//------------------------------//
// Standing Outside the Fire 
// Story: The Chase 
// by Gabriel LaVedier 
//------------------------------//

	The nightmarish thunderstorm and monstrous rain had moved along over the course of the night, which meant that the rising shine of Celestia's dawn glowed beautifully through scattering clouds and heavy mist. The slightly-filtered light took a bit of time to slip through the windows and past the slats of blinds or the folds of curtains. Appleoosa got up a little later that morning, and was a bit more reluctant to do so, with the lazy, peaceful heaviness permeating the area, as it always did after a good storm.
The light passed through the beautiful curtains of the upstairs room that normally only held Cactus Blossom the buffalo lass. But that morning the sun crossed over the sight of a chaste but still-adulterous liaison. Sheriff Silverstar, still bandaged up with salve-covered pads and poultices over his battered and swollen form, slowly stirred, still held in the comforting embrace of Cactus. One eye slowly opened, looking at Cactus' peaceful, sleeping face. “Mornin', darlin'. Ain't the first one but sure is the first one here in Appleoosa.”
“You have a most resilient spirit,” Cactus noted, without opening her eyes, “Even after all that has happened you still find a way to be both amusing and charming.”
“Part of why ya love me,” Silverstar said with a chuckle, which made him wince a bit. “Guess Cordelia did a good number on me.”
“She was most unkind, yes,” Cactus said with a shake of her head, “To think that a pony, of all species, would abuse another in such a manner. She was so cruel...”
“She was surprised, to say the least...” Silverstar said quickly, looking away from Cactus when she turned to stare at him. “She had no reason ta think ah was anythin' but faithful to her. She couldn't tell ah... stopped lovin' her when ah figgered out jes how she felt 'bout... near everythin'.”
“She could not have possibly been so blind,” Cactus said, sliding out of bed and going to her medical supplies to prepare new wraps and herbal mixes. “You spoke at length to me... you said how she hurt your heart over and over, with hateful words on all species, and other ponies. How you stopped being intimate, how you refused to remain in the house longer than necessary...”
“Ah know. Ah know...” Silverstar sighed, slowly pulling his sore body out of bed and making his way to Cactus' side. “Nothin' too heavy. Don't slather it on or pack the bandages. Gotta be a little discreet.”
Cactus looked on Silverstar with some concern. “But you are injured and in pain. I cannot reduce the treatment because it might make ponies talk. Your health and comfort matter more to me than the whispers of others. That it matters so little to you worries and saddens me. No matter what you will be treated as you must.”
Silverstar gave a lopsided smile as the first slather of cooling herbal paste smeared across his hammered-on body. “Darlin', if ah knew more words like one-a them college ponies ah'd use 'em all up in a minute telling jes how ah love ya.”
“You need not say a word,” Cactus said, kissing Siverstar's cheek gingerly before applying a mesh bag of herbs, “I know your heart, you never shielded it from me, and I have seen your true love, that feeling beyond words.”
“If only ah could enjoy all that affection,” Silverstar lamented, looking at himself in Cactus' mirror, “But ah gotta be off. Gotta get back on mah rounds and home again.”
“What?” Cactus looked incredulously at Silverstar. “How could you go back there? Go back to her? She hurt you. Hurt you terribly.”
“Ain't the first time. Probably won't be the last. Oh sure, it was always breakin' mah heart an' not tryin' ta break mah bones, but it ain't so different. Hurts all the same,” Silverstar said, with a casually-dismissive wave of a hoof.
“To hurt your soul, yes, this is very terrible. It lasts and persists and stings over and over. But... an abusive foal can scar the soul, but wounds will stop the heart. I know this is a saying over all of Equestria,” Cactus noted, softly.
Silverstar sighed, rubbing at one of the sore spots on his body. “Yelling and verbal hurts won't kill ya... ah know. But she ain't gonna kill me. She's got too much pride, loves her image too much. She's a pony, she ain't that mean.”
“Her pride is why I fear for you. She does not love you, but she wants you. She needs to keep that image,” Cactus insisted, carefully pressing against Silverstar's side. “Do not leave here. I will cancel my performances. Morton will understand. We may lay in passion and sweetness and she will never hurt you again...”
“May last until tomorrow, but Morton ain't gonna be kind forever,” Silverstar said, leaning into the press, but moving away shortly afterwards. “Ah want nothin' more than what ya said... but ah need ta get home. Cordelia's waitin' fer me.”
“Yes... I fear she is...” Cactus turned tearfully away, stifling a sob and falling back into bed.
Silverstar paused at the door, after picked up his clothing, looking back at Cactus' stretched-out form, feeling a stab of emotion in his heart. It cut far deeper and promised to linger more than whatever pain Cordelia had put him through. “Ah will see ya again. Ah promise ya. Ah ain't gonna get taken away from ya, ever.” He pulled open the door and walked out into the Salt Block.
When he got to the downstairs area Morton was already behind the bar, setting up the plates for salt and the mugs for the various drinks. He turned to regard Silverstar with a smile, which became a wince. “Sheriff, ah sure hope that feels better than it looks.”
“Feels like Tartarus. Hope it's a sight better'n that,” Silverstar quipped, putting on a good-natured smile over his nervousness.
“Only just,” Morton replied, mostly seriously. “Ah don't need ta ask, but ah will. Will Cactus Blossom be down here?”
“She said she wanted ta keep me up there, fer love and ta keep me safe. She's cryin' her eyes out 'cause ah'm on mah way back ta Cordelia but...” Silverstar started.
“Yer what?” Morton cried. “Goin' back ta that ice-hearted Windigo? She rang yer bell and ah doubt she threw out the hammer.  Yer crazy.”
“Maybe ah am, Morton. But ah gotta do the right thing. Ah gotta go ta her...” Silverstar carefully put his vest, bandana and hat on, adjusting the star on his chest. “It's a new day, Morton. She ain't gonna do nothin' ta me.”
“Ya know yer business, sheriff. Ah'll see if ah can get Cactus back down here ta try ta sing. Maybe one-a them old torch songs'll suit her mood. Ya know she's gonna cry her eyes out over ya 'til yer safe with her,” Morton said, practically scolding.
“Don't gotta tell me...” Silverstar softly answered, stepping out of the swinging doors into the light of the Appleoosan day. As he expected, there were hardly any folks on the street, mostly crews smoothing and flattening the street while also adding certain fillers, to get the pitted mud of the streets to dry into a harder surface. It was always powdered and crushed by the next storm, but in the interim it provided a surface that looked good and remained solid by being packed through regular traffic.
The folk out on the streets, workers or otherwise, all dropped cautious smiles and nods, discomforted by Silverstar's look. Only a few made any comment, primarily greetings, though one noted, “That was, uh, some storm, eh, sheriff? See it got to ya. Hope yer alright.”
“It was some storm. But ah'll live,” Silverstar replied, giving a smile as false as the one on the face of the speaker.
He walked, straight and proud in a big circuit around town. Appleoosa had grown beyond its simple origins because of the positive social and political reputation it had gained over time. Hobby farmers like the Bells set up decent homesteads, while the profitable mines, the fields of grass and grains and the famous orchard all needed workers, who all needed homes. It wasn't just a matter of winding through a few buildings, it could easily take all day to look into every nook and cranny.
He kept to a reasonable middle ground, circling around with the town proper to one side and the fields, homesteads, mines and prairie on the other. His normally steely eyes were watery and fixed on the ground more often than not. He was comforted by the fact that his distraction could not be of any harm to the town, thanks to the peace and security that usually reigned. Being mostly irrelevant had never been so comforting.
His casual patrol yielded no problems, and ate up time and energy. He was resolved to return to Cordelia, of course, but he knew very well that it was not likely to be a pleasant experience. He also had a job to do. As cursory of a job as he had done, it was completed, and in his state it was all he could manage. He had done very well with his meandering examination of town, ending his circuit at his own front door, just as intimidated by it as ever, knowing just what lay beyond.
Cordelia was sitting right in the front parlor, looking annoyed but giving a smile as she watched Silverstar enter. She was dressed in a fine red dress and a matching wide-brimmed hat. “Well, you took your own time returning, but I expected you would. I imagine you put in a good show, doin' your job and explainin' that you made a bit of a mistake. Good. Now, go get yourself ready.”
Silverstar was silent for a moment. He had so seldom seen Cordelia in anything but a bonnet. She had the dresses but reserved them for events that were common elsewhere, not in Appleoosa. “Beggin' yer pardon Cordelia... jes where do ya think ah'm off ta?”
“Why, you and I are off to that restaurant they finally put in town,” Cordelia said, adjusting her hat in a mirror. “True, you often see... those types I don't like in there, like that brazen hussy Clarion Bell and her husband, but it is the only proper place to see and be seen. And we must be seen. Even in that state, we have our appearances and reputations to stamp on the community.”
“Seems ta me ya made a mistake, Cordelia,” Silverstar said, with a calm and neutral tone. “Ah ain't sure what gave ya the idea that ah'd accompany ya there but ah ain't goin' nowhere with ya.”
“Is that so, Silverstar?” Cordelia inquired with annoyance, trying to push it down. “Then please, enlighten me, why did you return here if not to see me, apologize, and return to the way things had been, exactly as they were meant to be?”
“Ah did come ta see ya, of course. That was the right thing ta do. Ah owe ya that, fer all the years ya stuck by me. Fer all the yellin' an' hurts an' the hate ya had fer all them non-ponies. Ah owed ya the truth, and that's that ah ain't gonna be here any more,” Silverstar said firmly. “Ah'm strikin' out on mah own.”
“I see... well now, that is surprising...” Cordelia slowly trotted around the parlor, looking down to the ground, her face a neutral mask. “On your own, you say? All on your own? I suspect your little cow will be there with you.”
Silverstar grunted as though stricken, a small scowl crossing his features. “Don't talk 'bout her like that. Even if ya can't help bein' cruel, help it...” He shook his head and sighed. “It's true, ah'm goin' out on mah own. Ain't so shame in it. Ah'm a grown pony and a sheriff. Ah can surely live on mah own.”
Cordelia laughed, loud and coldly, shooting a steely look on Silverstar. “Really now? What a quaint notion, Silverstar. You're even more of a silly little yokel than I imagined. To think I believed you were reasonably sophisticated.”
“Y'all're from the sticks jes like me, Cordelia,” Silverstar noted, “And ya ain't ever said 'boo' 'bout yerself like that. What's the matter? Suddenly yer own homestead ain't good enough fer ya?”
“Oh no, it was certainly good enough for me. We had class and propriety there. We knew the way of the world and how to act properly,” Cordelia said with a sniff of superiority. “Don't throw your elected status at me, Silverstar. It is hardly a hereditary noble title, somethin' to flaunt. You had to be chosen. And while that country charm put you on the ballot it was my Pericarp bits and glad-hoofin' that put you in that job and keeps you there. I put you in this backwater as the law. It was me, and always me.”
Silverstar was quiet for a long while, looking thoughtful, and perhaps a trifle sad. “Ah understand it all, Cordelia,” He said at last, with a quiet but firm voice, “Ah thank ya fer all ya did, whether out of the goodness of yer heart or... whatever other reason ya had. Don't make no never minds ta me. It weren't easy ta live with all the hate, but ah thought... ya might get better...” He touched one of the poultices and looked sternly at his wife, “Never imagined ya could get worse.”
“Don't get self-righteous on me, Silverstar!” Cordelia shouted, taking a few steps towards her husband. “You cheated on me! Cheated on me with some no-status buff. And I can only imagine how long it has been going on. You made a fool of me with your bizarre tastes. I am not one to be made a fool, Silverstar. You have always been well aware of this. I deserve better and have always gotten it. You received a just payment for my humiliation. I will not hesitate to chastise you in exactly the manner you have earned, and I find no shame in it.”
“And that's why ah'm leavin', Cordelia,” Silverstar said, making to walk past her. “Ah jes need ta grab all mah things an' go. Ah won't take more'n what's mine...”
“You certainly won't,” Cordelia said sharply, placing herself threateningly before Silverstar. “There was one other thing which you happened to forget, Silverstar. This house is in my name. You had no objections when I did that. I thought you were being frugal, now I see you were merely being a fool.”
“So it is, so it is. Keep the place. Hope it serves ya well. But ah'm still takin' mah things...” Silverstar said, trying to carefully push past Cordelia.
Cordelia pushed him back firmly, giving him a hard glare. “Don't you understand? We may be wed and you may live here but the property is mine, alone. That is what the deed says, very clearly. That means that, without a great deal of legal wrangling, everything in this house is mine.” She very pointedly looked over Silverstar's battered body. “Everything is mine.”
Silverstar stared into Cordelia's eyes for a while, seeking any flexibility or kindness. He saw only cold firmness. A sigh poured out of his mouth. “Gonna be a bit before the circuit judge makes his rounds. And even if ah am the law in these parts, ah can't jes use it fer mahself like that. Ah'll take mahself out from under yer roof. Don't wanna get mixed up about what belongs ta who.”
“You would really do it?” Cordelia asked, disbelief permeating her voice. “You would walk out of this house with nothing?”
“If'n it means ah can walk out, yes ah will,” Silverstar said, simply turning away and letting himself out of the front door.