal atmosphere, as did the members of the Board that were present. Fleur didn’t really have a taste for them, but she couldn’t avoid this meeting either. Such were the games she had to play. Pantshire Enterprises was started generations ago by the head of the Pants family, Formal Pants. Unlike a lot of self-styled “Canterlot Elite”, he never aspired to live up to that title. More or less a venture capitalist firm, it lived with a simple, unspoken motto: Don’t Be Evil. Ultimately, the business succeeded by staying within the law and keeping it’s dealings honest. Contracts were contracts. It wasn’t unheard of, though, for those contracts to be renegotiated in certain circumstances. Acts of nature or a giant bear rampaging through a downtown district can’t really be taken into account when discussing interest rates on a loan. That honor the business exhibited always seemed to drive those prime opportunities to seek out Pantshire backing. A few ventures failed, but savvy in multiple areas made these the exception rather than the rule. The company thrived where others suffered ill repute or failed outright by exercising common sense and a eye for opportunity. Agriculture was one such concern. Unlike other countries, Equestria invested heavily in keeping the weather predictable and the seasons eternal. When the co-rulers of the land control the sun and the moon, it tends to have that effect. But whether it was farms or fashionable boutiques, it was always kept above board. As such, Pantshire kept itself honorable and a cut above others for those reasons. The current generation that ran the company, Fancy Pants and Fleur de Lis, were no exception. However, maintaining such a place in society required keeping a certain air and social station. The members of the Board were the usual ponies found in the upper class of Canterlot, commonly called the “Canterlot Elite.” Snobby and persistently gullible to the world outside the capital, social intrigue and station were all that really mattered to them. That said, their influence had paid dividends in multiple areas. The laws governing companies traded on the Dew Jones 5000 also required their presence. Such were the compromises that had to be made. One such member, Jet Set, was a living embodiment of all the wrongs such a station had. He kept his nose up so much that Fancy and Fleur wondered if he could actually see through his nostrils. The Co-C.E.O.s broke their embrace and moved towards the long meeting table. They wanted this done quickly. “Now, Mares and Gentlecolts,” Fancy led off the meeting. The agenda wouldn’t be overly tedious. A few contracts (include a collective bargaining agreement with the local Trotsters in Fillydelphia) needed to be ratified and various other minutiae had to be addressed. Fleur thought that term fitting. Most of these matters were trivial. While Fancy managed the house of cats that was the Board of Directors, Fleur found her mind elsewhere. While Fancy kept up the front enough, Fleur had little tongue for it. She glanced up at a painting of her parents that hung like a ghost over the boardroom. Since Pantshire when public so many years ago, it was a not-so-subtle reminder of WHO’S company it was. While the various stockholders may have their say, a majority of shares still belonged to the Pants family. As such, they were calling the shots. Board members came and went, but the House of Pants was eternal. The absurdity of the line wasn’t lost on Fleur, but it was the way her mother and father said it, so who was she to change it? She looked to the mother and marveled at how well the artist captured those eyes. Fleur, being on business end of many a stare from those orbs, understood them well. They could penetrate your soul with no effort. There was no sparkle in that painting, just as when she “borrowed” the Smarty Pants doll. She quietly sighed. Her train of thought was shattered by a nasally whine. “Why do we have to bargain with these brutes,” Jet Set spoke out of turn. Fleur pondered how the world looked through a nasal cavity as he continued, “It’s not like they add any value to...” Fancy gave Jet a glare that could freeze boiling water and his trademark monocle only added to the effect. “Because, Mr. Set, they asked for that representation. Would you deny them that right?” After Jet gave a nervous cough and resumed staring at his faux leather binder, Fancy continued on with the details of the hashed-out agreement. As the thought of throttling the arrogant sweatered colt gleefully and independently played itself out in each of the siblings minds, the Board gave approval of the bargaining agreement without a single dissent. The games of the Canterlot Elite happened even here. It felt like a combination of poker, chess, a Neighspeare play, and improv. Ponies constantly jockeyed for favor and status. Only thing was there was real consequences for failing to find favor with those ponies who frequented the courts and parties of the Royal Sisters. A consistent loss of status meant a lot, and ruin of all types wasn’t uncommon should a pony fail to play their hoof correctly. Fancy and Jet vied for dominance, but Fancy bested him more often than not. Fleur often thought Fancy enjoyed rubbing the would-be winner’s nose in it. As the meeting wrapped up, Fleur and Fancy discussed a few matters that didn’t require the attention of the Board. “Now sister, there’s the matter of the Equestria Agriculture Convention this winter.” “Mmm,” Fleur acknowledge while sipping some jasmine tea, “Where’s it being held this year?” Pantshire invested heavily in transportation and agriculture concerns, turning around or backing many a farm. Needless to say the Pants family were often participants at the convention. “Stalliongrad.” “Stalliongrad? An...interesting choice.” Fleur set the cup down and released her magical hold on it. “Quite,” Fancy paused while levitating his own cup to his lips, “Mmm... This is quite good, isn’t it?” “True enough,” Fleur attempted to get her brother back on track, “Shall you be participating this year?” Fancy thought it over as the steam collected in his monocle. “I don’t believe I can make it this year. There’s the matters in Manehattan, meetings with the Princesses, and...” Fleur cut off her brother with a chuckle and wave of her hoof. Fancy was often the face of the family, but Fleur often dealt with more the day-to-day matters. If Fancy was the prince on the throne, she was the Major Domo behind it. “Fair enough brother, I shall attend in your stead.” “Thank you, dear. Shall we do lunch?” ~(0)~ The pair took a stroll down one of Canterlot’s many streets. They hit up a small sidewalk cafe that was a favorite of Fleur’s. A salad and grilled portabella steak sandwich, a bottle of spring wine, and idle banter. Life’s little moments were all the pair could have, but it was worth it. Their banter usually became light and, away from the prying eyes of the Elite, they often acted in ways unbecoming of their status. They couldn’t help it though. Familial love often had that effect. Celestia forbid if other ponies saw their sense of humor. The wine loosened up matters a bit, but it wasn’t the sole reason. Often Fleur and Fancy acted outside their station when nopony was looking. Simply put, they were ones to keep a level head and an eye for opportunity. The demands of the business often kept the two traveling and far apart a lot of the time. Though they always stayed close at heart, there was never enough time to spend together. Fleur often admired her brother’s decorum, strong will, and good nature. He was ever a fulcrum in the constantly shifting panorama that was the games of the Canterlot Elite. Fleur gave a laugh as the walked after lunch, “Did you need to be so harsh with Jet Set?” “Honestly dear, yes. That stallion is about as worthless as nipples on a ...” The conversation came a crashing conclusion as Fancy collided with a marshmallow colored unicorn with three diamonds on her flank. The purple-maned mare was carrying an obscene number of bags with her magic and a small kennel strapped to her side. In the ensuing explosion of fabric and feathers, a bag landed on Fancy as Fleur looked on with a quiet, if shocked bemusement. Somewhere in the fracas, a white cat with a sour disposition popped out of the kennel. Fleur grabbed the bag and lifted it off her brother’s head. Never one to miss an opportunity, Fancy struck a slightly dramatic, sexy pose that showed off his un-monocled eye and put his mustache in the best light. Without missing a beat, Fleur took it upon herself to set off little sparkles around her brother with a bit of her own magic. The smaller unicorn gasped “Fancy...Pants...” She possessed a look like her walls were closing in. Fleur recognized it and it touched her. She glanced to her brother who was ever one to joke around when the situation warranted it. This was one of them. Fancy got to his hooves, “I say, that’s one way to make an introduction.” Fleur gave the mare a soft smile as she put a hoof onto her brother’s shoulder, trying to assure the mare there was no harm, so no foul. The purple-maned mare rapid fired an apology anyway. “Oh goodness! I’m am SO sorry. I..I didn’t see you there! I just got so many bags and I was just trying to get to my suite at the castle and...” “You’re...staying at the castle,” Fancy broke in as he levitated the fallen monocle back to his left eye. Something about this pony was familiar, like they should know her, if not of her. He shifted from full to half mirth. One shouldn’t sap all the enjoyment from a situation. “The princess invited me to stay in one of the suites,” the flustered marshmallow unicorn offhoofedly remarked. “You know...the princess?” Fancy searched his mind. Where did he know her from? He glanced to Fleur who was using her magic to assist the young mare with fallen bag. She levitated over to the now-recovered unicorn, who seized it with her own magic. “Hmm. A pony of expensive tastes I see,” Fleur struck something of a dancer’s pose. The situation was highly amusing to her. She glanced back to her brother and much passed between them. The inquisitive look and his words clued her into his line of thought, but she didn’t pay it much credence. The wine and humor of it meant she couldn’t take it seriously. Private time with her brother often did that. “Oh! It’s for an ensemble I’m making for a friend,” the mare gave a bit of sheepish look and glanced away as if searching for something, “Her birthday’s in a few days.” It became apparent there was still a layer of fluster the smaller unicorn was working through as she used her magic to deposit the cat head first into one of the bags. Having packed her purchases and feline companion, she trotted along, “Again, I’m really sorry for having bumped into you.” She gave a slight smile over her shoulder as she proceeded along. “I’m not,” Fancy broke in. Something about this mare... It was like an itch in the back of his mind that his memory couldn’t scratch. Was it something overheard at a party, or a meeting with Princess Celestia? Maybe a correspondence from Princess Luna? A news story? He was experienced enough to trust his instincts. Fleur let some of the mirth of the situation pass as she was along a similar train of thought now. Fancy spoke up, “Obviously, you are somepony worth bumping into.” Fleur crossed her front hooves over her brother’s back. She preferred to be casual in these situations. No reason to put on airs with somepony from out of town. She let her brother work his own magic while she looked up at one of the passing clouds, head comfortably resting in her hoofs. Her elbows moved the small of her brother’s back. He was always good in these situations and this was a routine they had down to an art. “Listen. I have a V.I.P. box reserved at the Wonderbolts Derby this afternoon,” Fancy was fishing, trying to keep her there for a moment. By the look she gave him, he hooked her. “Would you..would you be so kind as to join me and a few of my companions there, hmm? “Me?” “Of course, my dear!” Fleur glanced over to the young mare. Her face lit up like a filly over a cupcake. “He’s so good,” she thought. She knew how her brother operated and trusted him enough to let him operate unimpeded. There was no harm in inviting a stranger to the Derby, after all. The Royal Guards would be present. Besides, if her face spoke the truth, this vaguely familiar mare would have the time of her life. The marshmallow colored unicorn searched for her words, “Well...I...ah..sure.” Fleur couldn’t join them, but she was hamming it up her own way with slight pose and her eyes closed. She didn’t really consider these situations deceptive. All things being equal, she preferred casual situations to those like the upcoming Canterlot Garden Party. Fancy spoke up and played as he was ready to leave, “We’d love to see you there, uh...” he led the unicorn on. “Ah. Rarity,” she spoke with a pleasurable smile. Her horn and bags were encompassed with a light blue aura, the same color as her eyes. Somewhere from one of the bags, the cat worked itself up with its forepaws, giving a dazed, cross eyed look as it peaked out of the bag. “Rarity,” Fancy let the name roll off his tongue and went on his way, There was an almost content look on his face. Fleur was absent mindedly messing her mane. She heard her brother’s hooffalls and glanced over her shoulder. She turned back, gave a sheepish look and dashed to catch up to him. She caught to Fancy Pants a few seconds later, “Rarity. She’s the Element of.. “ she was searching her own catalogs of memories, though was sure of her guess. “Element of Generosity. Quite right, dear,” Fancy finished the sentence for her, “Definitely somepony worth running into.” Fleur thought of Jet Set at the moment and caught her brother’s meaning. She nuzzled him fondly as they went about their way. What Fleur inherited from their mother, Fancy inherited from their father. A master of social graces and cues, he often played the social game like Garry Cantsperov in a high school chess club. Fleur was well versed with the game and she played it well. But Fancy was a master. ~(0)~ Fleur wanted to be with her brother at the Derby, but Pantshire couldn't run itself after all. Ultimately, through a multitude of letters, contracts, proposals and the like, she went through it with her usual grace. She wasn’t jealous of her brother. After all, somepony had to be the spokespony for the business. The day-to-day trivialities were in her hooves. She had attended Canterlot University and graduated right before her parents passed on. It was hard work, but she made do while there. It didn’t keep her from her share of time spent in the Dean’s office for one reason or another. A feigned look a pain and a devastating smile often spared her from the worst consequences of the troubles she caused. Fleur often used her marish wiles more often than not when dealing with other ponies. She wasn’t a harlot. Goodness no, but she understood the how to play ponies better the most. With a glance and the bat of an eyelash, a subtle sweet smelling perfume and cheesy smile, she could accomplish a lot. That said, she preferred not to exercise such skills when possible. Sex always sold, but there was no reason to over saturate it. While her brother worked the board meetings, business lunches, gave interviews and did the presentations, she was the one making sure it ran smoothly. She trusted the ponies under her to do their jobs. She had to. Still though, the tediousness and frustrations could give anypony a migraine. “So, you see Miss di Lis, the proposal looks sound,” spoke one of the many “Vice Presidents" that answered to her. She shifted subtly in her chair, trying to look contemplative. She imagined how Celestia dealt with such drab meetings. Or her mother. The grey-colored pegasus stallion spoke, “I don’t see a problem here.” “Fair enough. What’s the projected target?” Often Pantshire kept an eye on the bottom line. “We’re anticipating 20% above the purchase. The price of the buyout seems reasonable versus the expected profits. There will be no issues.” Fleur nodded. It was exactly what she needed to hear. She’d been through this many times before with so many different companies in trouble. Buy out, fix it, and sell it again. The turnaround was an easy enough process, though the company had a few hard rules and guidelines. Is it honorable? Is it just? She simplified it down to a simple credo. She had to be able to sleep at night. Such was the legacy of her family. Pantshire had always held itself above others. It hired the best ponies for the job, made sure they understood those jobs, what they were supposed to do, and left them to it. There were a few incidents that violated those ethos, but the legacy, the tradition was to make it right in the end. Her parents had fought to keep it that way and both she and her brother worked to do the same. Another portrait of her parents hung on the wall opposite her desk. This one wasn’t intimidating like the one in the boardroom. It was gentler, a little more pure if such a thing were possible. This one was painted in lighter colors. It was joyful and more honest to the memories of them. She missed them terribly. “Go ahead then,” she had already decided to go through with it but she needed to look the part. The executive pegasus gave an acknowledging nod and left. He was good as his job and his family was taken care of. Pantshire always wanted honest ponies, but a fair wage helped ensure they stayed that way. Fleur returned her gaze to that portrait. Backed by sunset reflecting off the waters of Princess Falls, the image was stunning to look at. She and her brother weren’t in the painting, but they didn’t need to be. Her parents were always a bastion against the world they knew. Such was the way of things. She pondered that if she ever had a foal of her own, would she be able to the same? She sighed a little thinking of her mom and how much like her she became. She loved them both as much as her brother, but that time was cut short. Eventually, she moved from behind the desk as she adjusted her mane. She glanced to portrait, staring at the pigmented picture of her mom. She was ever a kind hearted pony. While her father held Fancy’s role previously, she inherited her mothers. She was harsh when need be and unafraid to step on a few hoofs to get what she wanted, but she always did what she believed was right. A straight through business pony to the end. Most of all though, her mom never forgot why they did what they did and how they did it. The fact there was financial benefit was nothing to be ashamed of. Perhaps there could be more if they bent the rules, perhaps stepped on a few unnamed ponies. But what price did you put on dignity and a good night’s sleep? The life they lived required them to be, to a degree, something they really weren’t. But there was a benefit to it. For them and for others. Fleur inherited a lot of those traits and found a few of her own. In the end though, it was big horseshoes to fill. “We don’t take what isn’t ours. You can hurt another pony’s feelings that way,” Those words ever echoed in the back of her mind, “Now why don’t we take what doesn’t belong to us?” “Because you want me to become a pony of worth.” “I miss you, mom.” ~(0)~ Fleur caught up with her brother again a few days later at the Canterlot Garden Party. It gave the siblings a chance to speak before the festivities began in earnest. Fleur glance to her brother, half amused and wholly indulged, “She said what?” “She said that the Element of Loyalty was the personal trainer to the Wonderbolts,” Fancy gave a bemused smile, “Can you believe it?” Fleur instantly could believe it. From what she learned, the fashionista aspired to the echelon that was the world of Fancy and Fleur. As such, she was working hard to impress Fancy. But she was going about it the wrong way. Fleur spoke in turn after a slight sigh, “How very...interesting. Tell me, do you plan on clarifying the situation to her?” Fancy smirked at his sister with a slight sparkle in his eye, “Only as much as necessary, dear.” Fleur smiled fondly to her brother. His heart was ever in the right place. In truth, she found herself liking the young mare the more she heard about her. Fancy went on about how she spoke out of turn at an art exhibition and how she bid on a worthless bauble at a charity auction for simply the reason of doing it. There was a innocent charm about the Element of Generosity. The siblings intended to keep it that way. Fleur was surprised that Fancy had spent so much time with Rarity. She understood though. As an Element of Harmony, she would spend a lot of time in the confines of the court whether she knew it or not. Being a fashionista with a title and duty, she would spend of lot of time in the courts of the Royal Sisters and the Canterlot Elite. Fancy, it seemed, wanted to show the young mare how the world was while reminding her of how it really was. Like so many of the Elite, that genuine nature could be spoiled within a few rounds of the game. It took a strong heart to keep from losing one’s self in it. Fancy and Fleur learned that early on. He intended to make sure she got that same lesson if it could be helped. The Canterlot Garden Party was another affair where she admired her brother’s social graces. The music from the Grand Galloping Quartet were the usual classical selections of Beethooven and Foalzart. Luna’s moon shined above in the untouchable reaches of space. Fancy Pants did his usual charm routine; a pure master at work. Fleur engaged in polite chit-chat off in the corner while levitating some punch and sipping once in a while. Alcoholic delights weren’t much of craving for her, but it did help loosen her up a touch. She played the occasional wingpony to him in these situations, sometimes breaking off a pony or two from a group to allow her brother to do his magic. This was how tips on opportunities and contracts were made. A polite suggestion and a casual discourse often led to information afforded few others. That flow of information was often priceless. Fleur wondered more than once if the crowns of her brother’s Cutie Mark were representative of how much of a king he was among petty would-be nobles. The party was a Canterlot tradition and was held every year outside the Royal Ballroom. The usual flow of events was dining, chit chat, music and the occasional drunken regret. All in all, the repetition bred boredom, but there was little either Fleur or her brother could do about it. The game was eternal as was the Canterlot Garden Party, and duties couldn’t be ignored. That would be speaking too soon. What she couldn’t do about, another pony could. Fleur was discussing something unimportant with Jet Set’s wife, Upper Crust. The snobbish mare wore a string of pink pearls and a sweater any lonely secretary wouldn’t be caught dead in while indulging a sordid romance novel on a Friday night. She was every bit the arrogant plothole her husband was, but such were the way of ponies. While silently contemplating if a 1000 years of lunar isolation would be worth getting out of the conversation, the unmistakable sound of Rockafilly music unabashedly barged its way out of the ballroom. That turned a few heads, including Fleur’s. She whispered “thank you” to whomever was audacious enough to interrupt the drool inducing pace of affairs. It was out of the corner of her purple eye that she spotted the Element of Generosity make her way to her brother’s side. She politely excused herself from Upper Crust’s presence and casually made her to within earshot of her brother. She spied the marshmallow colored unicorn confidently stride up the garden walk. Fleur admitted to herself that Rarity cut a striking figure in her mostly yellow ensemble. Large flowers of various pink hues lined her hat and little flowers decorated her purple tail and mane. She announced, almost singing, “I’m here!” Upper Crust was first to greet the newly popular unicorn, “Darling! I’m so glad you made it...” Fancy was having none of it and intercepted the two. Rarity gave him a thankful look. “Rarity, so happy to see you here!” He made it a point, politely of course, to keep Upper Crust out of the conversation. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” she replied back, using some mannerisms befitting of the Canterlot Elite. She was an amatuer, Fleur thought, but she held promise. The slender unicorn spotted Upper Crust trying to maneuver her way back into the conversation. Fancy Pants glared daggers at her, as if, politely, telling her butt out. Fancy caught an unmistakable scent on the wind and took in a nose full. “I say, what is that scent you’re wearing,” he asked. Inhaling again close to the living embodiment of Generosity, he remarked, “It smells like..is that..cake frosting?” Rarity’s pupils shrank as she deadpanned, “Yes...I always dab a little frosting behind my ears before I go out.” After a quick, forced chuckle, she continued, “After all, who doesn’t like the smell of cake frosting!” Upper was about to remark before Fancy cut her off again, “I know I do!” Not wanting to appear out of sorts, Upper Crust closed her eyes and nodded, “Mmm hmm.” Fleur watched the entire exchange. In less than 10 seconds, Fancy asserted his social dominance and saved a pony he respected from social damnation. Fleur hardly needed reminders of how good her brother was, but she admitted to herself. She was impressed. Rarity closed her eyes as if thanking Luna, before opening them up again, “Well. All this talk about cake has made me hungry,” Rarity was giving herself an out, “I think I’ll go and see what’s on the hors d'oeuvre table. If you’ll excuse me.” With that, she was gone. Fleur cantered over to her brother and Upper Crust, who were engaged in idle banter. Fleur peeled off Upper Crust to allow her brother to continue about his evening. Ultimately, the intrigues of the upper sets of Equestria were a difficult game to play and could destroy a pony as easy as a vengeful Griffon. Rariy’s little grand entrance nearly ended in disaster. Fancy guided her on the path though. That said, Fleur respected the attempt and promised to watch for her in the future. The physical side of things wouldn’t be an issue for the young mare. She was beautiful to look at and cut a striking figure. She also possessed an innate sense of fashion and had her marish wiles down to an art. But she suspected her brother had taken a liking to the young Element of Generosity, and she would do her part. Ultimately, her brother’s happiness meant a great deal to her and if there were more than idle curiosity there... Throughout the evening, Fleur made it a point to watch Element of Generosity apparently work herself into a frenzy. The purple-maned mare was back and forth all night between the Garden Party and the apparently Tartarus-inspired affair happening in the ballroom. A few inquiries were made as to “that racket” coming from next door. However, the guards were curt about it, stating it was a Royal Affair and would not be interrupted. Fleur suspected an innate apathy to the needs of pampered ponies went a long way to a successful career when guarding the castle. Rarity continued the back and forth all night, even managing to steal a croquet mallet on one jaunt back to the ballroom. After with a while of this, Rarity was obviously wearing herself thin, but Fleur decided to leave her be. Whatever was going on, she was bringing a fair amount of entertainment to an otherwise dull affair. Fleur and Fancy traded off on Upper Crust all night. Jet Set wasn’t much of an issue, being tied up with some stallions from the Canterlot Country Club. Upper Crust made it a point to keep up on Rarity’s activities over the past few days. Whatever she was thinking, it wouldn’t be good. The unspoken communication between the siblings kept the unmerciful mule of a mare in check throughout the evening. Just as things were looking to wind down, the party came to a crashing end. While she was on duty with Upper, she spotted a rather odd site. A conga line of ponies, lead by a cannon firing streamers and making honking noises, meandered its way through the Garden Party. The general look was one of stun, but Fleur simply reveled in it. Rarity happened back outside, mouthing “Oh no...” as these Party Ponies (there was no other way to describe it) proceeded to make evening go from dull to memorable. The orange earth pony, who was wearing a Stetson hat and had a trio of apples as a Cutie Mark, was digging at the weeds, chiding everypony present “How come y’all ain’t gardening. This is a garden party, isn’t it?” The pink pony, who seemed the living embodiment of the Rockafilly music that was blaring outside now, seemed to enjoying her party cannon to no end. Fleur wondered as the pink earth pony’s sugar levels, seeing as she literally ate a cake off the table. Fleur even swore at one point the chaotic pink pony called the cannon “Vera.” A rainbow-maned pegasus was trying her hoof at croquet and failing rather miserably. At one point, the mallet went flying from her mouth and took the wig off some random pony during its flight.. A butter colored pegasus was making friends with the birds in one tree, who in turn displayed their unending excitement as a scared puppy does, much to the chagrin of the other ponies beneath the tree. The purple unicorn in a simple yellow dress looked like she was having a seizure to that wonderfully chaotic music, doing her best to dance in rhythm. Fleur knew this pony. She was the Princess Celestia’s personal student and the Element of Magic. It made some sense now (if the whole situation could make any). Fleur suspected that being personal friends with the Princess and an Element of Harmony afforded a lot of leeway, and as such, the guards would do nothing to interfere. More than a few guards actually wore goofy grins though, as if expecting this whole thing. Fleur spotted Upper Crust and Jet Set moving to socially shame the pony convulsing to the music. Apparently, they knew of her to and sought to make her future in Canterlot a little more uncomfortable. Fancy was quicker though. Fleur, for her part, moved to intercept the dastardly duo. “Can you see what that pony is wearing,” remarked Jet Set to a heavily drinking Rarity. Fleur heard it and glanced to her brother, He nodded ever so slightly, apparently hearing it as well. “Excuse me,” Fancy feigned some ignorance as Twilight paused mid-groove. At that point, the student of Celestia caught her tongue outside the safe confines of her mouth. Fleur thought it rather adorable. Fancy continued as he studied the Element of Magic, “might I ask where you got your ensemble?” Twilight perked up, “Why yes! Yes, you may! A very, very close friend of mine from Ponyville made it for me.” Rarity somehow blanched enough to make her fur even whiter. She spat her drink out, dousing Jet and Upper in the process. Fleur positioned herself in front of them while giggling. Some things were just too good. Jet looked as if the punch stung his eyes a bit. Having a fair idea what was in that drink, she thought, “Serves you right, you son of a motherless goat.” “Ponyville? You don’t say,” Fancy remarked, allowing the young magically inclined mare some pride points. She unknowingly took the offer, “I do say! Her name is” “Fancy Pants!” It was the marshmallow unicorn, Rarity, “Why don’t you come with me? I want to show you the..thing..over there, on the other side of the room.” Her eyes were pleading while motioning towards the ballroom. Fancy shut her down. There was a lesson here and he wanted her to learn it, “In a moment, my dear. This lovely young filly from Ponyville,” he spoke with a wink to Twilight, “was just about about to tell me who made her charming dress.” Rarity continued to fight, “That dress? Oh come now, who cares? It’s a plain old...” “Oh don’t be so modest,” Twilight naively interrupted, “this dress you made is beautiful!” The gathering gave an audible gasp. The dress was a simple two-tone yellow affair with a pink scarf. Most of the high society types wouldn’t be caught dead in it. Fleur, who had lost Upper and Jet in the drama, understood their pretentious gasp, but she also understood a gift given from the heart. The Party Ponies gathered around Twilight. The pink one still blithely wearing the dripping remains of the cake on her face as they all closed ranks with the Element of Magic. “We all think so,” Twilight spoke in a subtle, but shrinking pride. Fancy silently thanked Twilight for giving him a path to his final destination. He turned to Rarity with a bit of dramatic acting, “You know this pony?” Rarity, being in such an exposed position, understood she needed to make stand. Her friends had a collective sense of growing embarrassment. She gathered her confidence spoke to the gathered Elite ponies, “Yes. Yes I do know them. They may not be as sophisticated as some of you Canterlot ponies. But they are my best friends and are, without a doubt, the most important ponies I know.” “Good show, darling” Fancy Pants mentally congratulated Rarity for her bravado. His smile was subtle. Jet Set wouldn’t miss his chance though, “Important ponies? These ruffians?” Upper Crust put in, “Don’t make me laugh!” Both gave a dark, forced chuckle as if they had the last laugh. Fleur immediately wanted to sterilize the duo, but Fancy took it upon himself to neuter them for the rest of the evening, “I, for one, find them charmingly rustic.” The tone carried hints of finality. The duo stopped as if they got hit with a cold fish. Fleur recognized the social execution for what it was. Fancy used his domination throughout the evening to his advantage and played his Ace. The gamble paid off. “That dress you made for your friend is lovely,” he spoke with confidence, “I dare say that every mare in Canterlot will be wanting one!” Upper and Jet, being the social sycophants they were, began to hound Rarity for orders of the dress. Rarity left them abruptly as they tried to crowd her. The two managed to conk their heads together as if the vacant space vacuumed the pair together. Fleur just shook her head and watched her brother. “Mmm, yes...” he spoke as the Upper and Jet had their meeting of the minds, “Now, how about you introduce me to your friends.” “With pleasure,” Rarity practically chirped. ~(0)~ The party wrapped up quietly. The Elements of Harmony enjoyed their evening and the Grand Galloping Quartet differed their performance to the Rockafilly beats. As the party dispersed, Rarity spoke with Fancy while Fleur pleasantly engaged the remaining Elements with some dance moves and honest laughter. “Fancy Pants, thank so much for the delightful time!” Rarity worked some charms on Fleur’s older brother. Fancy was probably aware of it, but he let her play. No harm in a little practice. “No trouble, my dear,” his smile was genuinely given. A bit of the remaining punch dripped off his stylish moustache, but Rarity didn’t point it out. “Do you plan on remaining in Canterlot for a while?” "Would that I could, but I must to return to Ponyville. A boutique won’t run itself,” she quipped with a bat of her eyelash. “She’s good,” Fleur thought to herself. Rarity broke social protocol and grabbed the stylish stallion in a big hug. “Thank you for everything, Fancy. It’s been a grand time!” She looked into his face with a subtle smile and a hesitating blink, as if inviting him into the sea of her eyes. “Think nothing of if, my dear! Should you find yourself in Canterlot, do look us up!” The two groups departed while the moon was making its way west. Fleur and Fancy exited the castle proper into the streets of the quiet capital city. Both were silently lost in thoughts of the evening before Fleur spoke up, “You know she was flirting with you, right?” Fancy glanced to his sister, his face a mocking look of shock, “You don’t say.” Fleur laughed, her alto voice full of pleasant feelings, “I do say, brother! Why,” she paused for effect, “I would go so far as to say she was playing you.” Fancy paused for a moment and shrugged as if it hardly mattered. His eyes, though, were ones of happy bemusement. Something about the way they caught the moon spoke of it. Fleur thought about her mother for a moment. Always so expressive were her eyes. Fancy inherited it as well. Fleur’s heart ached at the memory, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. She glanced to the moon again. In the pale moonlight, nopony could hide from the truth of things. Not after that night. "A pony of worth?” Fancy pondered it for a moment, “Quite.” Fleur smiled at the thought. The marshmallow colored Element of Generosity had piqued her brother’s curiosity in multiple ways. Fleur craned her neck to her brother and held it next to his face. Fancy leaned in and closed his eyes. After a moment of holding the pose, they continued on their way. Passing a few vacant sidewalk cafes and boisterous nightclubs, Fleur thought to her mother and father again. Random memories ever played a symphony of images and emotions. Such were the burdens of legacy. “I do believe we made some friends tonight,” Fancy spoke up after a while “One can hope. I rather do rather like them,” she forced herself to reply Fancy paused for a bit while glancing to his sister, “Reminds me of mother in lot of ways.” Fleur arched an eyebrow, “Which one and how so?” “You, my dear.” That rocked Fleur to her rear hoofs. She regained her composure for the most part, “How so?” “She was always tried to be there. She was beautiful and kind. She always supported any of us...you, me, father. She was slow to judge another pony and was always honest with herself. Most of all,” Fancy paused here to let the point sink home, “she was a pony that stood by the family. She was a pony of worth, my dear. As are you.” Fleur couldn’t hold it. She wrapped a hoof around her brother’s neck and let the tears come. She closed her eyes and just let the moonlight expose her. If Luna’s would judge her, the damn it, she would be judged for what she was. Fancy Pants returned the hoof around his sister’s neck. Bonds of blood were nothing compared to the bonds of the heart. After a few minutes, they broke the embrace as Fleur regained her senses. Her brother was a remarkable pony in a lot of ways. To hear such words from a pony she dearly admired and loved were all that mattered. ~(0)~ Fleur glanced over the sheer scale of Stalliongrad. The sun was setting while she relaxed in her room on the 12th floor. Her room suite was a bit more grandiose than anypony really required. A large tub with jets in it was off in the corner. Track lighting bathed the room in a pleasant glow. The bed was a long, lavish model that looked too comfortable for it’s own good. She admired the scenery of the city, so different yet like Canterlot. She often thought of a lot of things when alone, but something kept dragging her to the series of events while in Stalliongrad. She thought back to that night and how far that group had come. The Elements of Harmony were becoming influential in their own way. Being heroes had that effect, she surmised. They had done battle with three separate entities that could rightfully be called deities, and persevered. The last battle against the being named Chrysalis and her minions really brought the group a measure of respect they truly deserved. Taking place during the the wedding of the season between Princess Mi Amore Cadenza and Shining Armor, Captain of Canterlot Castle’s Royal Guard forced that respect upon Elite. They didn’t do it because of any measurable gain. The feats they accomplished and the things they did were simply for the betterment of the whole. Fleur de Lis understood those ideals and respected group for it. Her brother started seeing Rarity more as of late. Whenever Fleur pressed her brother for information, he would always brush her off with his usual manner, citing the social maxim “A true gentlecolt never tells.” She figured her brother had grown quite fond of the Element of Generosity, but she kept those suspicions to herself. She knew her brother would tell her when he felt it was the right time. Fleur glanced back towards the sprawling city. She was familiar with the city proper, having been there many times. That said, something about this trip felt different, something intangible she couldn’t place her hoof on. She shrugged it off as the air grew too cold to tolerate without a coat. The din of the crowds below, the organized confusion as the ponies went about their lives. Even for a pony like her, born amidst the pomp of Canterlot, there was something to be had here. If the tales she heard were true, a pony could find the measure of themselves here. What was that measure? No pony had a clear answer. As she drew the windows closed, she thought she heard a distinctive “eeyup” above the commotion of the streets below. She shrugged it off. The city didn’t answer her back, did it? She let it go before she locked the windows and drew closed the blinds.