//------------------------------// // Chapter 18: The Stallion in Black // Story: The Private Scrapbook // by Cadabra //------------------------------// Chapter 18: The Stallion in Black Just hearing about what happened to her grandmother made Applejack upset. “And ya still married him?!?” she nearly shouted, trying to keep herself composed as she mulled over what she had just heard. Turning to the next page in her scrapbook with a copy of the contract she had signed, Granny Smith began to explain why she had to marry Stinking Rich. “The only way outta this here contract was to marry him,” she explained as she pointed to the loophole. “He just tried to get me to the alter a lil’ quicker that night. ‘Course it didn’t help that we were both drunker than a pair of skunks in heat, and we were ready to go at it. Anywho, he weren’t expectin’ was this to happen.” Holding up the photo of the zebras, Granny Smith began to giggle girlishly as she thought about the mysterious stallion in black who had saved her that night... Smithy’s head was spinning as she held on tightly to the running stallion dressed all in black, her hair flying around her due to her up-do falling down. She had no idea where the black dressed stallion was taking her, but the further away she got from Stinking Rich, the safer she felt. The blackened figure brought her to a large clearing in the woods, revealing the ruins of the ancient castle of the royal pony sisters. The air still seemed to pulse with the temperate magic that Princess Luna used to defend herself before her banishment. Or maybe that was the effects of the alcohol pulsing against Smithy’s head. It was hard to tell. Stumbling off of the mysterious stallion’s back, Smithy tried to look around at her surroundings as she wobbled on her horseshoes. She didn’t take more than a few steps before slumping down and getting sick all over the ground. The mysterious stallion gently gathered up Smithy’s hair as she continued to upchuck. “Are you hurt?” he asked as he removed his cape, wrapping it around the weepy, sick pony. After spitting her last few contents out, Smithy took an opportunity to look up at her savior. “Bladire?” she asked weakly, glad to see a smiling striped face looking down at her. “Is that really y’all? I’m kinda drunk.” Laughing gently at the comment, Bladire wrapped his arms around his old friend’s shoulders. “You are seeing things as they are,” he said as she rested her head against his strong shoulder. Smithy was so grateful to have a shoulder to cry upon, and boy did she need a good cry right now. “How could I be so stupid!” she bawled. “I walked right on into it! He had me right where he wanted me the whole time and all I did was follow along like a dog goin’ after a bone! Now he’s got his hooves in my family’s profits, and he got his hooves on me! What kinda monster did I just make a deal with?!?” Having been Stinking Rich’s slave for several years, Bladire had seen this kind of back alley bargaining before in some fashion or another. “His thoughts are for himself alone,” he said as he looked Smithy in the eyes and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I have watched him make ponies do horrible things for his gains, and for the gains of the gang he belongs to. Never have I seen him do something like this to another. It grieves me to see you so hurt.” Of course he had hurt her, more badly than she could have ever imagined she could be hurt by anypony. But she had no idea he was hurting anypony else, or that he had friends who were out doing the same thing. “He’s in a gang?” she asked meekly, thinking about other ponies just like Stinking Rich hurting others. Bladire nodded sadly at the question. “They are called the Faction of the Stud,” he explained, a shiver of loathing creeping through his spine as he thought of the gang, thinking about how many times he had become an accessory in crime and wondering how he was ever going help Smithy now. “They are an underground criminal group, and they have lead him to believe he can do so many terrible things. If he has worked things as I fear, you may now belong to him. Now that you have signed his papers, you may no longer be safe.” Moving away from her puddle of sick, Smithy thought about everything that had transpired that day and how it had all lead to this. How could she let herself get so swept up in everything? And how could she let Stinking Rich take so much from her in such a short amount of time? “I don’t feel good again,” she said as she bent down to get sick once more. Once the sickness was over, Bladire lead the ill pony to a nearby creek to clean her up. After running through the woods and the upset stomach, Smithy really was a mess. “Please, clean yourself,” he gently suggested as he lead her to the water. Grateful for the chance to clean up and to wash the taste out of her mouth, Smithy began to remove her torn up dress. Taking her first step in the water was heavenly. The water was perfect, and Smithy felt so relieved as she began to sink into it. It just felt good to relax after such a horrible day. As Smithy took to the water to clean herself up, Bladire began trying to fold the discarded dress. He’d thought about trying to clean it for her in the creek, but after seeing the stains and rips in the torn yellow and white fabric he wasn’t sure if it was worth saving. While examining the fabric, he caught sight of the familiar onyx necklace pinned to the inside. “I can not believe it!” he exclaimed as he held it in his hoof, smiling with wide eyes as he held up the precious old trinket. “Kizzy’s necklace! You still have it! After all this time!” Watching the zebra’s ecstatic behavior made Smithy feel a little bit better. “Ya ever find her?” she asked. Bladire shook his head, his smile fading a bit with the question. “I have not,” he explained. “I hope to be able to find her here in this new town. If I am lucky she will be here.” Smithy thought about how hard it must have been to be without family for so long. “I could help ya look,” she offered enthusiastically. Though he appreciated the mare’s enthusiasm, Bladire knew it would not be an easy task. “My master would never allow it,” he sighed. “I fear for his cruelty, and for those in the Faction. All that I can hope for is the comfort of knowing she is alive and well.” Seeing the way the zebra shuttered, Smithy decided to get out of the water to go to him. “Why does he call ya ‘Toby’ anyway,” she asked. “That ain’t yer name, so why don’t he just use yers?” Bladire sighed as he took off the rest of his black clothing. “Do you see my back?” he asked, revealing a variety of long, gnarled scars. “My master owns a whip, and he uses it often. He used it the day he took my name and made me use another.” Smithy pawed at the gouges in disbelief. “He did this?” she asked, staring wide eyed at the scars and feeling even more disgusted in the man who had taken advantage of her. Bladire nodded sadly, feeling even more horrible that the scars had gotten Smithy upset again. “Do not be alarmed,” he said, trying to lift her spirits. “They no longer hurt.” This was clearly not the right thing to say, because Smithy backed away in horror and began to weep again. “No, no, no!” she cried, covering her face with her hooves. “I can’t stand to hear he’s hurtin’ ya! I just can’t!” Trying to think of a way to cheer her up, Bladire splashed her with some water from the creek. “Hey!” she squealed. “What’d ya do that fer!” Relived to see the change of tone, Bladire splashed her again. “You do not like to play, Smithy?” he said as he splashed her in the face, getting an eruption of laughter from her. To his relief, Smithy began to splash him back. Before they knew it they were soaked, laughing as they jumped into the water. The splashing soon turned into a good spirited game, the two of them splashing and laughing in the water. After such a serious talk it just felt good to have an excuse to smile. Bladire was relieved that Smithy was beginning to feel better, though he knew it was only just a temporary distraction. As they rested against the shore to catch their breath, he reached for her hoof. “I need to see you home soon,” he said, trying to sound more serious. “I fear for your safety. I do not want to see you be attacked again.” Sad to know that the friendly visit would soon be coming to an end, Smithy hugged her dear zebra friend closely. “I owe ya such a debt of thanks,” she said softly as she snuggled comfortably in his arms. “Yer too good fer all ya've been through, and yer too good fer the likes of me. How am I ever gonna thank ya fer all ya’ve done?” Bladire smiled as he looked deeply into his dear friends eyes. “You are you,” he replied. “That is all I can ever ask of you.” Leaning in closer than before, Smithy brought her face up to Bladire’s so that she could kiss him. She was pleasantly surprised to feel him returning the kisses, surprised by how good it felt to be held in somepony else’s arms. Cutting the kisses short, Bladire held her back. “Forgive me,” he said in a shaking voice. “I can not let you do this to yourself. I fear I am putting you in danger.” Smithy was disappointed, but understood his reasoning. “No, I… well,” she said meekly. “It’s just nopony treats me like ya do. Everypony else in town just acts different ‘cause we’re such an influential family. For once it’s just nice to not have to act like somepony else 'round somepony who I know cares 'bout me.” Bladire blushed at the compliment. “Why do you treat me as an equal?” he asked, trying to resist the urge to hold Smithy close to him. Smithy rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. She was surprised to feel his heart beating as fast as hers. “Ya remember that night we met in the alley in Canterlot?” she asked, feeling Bladire nodding. “I thought a lot 'bout ya the night mah daddy got outta Foalsom Prison. I wanted to know why them guards took ya away that night we met. We never really got a chance to talk that night, and that’s mah fault. I thought that if I got a chance to talk to ya, get to know ya for who ya were, that I could decide for mahself if ya were a good pony or not.” Bladire took a deep breath to calm his emotions, a gesture which did not work. “I had no idea,” he said as a tear landed in the water. “I have never had a fair chance in this land. So many think me an animal, one that can be used as a thing. But you, you make me feel like a pony.” Smithy could feel the angry heat rising in her cheeks. “It’s all that Stinkin’ Rich’s fault," she grumbled. "Why, if it weren’t fer him I’da talked to the princess all 'bout ya, but I was so scared he’d getcha hurt, so I kept mah mouth shut all this time. And he still found a way to hurt ya anyway.” Bladire took a deep, shaking breath as he felt Smithy hugging him. “It is as though he owns us both now,” he said as he rested his head sadly against Smithy’s, knowing deep down that what he was feeling for her would never be accepted in the eyes of those around him. “He has the power to take much from us. What more will he want to take? And when?” Smithy looked the crying zebra in the eyes, brushing the steady stream of tears from his cheeks. “I love ya, Bladire," she said softly, her own eyes leaking with emotion. “Stinkin' Rich may own both of us now, but he ain’t got what we got together." Overwhelmed by the courage it took to say what she said, Bladire returned the intensity of her gaze. “And I love you as well,” he said as he pulled her close enough to kiss. “Your friendship has meant more to me than you know.” Smithy was pleased to feel the kisses becoming more passionate, and allowed for Bladire’s hooves to wander under the water. Feeling her body growing more eager, she felt more than ready to allow for the zebra to couple with her. Unlike his predecessor, he was gentle and patient with her sore and tender body, taking his time to think of her needs like a real gentleman. Granny Smith blushed as she looked at the photo of the zebras. “He was real gentleman like with me,” she said, thinking of the night she shared with Bladire. Applejack covered her face with her hat to hide her embarrassment over hearing such personal details. "Ya know there's young ears in the room, granny!" she exclaimed, feeling her grandmother pinch her blushing cheeks. She watched Applejack give her a sour look at the mention of intimacy with the zebra. “Ya'd be surprised how powerful an aphrodisiac fear can be,” she said, smiling like a dirty old lady as she held up the photo of the zebras, “and this lil’ one here’s the result of it!”