Stalliongrad Nights

by TCSNxs

5. A Charming Prince

Fleur had woken up early. She was expecting to meet with Chaircolt Delight and be on with her day. She had plans to keep, including meeting with a gorgeous hunk of red stallion later on. She shook her head, as much to get her mane to spread as to get the thought out of her head. Fleur was a little surprised she was moving quickly. Between the slight hangover, lack of coffee, and late night, she normally would have required the better part of 30 minutes before moving in any sort of pace.

Her magical grasp was working a brush through her mane and applying just a touch of blush. She didn’t usually need makeup to set off her natural features, but she decided on just a touch today. A knock on the door stole her attention and almost caused her to smear blush up to her ear. She set down her beauty tools, wiped away the colorful faux pas and grasped the door with her auric grasp. Coffee and crêpes were awaiting her.

After a brief exchange of bits for goods and setting up her coffee just so, she thought back to the previous night. Fleur was a little surprised at the honest nature of the large red earth pony. The well toned flank and large yoke certainly gave the stallion a pleasant, almost Roaman Gladiator like image. Fleur could easily let her mind fantasize about a piece of that Apple.

The coffee helped to sort her thoughts. Mac had risked himself on her behalf though they'd never met, and he was honest and an intelligent sort. Fleur thought he may be a touch shy, but that didn't bother her. In fact, it was cute in a way. Most of all, those green eyes expressed an unassuming nature and a confidence that most mares would find instantly appealing.

It struck Fleur was a little odd she was spending so much time thinking about him. She sighed, playing through the routine of glancing to the clock, deciding she was late, and hurrying out the door with her coat in tow.

“Mr. Delight, a pleasure,” Mac extended his large hoof. His normally free flowing short mane was slicked back and held in place by a cart's worth of manespray. His smile was a little forced and slightly goofy. His trademark yoke was left sitting by the wall in his room, “Ah see a lovely gal...pardon, mare with ya. Ya never mentioned you had a sister!”

The mirror reflected his goofy grin and nearly manic eyes. Mac held the pose for a moment before closing his eyes and shaking his head. He took a quick drink of his coffee, the taste of the black liquid as bitter as his performance. “Ah ain’t gonna get this right,” He mumbled while parking himself on the edge of the bed

Applejack and he spoke at length about this. He needed to look as professional as possible for the panel and for the Chaircolt of the Equestria Agriculture Council. A proper performance would mean big things for Sweet Apple Acres and the family as a whole. The only thing is Mac wasn’t sure what was considered "proper".

He usually let other ponies lead the conversation, offering a polite nod or small “Eeyup” or “Nope". The only time he spoke at length was if he felt it were appropriate or asked a question directly. Admittedly, he was slightly awkward when first meeting ponies in social situations. His hoofs were rubbing his temples, trying to cure his hangover. The books and other reference guides weren't of much help. Sometimes guides didn't have all the answers.

He looked to his bowl once full of oats and hay then to his yoke. He noticed then how utterly naked he felt without it, but it couldn’t be helped. He needed to be business like as possible and the yoke wouldn’t have a place in that image. He nearly cursed his awkwardness, but it was what it was.

"Relax Mac, it won' be all that bad," he said more then once that morning. If so though, why was he fretting so much. He wondered if that mare from last night had cursed him in someway. Mac shook that thought away as quickly as it came. The cream colored unicorn was nothing but a delight.

Her beauty was simply natural, inside and out. Fleur's sharp features, amethyst eyes, and tall lithe build could easily occupy his waking and dreaming thoughts. Her mannerisms definitely put him a little out of his comfort zone, but it wasn't unpleasant. Actually, she had tacitly encouraged his normally reserved pride. That was important to him, though Mac wasn't entirely sure why.

Mac snapped himself from his stupor and looked to the clock. It was time to face the music or the firing squad. Mac moved for the door without his yoke and the butterflies in his stomach just beginning to flutter.

“Wait!” Fleur was nearly galloping when the elevator door was closing. The doors had nearly shut before they burst open. She was inside in a second later. “Thank you so much,” the cream unicorn commented with a slight, formal smile.

“Eeyup.”

Fleur’s head turned quickly, “Mac! I didn’t recognize you without your yoke.” Mac gave a nervous chuckle as the elevator doors closed before beginning its descent. “This is not the pony I met yesterday.” “What happened? Did it break?”

“Nope,” Mac was searching for an excuse, but he decided on the truth, “Ah got to meet with the Chaircolt of the Equestria Agriculture Council this morning, Ah figured the old thing weren’t proper.” Mac's hair was slicked back and his eyes lacked that luster from last night. His nervousness was nearly tangible.

Alarms were going on off in Fleur’s mind. She went about analyzing the situation. The large red stallion was without the security of his most important possession and his look was all wrong. Most of all, there was no confidence. This pony was already trying too hard to impress ponies for the wrong reasons. This was something she had experience in. For what this prince-as-a-pauper pony did for her last night, she would not let that slide.

The doors popped open and Mac gave a polite nod before stepping out. He felt a yank on his tale that surprised him, but not as much as when “Nope.” didn’t come from his lips. Mac turned a suspicious look to the cream unicorn, who in turn gave him a serious expression built of supreme confidence, “This won’t work dear. You will fall before you even walk.”

“Whatcha mean?” Mac gave a curious tone to his voice as the elevator doors closed.

Fleur telekineticly pushed the button for the 12th floor. Mac was very curious now as the unicorn shifted to a sympathetic expression, “Mac, you said yesterday that the yoke has been in your family for a long time now, right?”

“For generations,” Mac gave the direct quote.

“Everypony needs something of a personal trademark about them. Whether you call it ‘flair’ or a ‘momento’ is simply semantics. But you need it as much as your Cutie Mark. That yoke is your ‘flair’, dear.”

Mac was processing the words as the elevator door opened. Fleur motioned him down the hall as she stepped out, “I also assume you normally don’t wear your mane like that?”

“Nope.”

“Then why are you now?”

Mac kept opening his mouth to speak but then kept shutting it. Whether it was confusion or logic traps, he found himself silent. Mac wasn't used to being psychoanalyzed. "Somethin' new every day." his mind quipped.

“Exactly,” Fleur read his expression as they approached the door to his room, “Dear, the number one rule of impressions and advertising is that, along with cute fluffy animals and foals, sex sells the most. Do you know what’s sexy?”

Mac was working the door's key while his mind was racing against the lurid images coming from every corner of his brain.

“Confidence.”

“But Ah’m not selling myself,” Mac spoke, catching the double entendre too late as he opened the door . In truth, he was taking in everything while moving into his room. He knew the unicorn was speaking the truth. Mac was a master in dealing with ledgers and organization, but he found himself lost in those meetings where he had no leverage.

“Aren’t you? Dear, you want to make a good impression I assume. You are going to be proffering yourself and the image you are hoping to imprint upon them. In a sense, selling yourself is exactly what you are doing. Now,” Fleur pointed to the bathroom with her horn, “get in the shower and do be quick.”

Mac wasn’t up to debating the point as he moved towards the bathroom. The hot water was helping him relax and gave him space to think. He understood exactly what she was saying, and found himself agreeing with it to a large extent. What he was doing didn't feel right.

Fleur was waiting on the edge of the bed when the large red stallion exited the bathroom, steam following in his wake. His mane was weighed down due to dampness, “Now what?”

Fleur rose and pulled the chair in front of the desk out. Mac parked his haunch as commanded while Fleur fumbled in her purse for a comb and compact mirror. Finding both, she took to the damp mass of hair on both ends, “Mac, you must be yourself. Trying to be somepony else is a waste of the pony you are.”

Mac closed his eyes and nodded slightly.

“Do be still for a moment dear. Now I beg your pardon in advance, but you are first and foremost a farmer, correct?”

“Eeyup.”

“That should be the image you wish to project. A flowing mane and tale, your rather...impressive size, and that yoke compliment that image so well. Most of all, this is an agricultural convention, not the Grand Galloping Gala. There is no reason to put on airs like you were. These ponies respect the worker, not the pretender.”

“But...”

“Mac, the pony I met yesterday had confidence befitting any noble pony. What you were, my large friend, was not that pony. This is,” she floated the mirror in front of him.

Mac smiled. His mane was styled a touch, which was to say straight but still loose. He glanced to his tale and it was much the same. The farm pony's eyes sparkled as he got re-acquainted with himself. Fleur used her telekinetic grasp to bring Mac’s harness over. Mac took it in his hoofs and slipped it on like it were a crown.

“Mmm,” Fleur looked him over, “Much better. Now, shall we go?”

The convention floor spread out in all directions. A number of ponies were setting up their booths and displays. Mac caught more than a few things he’d like to buy for Sweet Apple Acres. Newly designed plows, seed distributors, and various other implements competed with areas for classes, informational booths and even some financial institutions promising “instant relief from any monetary drought.” All of it for the eyes of the trafficking ponies that would be attending.

Mac even watched as a central stage was getting some finishing touches. While entirely unusual, it struck him as important. His nervousness had settled before seeing it, but his stomach exploded with butterflies again upon seeing the construction.

The duo were hoofing to a side door. Upon arrival, they were greeted by a large earth pony nearly the size of Mac. Orange fur lined his coat underneath the golden armor he wore. Mac had seen the design enough around Ponyville to knew it was a Royal Guard. Upon spying their name tags, he motioned his head towards the door. Mac’s intestinal butterflies were starting to riot.

Fleur leaned into Mac and whispered, “Follow my lead.” Mac wasn’t about to argue the point as he walked into a large office. A large white unicorn with a compass rose Cutie Mark and perfectly coiffed blonde mane was speaking with a slightly smaller brown earth pony, sporting black mane and a quill crossing a plowshare as a Cutie Mark.

Mac knew of the white unicorn from his sister and wanted to have a rather terse dissertation about “carnival fare” food, but he wisely held his tongue. A pegasus and two other earth ponies were in attendance though Mac didn’t give them much notice.

The brown earth pony coughed before speaking, “Ahh, so good of you to make it.” His voice surprised Mac as being a bit on the high pitched side. The brown earth pony turned to the white unicorn, “Prince Blueblood, may I present Miss Fleur de Lis, of Pantshire Enterprises, and Mr. Macintosh Apple, of Sweet Apple Acres.”

“Your Highness,” Fleur dropped her head in a bow. Mac followed suit, “A pleasure as always, though I am happier it is under less trying circumstances then the Gala.” Fleur smiled a little on the inside while referring to one of Blueblood’s more spectacular failures. Sometimes, a pony needed to be blunt, even in the games of the Canterlot Elite.

“Indeed. A pleasure as always,” Blueblood spoke in a rehearsed tone. Despite herself, Fleur shot him a quaint smile as the Prince turned to red earth pony, “Mr. Apple, you are the brother of the famous Applejack, the Element of Honesty, are you not?”

Mac nodded in his own way and chose his words deliberately, “Yes, Your Highness. Ah’m awfully proud of her.” He got the sense that unicorn was trying to put him on the defensive.

Blueblood, for all his practice, couldn’t hide his smirk, “I can well imagine. You know, I had the pleasure to sample some of her cuisine at the Gala last year. There were delightful!”

Mac could feel his cheeks flush at the prodding. Fleur interrupted him, “Truly! Tell me, what were they like? Macintosh will not elaborate on his family’s home cooking no matter how much I coax him.” Fleur gave a slight flutter of her eyelashes.

“Ahh, yes! Well they were, ah, quite delicious! Yes...Appletastic,” the Prince groused. The other ponies in attendance were taking note of the exchange.

"Truly, they are that good?" the brown earth pony spoke in an honest curiosity, "Mr. Apple, your sister must be quite the cook then."

“If y’all come down to the farm, Ah’m sure I could talk my sis into cooking you up something delightful,” Mac was wanting to glare daggers at the Prince, but he kept his trademark blank look directly into Blueblood’s eyes.

Fleur was counting on that, “Indeed? I, for one, would be honored at such an invitation,” Fleur slightly pouted as she put a hoof to Mac's shoulder.

“Ahh, yes! I shall take you up on that later then, Mr. Apple," the Chaircolt gave a soft smile.

Mac looked to Chaircolt and returned the smile. It was a what he set out to do. The giant farm pony gave a quick glance to Fleur, who just smiled in her usual way.

The rest of the meeting went off without much bravado. The Chaircolt covered what content was expected and various other minutiae. Mac found himself thinking back to the exchange between the two Canterlot unicorns. At first, he was a bit disappointed that Fleur seemingly lied on his behalf. But the longer he let his mind replay the scene, he began to understand the subtle currents of the exchange. Somewhere towards the end of the meeting, Mac’s smile switched from forced to genuine.

“Mares and Gentlecolts,” Blueblood spoke from a podium setup on the stage, his voice carrying the amplification of magic, “On behalf of the Princesses Celestia and Luna, and the Equestria Agriculture Council, I welcome you to the 140th Annual Equestria Agriculture Convention!”

The mass of ponykind in attendance stomped their approval while Mac and Fleur were in the back of the crowd. The Prince of Unicorns, for all his pretense, was a gifted speaker when it suited him. "Or when Celestia threatens him with something monetary," Mac's mind was guessing. The speech ran the gamut of how the farms of Equestria were its most sacred asset and how much relied on the food they had grown. Little inflections and direct eye contact made nearly every pony in attendance feel honored to hear it. In truth though, Mac and Fleur didn't pay it much credence for different reasons.

As the Royal pony finished up and the gathering broke, Mac and Fleur found themselves walking along a length of merchant booths. Ponies looked over the wares that were present. Mac promised himself to do a little shopping. It just occurred to him though he wasn't really paying much attention to various farm tools and flyers.

“Ah’m not sure why, but thanks just the same,” Mac was speaking in his usual bass voice as he just finished looking over a few tools.

“My dear Mac, think nothing of it. Blueblood is such an insufferable arse anyway, and to be honest, I was not expecting his presence in the meeting.”

“So Ah guessed,” Mac chuckled, “It seemed like ya knew him.”

Fleur smirked slightly as she addressed her companion, “Not on a friendly basis, no. In truth, he pursued me for a while. I had to...politely decline the offer,” Fleur minced her words as a silver plow caught her eye.

Mac didn’t, “Didn’t leave him with his stallionhood?” Knowing how she worked, he could well guess how the exchanges went.

“My dear, that would be being polite about it. I could not suffer a disingenuous pony as a partner," Fleur huffed slightly, "He isn't a pony of worth."

"Pardon?"

"Sorry dear, just something I say once in a while."

"Ah see," Mac let the matter drop. The red stallion then looked towards the exit, “You hungry? Mah treat.”

Fleur turned to Mac again, “A bit now that you say it, yes.”

Mac’s green eyes sparkled again, “Ah think Ah know just the place.”

Trottin’ through this world all alone,
Luna takes your soul, you're on your own.
The crow flies straight, a perfect line,
On Discord’s back until you die.

The lyrics were blaring as the band kept up their tune. It wasn’t even close to happy hour, but the ponies in attendance didn’t care. The Roadhouse was mentioned in a few guides, particularly noting the Garlic Soy Burgers were delicious. The atmosphere was jovial, with a surprising number of ponies wearing faux leather vests and sporting a surprising amount of muzzle hair.

This life is short, filly that’s a fact.
Better live it right, you ain’t coming back.
Gotta raise some hay before they take you down.
Gotta live this life.

Mac was nursing his cider while Fleur looked as if she were analyzing it. It was sweet, with a bit of age. Though not having nearly the tartness of her usual Spring Wine, it was more than passable. The music only added to the taste as Fleur glanced over her food. It really was a charming place.

“Now where did you hear of this place, Mac?”

“Ah’ve heard it mentioned in passing,” Mac spoke while murdering his burger.

“I see,” the cream unicorn was working the burger with her magic. While it wasn't sophisticated, the garlic combined with the sauteed onions created a bold flavor. The hay fries had a touch of sea salt that only begged her to have more cider. Fleur made a note about the place. The motif and cuisine held a lot of promise.

A sound of shattering glass stole the attention of the duo. A pegasus pony, apparently bent on vengeance for his shattered lager, pushed an earth pony away from the bar, which was answered with a hoof to the jaw. In short order, the area around the bar erupted into a general melee.

"Whelp, here we go," Mac remarked off hoofedly.

“I do believe that’s our cue,” Fleur lamentingly was setting her burger down.

“Eeyup,” both went towards the exit as an earth pony went flying towards the table a moment later. The pony wore a jacket with the patch that said "Mareyans". He was followed by another earth pony with a unkempt blonde mane and stubbly growth at the base of his mouth. A worn looking "Colts of Anarchy" patch was proudly stitched on the back of his coat.

Mac was taking point as the two were working towards the exit. A unicorn came trotting towards, only to be laid low by Mac. Fleur reached the exit, magically holding it open, first for a Mareyan pegasus flying not under his own power followed by Mac exiting very much under his own power.

"Jax, you ok?" an older looking earth pony with grey hair spoke while trotting over to check on his charge. He extended a hoof.

The blond stubbly earth pony took the offered hoof, "Yeah, I'm alright pop."