I'm still standing in the doorway to the library as Golden Retriever stalks up to me from her little corner of the room, frantic expression on her face. "I have absolutely no idea, all I know is that we’re officially discussing it over lunch tomorrow," I admit, "I think I need your help." I consider that. "Actually, no, I'm mostly certain I need your help."
Golden's eyes widen behind those daintily balanced spectacles. "Me? Doctor Princess Sparkle, I was sent here to assist you in bureaucratic matters. I'm not a business negotiator."
"Well, yes, which means you know more about what I can and can't barter with. Rarity will be doing most of the actual business, I hope."
She stares at me for a long moment, in a way that makes me feel sort of itchy. Have you ever been really respected by somepony and then said or done something that makes that pony not only re-evaluate their respect for you, but actually re-evaluate why they ever had any respect for you in the first place?
Apparently if you watch them do this it makes it feel like a couple of baby parasprites have gotten under your coat. I don't like this feeling.
"I'm a scholar, not a businesspony. I've spent more of my life practicing how to avoid dealing with ponies than I have actually dealing with ponies. So, rather than put myself into a situation I have no practice in, I'm going to swallow my pride and delegate to the two most qualified ponies I can think of." Applejack was also considered, but that idea went south when I remembered Rich has already got leverage over her.
"Well, I'm flattered you'd consider me, but what good is the Element of Generosity in a business negotiation?"
I blink. Gears grind and crunch almost audibly between my ears as I process that.
Did she honestly just ask me that? She did, didn't she. She has absolutely no idea what Rarity is capable of, does she?
I smile the smile that drives small foals insane and adults to previously unknown levels of irritation. It's the 'I know something you don't' smile and it fits me like a sock.
"Golden, did you bring any clothes with you from Canterlot?" I can't keep a trace of sly out of my voice, hard as I try.
There's a tentative silence. "No," she finally admits, albeit a smidge hesitant. "Why?"
"The Element of Generosity is also a very talented dressmaker. Seamstress? Fashionista. Pony."
"I didn't think I'd need clothes," Golden admits, "Isn't Ponyville very... liberal in that regard?"
"Yes, Ponyville is practically naked on principle," I agree, "So how does a seamstress stay in business here, of all places?"
"I'm sure..." No words come. Whatever she was sure of when she started talking, it's evaporated into nothingness now. Her eyes scrunch up a bit in thought, almost like she's licked something bitter, "Actually, that's a very good question."
"Well, first thing tomorrow, we'll go find out." I also fail to suppress the almost giddy squee of delight as I say this. "Then we're going to need to organize a sit-down -- that's what it's called right? -- with Filthy Rich and sort this whole thing out. I haven't signed anything yet, so we should be safe until he drafts up the initial paperwork." At which point it becomes 'no-takies-backsies'.
"Will Spike be coming with us?" she asks, completely reasonably considering that I haven't told her what's happened to Spike in the last twelve hours.
"Not as such, no." It would be rather difficult, at this point. "He's not... well, he's not going to be coming back to the library for a while."
"I see..." she says slowly. "Well, actually, I don't, but I'll trust your word on this, Doctor Princess Sparkle. If you wish to sleep, I've shifted the papers into the basement. I apologize for entering your room without permission, I thought you would approve of my initiative."
You are on a roll with that initiative. Yes, I absolutely approve of getting my bedroom back, and the thought of you going through it fills me with a little thrill of embarrassment. It's always just a little shaming when a pony sees such a personal space of yours for the first time and it's so ill-kept.
Then she said the magic words, whose sound waves hit my ears like honeyed dew drops.
"I'll have a fresh pot of coffee ready for you when you wake up, with a shot of chocolate syrup."
Hallelujah! Sleeping in my normal, not paper-avalanched bed, Spike happily sleeping off his own growth spurt to leave me in relative peace – I love him, but if a little brother snoring was bad enough, waking up to the foot of your bed catching on fire was a whole other level of annoying – and coffee in the morning. A good end to an exhausting day.
I wake up the next morning to sunlight streaming on my eyes, a hot, and excessively large, mug of coffee on the bedside table, and the knowledge that I'm about to have a lovely morning introducing Golden to Rarity for the first time.
Do you ever get the feeling a day is just going to go well?
I reconsider that. I look up at the sky and – actually it's kind of gloomy and overcast. Perfect.
If it was a beautiful day I might have gotten suspicious. But, no, it's not a perfect day in Ponyville.
It's something far better.
I trot downstairs, hale and hearty from a dose of caffeine and sugar sufficient enough to give Pinkie Pie pause. I crick my neck a little bit, and a few other joints, enjoying the freedom to do so since Spike isn't here to tell me it's creeping him out. News for you, buddy: you're a dragon, you don't think fingers weird me out? Because they do.
Golden Retriever is slumped at her desk, drooling a little. She's huddled up to the edge of it and snoring soundly under a blanket of what appears to be a bunch of forms stapled together at the corners. It's like chainmail made of actual mail.
I tiphoof up to her and, fortunately, the contents of the forms are facing outwards, so I don't have to purloin her blanket to read it.
I make a little thoughtful 'hrrm' noise as I glance them over. They appear to be... blanket and room and board requisitions? She could have just asked! She should have just asked! I have a spare bed made up for her either way, it's not like I'm going to run out of room in the treehouse anytime soon. It's not going anywhere.
Still, she's set an alarm clock on her desk. The brass bells are set to irritate the heck out of anypony in earshot in fifteen minutes. I slurp at my coffee... it was still warm when I woke up. She must just be having a nap after getting me my sweet, sweet ambrosia. Err, coffee.
Silently I wonder just how much sleep she's gotten. There's a sizeable pile of files in the 'out' tray, and I don't even have any idea what's on them. How much paperwork could suddenly owning a kingdom generate?
Apparently a lot. There must be a form for every stallion, mare and foal in Ponyville right there, and their homes and businesses.
Actually, come to think of it, there probably literally is that much, because it's not official until somepony signs a form off on it, and something this... intense probably means you can't just sign it in one bulk lot. I'm heartened to know that Celestia's team of lawyers at least had enough consideration to treat ponies individually, rather than as one bulk entity. It restores my faith in lawyer-kind for a moment. They probably have some boring, practical reason, but until I'm presented with it, I'm going to choose to believe they did it this way to stall whoever is the recipient of Luna's 'gift' as much as possible.
And all that gruntwork has landed squarely on the shoulders of a pony who really didn't deserve it. I suppose I didn't deserve it either, but at least I'm not an innocent bystander sucked into all this. Like Golden is.
I grab a blanket off the spare bed and replace the paperwork-mat with it around Golden's withers. She smiles around her drool puddle a little. She deserves at least a restful slumber before she dives back into my mess...
I stop the alarm clock and get to work separating, filing and filling out the request-blanket. I'll just wake her up with a cup of tea – she seems like the kind of pony who'd prefer tea – when I'm done. She's earned it, and I need her at her best come noon.
Rarity's bell above the door chimes as the door brushes against it. She appears from around a corner, red designer spectacles still balanced on her nose, and starts reciting her mantra when she sees Golden appear before I do.
"Why, hello dear, and welcome to Carousel Boutique, where every garment is chic, unique and magnifique." It's at this point that she notices me standing behind her. "Ah, yes, and hello to you too, Twilight. Is this a new friend of ours, hrrm?"
"Hopefully the first of many." I consider the implications of that seemingly harmless phrase. "But not too many."
Better.
"I take it you're not here for a fitting then." She tries to hide her disappointment, but it's still fairly evident. Everything she's absent-mindedly carried with her from her workroom droops a little in her telekinesis.
"Actually..." I smile. I love being the bearer of good news for once, why can't this happen more often? Please, universe, let this happen more often. "We are. Golden doesn't think she needs any clothes whilst she's around Ponyville. Completely devoid of a wardrobe."
Rarity's friendly face is swapped out and discarded for a mask of impressive determination and frightening intensity. What's particularly impressive is that you can only see it from this side... if you're standing and looking at her from Golden's perspective, it looks downright pleasant. It's like a seeing-eye puzzle.
Rarity scares me sometimes, but in a good way.
"That's simply not true darling, and an oversight we must be sure to correct immediately. With a dainty figure as lovely as yours, why, you look dazzling, but we need something to emphasize the shape you have, maybe something tight on the curves but breezy on the accents. If I can make Rainbow Dash look like a lady you will be a proverbial walk in the park. Allons-y, into the fitting room, we need to get some measurements off you, yes, yes, I'm feeling very inspired." As she said this, Rarity shooed Golden deeper into the fashionista's lair, beyond all rescue.
Abandon all hope, ye who enter here unfashionably.
Golden is lost to a flurry of measuring tapes for a while as Rarity attacks her from all sides, holding up some measuring tape and a notepad and quill, tutting every few seconds for good measure. I honestly believe that she thinks a measurement is inaccurate unless it comes with a few good clucks of the tongue.
Golden's smiling at the very least, alternating between weak reluctance and genuine enthusiasm, and she's answering all of Rarity's questions. They seem to get along, at least.
I brought a book with me just for this, to kill time dead. It’s an old and thick tome about what, exactly, my responsibilities include now that I'm in charge of this humble land. Apparently I can do whatever I want, short of a violent uprising, so long as I collect taxes on behalf of the Princesses and funds for the betterment of Ponyville.
The book basically consists of telling me that, so long as I don't throw too many lavish parties for myself, I'm good. Also, if I do want to throw too many lavish parties, I have to invite everyone so they don't get mad.
There's something about letting them all eat cake, for some reason, but the heading for that chapter was cut off.
When I finally emerge from my literary ensorcellment Golden has a papery wall of designs erected about her, hovering and swirling at an even pace around her. Rarity wasn't kidding when said she was inspired. Most of them come from a folder of pre-made designs, but judging by the freshness and crispness of some of them, no few have been sketched just now just for Golden.
"Now, Golden, I know you weren't sold on it when you arrived here, but now that I have the designs here in front of you, are you sure there isn't something I could have you walking out of here wearing?" She glanced around the designs, pointing out whichever caught her eye at that moment, "Wouldn't these just accentuate your hips so wonderfully? And this, oh, so wonderfully slender, it would look positively scrumptious on such a divinely petite figure."
Golden blushed, which did things to my heart that cannot be healthy. I'm still sitting down and it's acting like I've run a marathon.
"They're all so pretty... they'd be wasted on me," she finally admits, shyly.
Rarity gawps, which is like gaping only with more intensity and a lot more fun to say. "Darling, you cannot be serious. If you cannot see the beauty in yourself, I'll have to send you home with a better mirror. I have dozens, I could spare one if yours is truly so horrid."
"My mirror's fine, it's just... this." She gestured with a hoof at her legs. "And this." She gestured again at her flanks. Frankly, I saw no problem with them, but if that's what it took I would stare at those flanks until I found one.
Nope. Sorry, Golden, but even under intense scrutiny I cannot see a single thing wrong with you in that department. I'd almost feel guilty if I kept looking at this point.
My eyes return to the book and I blush a little, glad nopony was noticing me.
"This is a crime, nay, a sacrilege, to let such beauty go unappreciated. Here is what you are going to do, Ms Retriever. You are going to buy three dresses from me, of your choice, and they are going to be very flattering and absolutely divine and make you look so splendid even you must be able to see it. But first, I will choose a dress from this list and make it for you, right now, so that you can be utterly convinced of just how right I am. Do we have a deal?"
Golden raised a hoof and opened her mouth, but Rarity had already made her decision.
"Splendid! Now, just hold still, whilst I get the fabric. Twilight, be a dear and help, would you?"
"Hrrm?" I ask, intelligently and with much dignity. "Oh, yes, sure, right, certainly. Fabric. You. Help. Carry. Yes." I then get up to go and do this thing which is asked at me.
I meet her up in her organized chaos room. She hefts over a large bolt to me, smiling like a big Cheshire Cat that's caught a little Cheshire mouse. "Your new friend, hrrm?"
I grip the bolt and steel myself for the next. These things might be heavy to most ponies, but yesterday I pushed a train loaded with precious metals. Hit me with your best shot! "Why did you say it weirdly like that?"
"What? Like this? Your new friend?" She repeats, hefting another bolt over to me, this one a beautiful wine-red.
"Yes, like that."
Rarity stops smiling very suddenly and studies me very seriously for a moment. "Oh, dear me, you really haven't worked it out yet. Truly?"
Worked what out?
"Are you saying she's not my friend?" My heart stops, dead, and I grow very concerned because it makes me feel very nauseous. This is a very bad feeling and I wish it would just go away because it is unpleasant and icky and I don't like it one bit.
"No, dear; you couldn't hear us, but I assure you she appears to think the world of you."
Icky feeling is killed stone dead, and a bubbling cheery brightness blooms from its deadened stump. Mood swings? Really? This is getting extremely irritating now.
Rarity continues, still observing me carefully as she adds some powder-blue to the growing pile. "I'm saying, Princess Twilight, that you have a crush." I blink numbly, dumbly. Rarity forges ahead, determined to make her point, "You are smitten. Golden Retriever has you twitterpated. You would like to snuggle cozily up to her on a cold winters night. You wish to have cute pet names for her and for her to have the same of you. You desire of her a romantic courtship. Your heart yearns for her tender embrace. Am I getting through to you?"
Honestly, I should be surprised, but this would explain a heck of a lot.
I try to think of a snappy riposte, retort, some acerbic wit or some friendly sarcasm or something intelligent. All I muster up is a weak little, "Oh."
There's silence as Rarity grabs a few bolts for her own pile, then nods towards the door. I finally manage to think of something vaguely intelligent to say. "So... if I like her... do you think she likes me back?" Okay, intelligent by twelve year old needy foal standards, but a steady improvement from 'useless babbling baby', for sure.
"Honestly, that I could not tell you. I hold an innate bias in desperately wishing everything would just go perfectly for you two, I don't trust my own judgement, I'm afraid." A tense, tight little Gordian knot forms in my chest. Darn emotions, they don't do anything but mess you up. "But I can tell you she has a profound level of respect and admiration for you, Princess, and that's a start." The Gordian knot is cut! Hooray emotions! Sometimes they mess you up in fun ways! They're like... gliding.
Sometimes you're just falling and it's terrifying and awful and icky, other times you hit a thermal and you're soaring and it's the best thing in the world, and you can never know which it's going to be until it happens.
"Now, stop standing there grinning like a lovestruck filly and carry those down for me, won't you kindly? We've got to get this mare to see in herself what we see in her, I dare say."
I nod, but Rarity's already turned to the door and started leading me down the stairs. I nod again to myself, though, to confirm the first nod wasn't all in vain. I received your message loud and clear, me.
Don't judge me, we've all done that.
We get back downstairs, Golden watching us from her little modelling pedestal with a curious mix of trepidation and an anxious curiosity. She doesn't believe we'll be able to do her justice, but not-so-deep down she hopes we can.
Well, Rarity can. I'm just the muscle at the moment.
Yesterday put me through some serious magic training. Oh, man, I can't believe I didn't think of that until now.
"I don't know what you're smiling about," Rarity tells me, with a rather amused expression of her own, "but if you'd just put those down in the corner over here, that would be lovely. Thank you very much."
I avert my eyes for modesty's sake. Even though we're always naked, there's something about the act of dressing and undressing that's just inherently intimate. It feels rude, for some reason, to watch Rarity work her very special magic.
Even if the temptation to do exactly that is overwhelming.
There's a certain fascination involved with watching Rarity zap and stitch fabric into what amounts to a wearable sculpture, a work of art cut from cloth. It really is amazing to watch such a skilled pony turn nothing into something, particularly on a pony as attractive as Golden. With their gorgeousness combined, it's like a force multiplier, more beautiful than the sum of their parts.
Okay, so I peek. Can you blame me?
What Rarity's worked up for Golden is elegant in its simplicity, which is to say it's simply elegant. It's a tight scarlet slip with one long cut along the side from her waist to the floor. The colour compliments her pale-gold mane and grey-with-just-a-bit-of-blue coat and it's just... it's indescribable, but I'm trying as hard as I can to put its glory into words.
Usually she looks petite with long, shapely legs, which is attractive enough, but the slip just emphasis her legs whilst hugging tightly to her form in a way that emphasizes what form she does have, particularly around her hips. Oh, those hips.
"Wow," she breathes, admiring herself in the mirror. Wow is right. Wow is certainly a word I would use if I hadn't just been rendered breathless.
Rarity smirks triumphantly at me. "It seems our audience is in complete agreement. There is no way you can tell me that you don't look drop-dead gorgeous. Princess, some choice adjectives for Ms. Golden?"
"Stunning. Awe-inspiring. Elegant. Graceful. Ravishing" Beautiful, I don't add, because I'm being slightly less-than-professional as it is.
"Thank you, dear, so you may keep this, and I'll start work on the next three as soon as possible, yes?"
"Oh, yes, thank you. Thank you so much!" Golden hugs Rarity, tears in her eyes. "I'll pay you whatever you want, it won't be enough, just... thank you."
"Think nothing of it... unless you're telling your friends," she adds with a sly wink.
"So, Rarity, I'm sorry for taking so much of your time already, but you're the most talented business pony I know. Would you be amenable to helping me negotiate a business agreement with Filthy Rich?"
Rarity smiles. It starts low and cheerful and then develops; it develops teeth and bite and other things that would send small herbivorous animals into a catatonic state. "Darling, I would be delighted to flex these new ladyship muscles. Tell me, when is this negotiation?"
"It's at midday today. At the bank, so Spike can sit in. He’ll be meeting us there. He'd adore a visit from you, anyway."
Rarity pursed her lips and glanced at a clock. I followed the direction of her gaze and--
Oh, woops.
Big woops.
It's five to twelve, and it's at least a ten minute walk.
"Alright, quick question; would it be faster for Golden Retriever to change out of her new dress, or for us to change into one."
Golden stares at me in a look of utmost horror and clings to herself protectively. Rarity levitates her spectacles over to her and I almost weep at the result. This is what Rainbow Dash would call the 'sexy librarian' look taken all the way to 11.
"Well, normally, I'd say changing out. However, factoring time in to coax her out... I'm afraid I'm too brilliant for my own good, Princess, I've really outdone myself."
"It's... it's still just Twilight. But, okay, I see your point. Would you happen to have anything suitable for us to wear?"
Rarity stared blankly at me for a long second. Finally, she broke the silence with a little, "What, you were serious?" and a glance around the store. At all the dressed up mannequins in our approximate measurements. Rarity ducks behind a curtain and, with a few sundries pulled in from hither and thither, re-emerges in a beautifully tailored and exquisitely expensive suit. I suppose that makes her a haberdasher too, which is a fantastic word.
"Now, I have two options for you; that little yellow number you seem so fond of, or your coronation dress. I'd suggest your Grand Galloping Gala ensemble, but I haven't quite refit that to your current change in physique. Not only are you taller, but it doesn't quite work with wings."
I glance around the mannequins. "I'm looking for something a bit more business." My eyes fix on one in particular. It's a flattering dark grey skirt with a white dress shirt and red tie with a waistcoat to compliment the skirt, resplendent with thigh-high stockings. It just screams professional at me, and let's face it, I'd look darn good in it.
Rarity follows my gaze and makes a thoughtful noise. "Well, I suppose, the original client decided they wanted to try a different style, upon seeing it. I suppose with only a few adjustments..."
A few adjustments later and I had 'high-powered executive' written all over me. Maybe high-powered secretary, or High Librarian, but those were rather fine, too. Unfortunately there was now only two minutes to spare.
Fortunately I have had a lot of magic practice, lately, and have gotten quite good at this whole teleportation business.
I just pray this works.
Wow, long distance teleportation is so much easier when I get the chance to glide in between Pewbang!s.
"Eugh, my head," Golden mutters.
"Yes, you never quite get used to that." Rarity admits. "Though, admittedly, it's far more pleasant than the alternatives, when we've come to need it."
I don't know what they're talking about. Twilyportation is awesome.
We're currently outside the bank
"Shall we abscond to the vault, then?"
Abscond, like haberdasher, is a fun word.
"Why, yes, I would like to see how little Spikey-wikey is doing."
'Little' Spikey-wikey? Oh boy.
"Just hold on to your proverbial hat, Rarity. He's not so little anymore." I chuckle. She shoots me a curious look over her shoulder. I shoot a conspiratorial wink back. "Just wait, you'll see. It's sort of really hard not to."
Rarity goes on ahead first, with me and Golden following shortly behind side-by-side. She leans in close beside me and, be still my beating heart, whispers "Are you sure about bringing Rarity in for this? She did just give me this dress."
I roll my eyes. "And managed to sell you three more in the process whilst still making you think you were the one coming out ahead."
Golden stares at me for a few long moments, again one of those long calculating looks of hers. "She is good."
I smile and try to keep the smug out of it. "She's right though. You do look beautiful in that dress."
She blushes a little and glances away. If before I got that feeling that she was reassessing why she ever had any respect for me, now I'm getting the feeling she's reassessing how she could ever possibly have doubted me.
It's not just a good feeling; it is the best feeling.
I would even dwell on it were on not for Rarity's shrill shriek, forcing the moment to die an immediate and pained death.
"Should have seen that coming." I murmur, mostly to myself. Golden arches an eyebrow at me. She has the most expressive eyebrow raises, she's managed to make this one seem both accusatory and quizzical. "Spike got big. You'll... you'll see."
We manage to get down the spiral stairs before Golden sees Spike. I can tell she's seen him because she gasps and throws a foreleg over her mouth.
Spike got big. He's nearly two and a half times as tall as a pony now and it's all thick, scaly muscle.
Also, his modest little throne may be gaudy like nothing else, but it's got a certain charm to it. Rarity's certainly fawning over it, much to Spike's bittersweet chagrin. There were a whole host of conflicting emotions on his face. Embarrassment, pride, a bit more embarrassment, joy, discomfort, nervousness, infatuation... basically, the whole gamut of emotion you experience when your childhood crush starts showing an unprecedented amount of interest in your physical appearance.
Rarity, for her part, seemed to have shrieked in giddy delight, because of course she did.
"Oh, Spike, what happened to you?"
My surrogate little brother nervously rubs the back of his much more masculine-looking head with a claw the size of mine. "Twilight gave me the bank vault as a hoard, which is how dragons mature, I guess. So, I'm big now."
"Oh, yes, and so handsome too." Rarity crooned, cupping the bottom of his newly-elongated jawline with a hoof and fluttering her eyelashes at him. He's bashfully avoiding her gaze. Eyes on the floor, ceiling, walls, anywhere but his crush. I surreptitiously sneak a glance at Golden, and she's smiling warmly at the pair. I get the feeling we're both trying not to laugh at the big, tough, scary dragon's expense.
"Gee, Rarity, really?"
"Oh, absolutely, Spikey-wikey. Just look at these, ooh, broad shoulders or this, mmm, thick chest muscles and, oh my, biceps and abdominal muscles. I bet you could just throw this gold around like it were a sack of potatoes, couldn't you."
I smile, and my 'annoying older sibling' senses tingle. There's a chance to mortify Spike afoot! "You should have seen him, pushing whole wagonloads around like a shopping cart." When he was barely big enough to push one of those by himself the other day, I don't add. There's harmless teasing and then there's just being mean, and it's a fine line to walk. Besides, harmless teasing results in--
"Oh, I could just imagine. I have a whole summer lineup forming in mind, just based around this wonderful colour scheme you have working for you, it's delightful. Oh you look so absolutely gorgeous, I hope you haven't been too lonely down here."
"Nah. I'm napping a lot, and Pinkie Pie has been keeping me plenty of company."
"Well, I'll be sure to come down and visit, Spike, just be sure about that. I wouldn't want you to get cabin fever."
"Are we interrupting something?" an infinitely amused Filthy Rich interrupts from the top of the stairs, followed by two ponies I can't yet identify. "I thought we could talk business."
"Filthy Rich, right on time." I inject as much cheer and enthusiasm into my voice as possible. Punctuality scores big points in my books, but it's hard to be enthusiastic about business. "Who is this you've brought with you?"
Filthy smiles, and it seems genuinely friendly. His constantly-tired eyes belie the constant thought and calculation that goes on behind them. It takes a very smart pony with a very unique skillset to be able to profit more from the Apple family's labour than the Apple family do.
Huh, I never thought of it like that. I don't know whether that thought should make me really impressed or kind of angry. Maybe both? Is that petty?
Ceasing her doting on my not-so-little surrogate brother, Rarity shoots me a glance that says a lot. Like, really. In that glance she manages to say "Just let me do the talking for a while. Interject if you must, but trust that I know what I'm doing. Please pass the message on to Golden Retriever in confidence, if you'd kindly, as she doesn't have the friendship-based-telepathy we do. Thank you, in advance, darling."
Huh. So I guess friend-based telepathy is sort of a thing. Yesterday at the train station suddenly makes complete sense.
"Just let Rarity do the talking for now," I whisper to Golden, "we'll go from there."
She nods. I nod. There's a lot of succinct nodding all around. Good. It gives the illusion that we're actually ready for this.
Filthy Rich descends the stairs into the vault. Fortunately Pinkie Pie won't activate whatever security systems she has in place until we advertise that this is actually a bank, because that makes this a heck of a lot easier. I have no doubt the collective insane genius of Discord and Pinkie would be enough to destroy whatever chance we had of a pleasant business negotiation should Filthy accidentally trigger a trap.
I can finally identify the ponies that trail behind him, but I don't recognize them. One is a unicorn that has a coat that appears to be both the colour and texture of a burlap sack and a mane that's dark and very tightly cut, no curves, all right angles. His cutie mark is a bright yellow iceberg and he's serious looking with tight, thin lips. Filthy introduces him, which is a relief, because otherwise I'd just think of him as Goldberg and that'd be stupid.
"I hope you don't mind I brought my own counsel, Princess. This is my accountant, Goldberg."
And now I'm really glad I didn't say that out loud.
Beside him is a leaf-green unicorn mare with a salmon manecut styled in a manner that appears to have escaped from fifty years ago, latching onto her scalp in the present with a vengeance. She wears thick, horn-rimmed glasses in front of eyes that are cold and humourless. Whereas Golden Retriever pulls off the whole brainy-secretary look in a manner that's professional, endearing and, let's face it, kind of... kind of... she just makes it work for her, this mare just comes across as professional, sterile and discomforting. Very discomforting. Even her cutie mark is a blank, crisp piece of paper.
"And of course, to take the minutes, I brought my secretary, Pencil Pusher."
She gives the room a curt little nod, her chill calculating gaze lingering only on Spike, who's trying to juggle gold bricks. I shoot him a stern look and he reincorporates them back into his throne, smiling back at me sheepishly.
No matter how tall, wide and muscular you get, my dear Spike, I will always be the Big Sister.
I teleport a desk and chairs from upstairs, with Spike's throne at the head. Fortunately Pinkie Pie started organizing comfortable furniture before she worked out exactly what she wanted the walls to look like. She and Discord are still arguing over the swatches, which I wasn't aware you could get in marble. Anyway.
I offer the three newcomers seats on one side of the table and gesture my little entourage to ours.
Rarity looks at me and gives me her own curt nod. Right, my time to shine.
"Mr Rich, this is The Element of Generosity," I notice Pencil Pusher's smirk and commit the sight to memory for later indulgement, "Rarity. Your daughter and her sister are in the same class."
"We are acquainted." Mr Rich smiles faintly. "Has Diamond Tiara been causing any trouble for Sweetie Belle lately?"
"Not lately." Rarity admits. "So you may rest assured I may keep personal feelings from the matter out of this negotiation."
"That's right," I grab on to this and run with it, "she will be my business consultant." Rarity sits down in the offered seat on my left, next to Spike's throne. "On my right is Golden Retriever, who will be acting in a legal capacity to help draft and witness for Spike," I nod once at the dragon, who does an odd little finger wave where he opens and closes one finger at a time in order. It's hard to describe when you have hooves. I think he just likes rubbing in the fact that he has them. "Who will be acting as my scrivener and notary, so this all turns out nice and legal. Any objections so far?"
"This all seems perfectly acceptable to me." Filthy Rich says as Paper Pusher levitates a briefcase onto the table in front of him. Goldberg stares at Golden with a very odd look.
"Your name is... Golden Retriever?" He asks, finally. Golden just smiles and fishes a little laminated card from her dress and slides it wordlessly across the table to Goldberg. He glances down at it with a curious look before turning very pale and sliding it back. "I respectfully retract my statement."
Golden leans across and whispers "Thank you," in my ear. I'm glad to see she's already getting mileage out of my gift.
"Now, let's start by discussing what we previously agreed, then." Filthy announces. Rarity glances at me aside, looking rather amused.
"Yes." She says, "let's."
"Ponyville is in dire need of new infrastructure to support the new influx of citizens," he states clearly, "which it will need to reignite the economy here. Ponyville has been a stagnant economy, moving neither forwards nor backwards, for years now. We have brain-drain, or skilled labour shortage, no incentives to operate out of Ponyville... It's a tragedy. Our home has the potential to be so much more than a podunk farming town, it's just that nobody has been able to give it the little push it needs."
I take a second to glance at my co-conspirators. Golden seems as fascinated as I did yesterday when I first heard this, and Rarity looks serious. She has that expression whenever somepony mentions spreading her business in Canterlot or Manehatten; interest and excitement tempered by wary dubiousness.
"I'm offering Barnyard Bargain's full support in the development of Ponyville. With our interests in construction and construction supplies, by making a minimal investment, we would be able to build the planned universities, corporate sites, technological parks and the homes and infrastructure to support them, all for, and I cannot stress this enough, minimal costs and locally sourced labour." He finishes, pushing a small pile of well-labelled, sorted and itemized papers in front of us.
"Wow." Golden mutters before slapping a hoof over her mouth and glancing at Rarity, as if for permission. Rarity doesn't seem to notice... she's staring at the packet in front of her, sorting and shuffling through the papers in the air in front of her, the papers dancing in her levitation. Again an odd expression on her face, the one I have when I see an exotic food for the first time; I'm told it's excellent, but if I have to be told it's excellent it tends to be because I won't believe it of my own volition. That sort of expression.
"Your deal seems to make a lot of sense, Mr Rich." Rarity admits tentatively, "You do appear to have the resources at your hooves, or the potential to access those that you don't. This would also be a fantastic investment on our end, the influx of new population, and earning potential, increasing our potential tax income."
I guiltily admit to myself that I didn't even think of that. All I thought of was universities and tech-parks as far as the eye could see, staffed by Ponyville's best and brightest mages and scientists and scholars and teachers and don't drool on the paper, it's not polite.
Still.
Still, I sense a but coming.
"There appears to be two main caveats that I can identify. This deal works excellently in both our favours, at first glance, but then I caught the words 're-zoning'. How much of Ponyville do you plan on developing?"
"The bounds of the demesne aren't overly large. We would strive to keep as much of the farmland intact, as it is still the lifeblood and heritage of Ponyville, but a majority of the land edging towards the Everfree forest would--"
"The Everfree forest?" I interject, "Isn't that, I don't know, kind of dangerous?"
Goldberg makes a placating gesture. "It does negatively affect land value, we must admit, but we feel that the low initial cost of buying that land for development could pay the highest dividends."
Filthy shoots him a glare. "I don't think the Princess was informed of the financial risks involved, Goldberg." He turns back to me, smiling placatingly, "Actually, I had that well in mind. If you look in the packet, you can see that the building site closest to the forest--"
"Is the planned agricultural research university and labs." Golden finishes, finding the relevant page and passing it over to me. "The research potential of such a unique natural landmark would be boundless, and to get the most qualified ponies in Equestria involved in studying and protecting it..."
"I'm very impressed, Mr Rich." I admit. "A lesser pony might have just considered bulldozing the forest and being done with it."
"We considered that." Goldberg adds with a sigh, "But the costs were rather prohibitive."
Filthy Rich and I both glare at Goldberg. Finally Mr Rich massages the bridge of his nose with a hoof, "I apologize for my accountant's outbursts. I assure you there are very few ponies that are better with the numbers than he is. It appears that sometimes he forgets about what meaning those numbers can have."
"Yes." Rarity rolls slowly, savouring the sarcasm, "I'm sure you had no part in suggesting that particular plan."
Filthy Rich, at least, had the common decency to pinken and look away.
"Also you say minimal investment: How minimal are we talking?"
Whilst Rarity and Filthy (and Goldberg) haggle over the price I lean back over to Golden. "Do I really have the power to rezone Ponyville?"
"Absolutely. One of the key roles of a demesne is to influence it in ways you think best benefits its citizens and the kingdom. Rezoning is one of the least of your powers."
Gulp. So much power.
"Thank you, Golden." I say, not really feeling it. She smiles with pride regardless.
"So, we've settled on a reasonable price then?"
"Barnyard Bargains will match, and beat, any quote an outside competitor offers, in exchange for initial investment, a cash seed, for the growth necessary to undertake the planned undertaking."
"That sounds... utterly reasonable." Rarity admits, although she sounds disappointed. "I do say, Mr Rich, that I had half expected you to have swindled our very intelligent but rather naive Princess into a deal that was vastly in your favour, but it appears, at this current stage, that everything is on the level."
"Lady Rarity," Filthy pantomimes shock and indignation, "I'm appalled that you'd think so poorly of me."
That draws a smile out of her. "Liar. Admit it, you're rather flattered."
"That you thought I could so easily take advantage of Princess Sparkle? Of course I am." He laughs. I shoot Rarity an indignant glance and, across the table, Pencil Pusher graciously gifts one to Filthy.
"I suppose now is the time to draft it." I admit, still glaring at Rarity, who pretends not to notice.
"Ah, ah, ah!" Rarity tuts, finally acknowledging my glare and matching it with one of her own. "Mr Rich, I'm afraid at this juncture we can only agree to the terms set by Barnyard Bargains in regards to investment and future contracts. The nature of these contracts is still to be decided. I will not allow my good friend Princess Sparkle to pen her name to some legal bondage that allows you to resculpt Ponyville in your own image especially not one that allows you to choose which areas are re-zoned for what purposes. That shall remain the exclusive right of the ruler of this demesne."
Pencil Pusher blanches, looking at Rarity like she's suddenly placed a cockatrice on the table. I compare it to that smug look of hers when I mentioned she was Generosity and am filled with a serious case of the warm and fuzzies. I knew that was worth dedicating to memory. Goldberg stares at Mr Rich curiously as a dangerous glint forms in the latter’s eyes. "Ah, Lady Rarity, I wouldn't dream of it."
I make a note of him kicking Pencil Pusher under the table, making a note to make sure he doesn't notice my noticing, and a pile of papers in the briefcase are stealthily wrapped in her magic and promptly torn to shreds. Macerated, one might say, because much like abscond and haberdasher, it's a fantastic word.
"Did you see that?" Golden whispers to me.
"Still any lingering doubt about the Element of Generosity?" I whisper back.
Golden shakes her head slowly.
I smile. "Well, I'll have my legal consultant look over the paperwork you've prepared and make the necessary adjustments, then Spike can sign it and it'll be all nice and legal."
"It would be my honour, Princess." He bows his head graciously. I approve. Also, I'm going to name something after Rarity for this. Maybe an orphanage or something.
Another hour or so is spent by me hovering over the legal pair's shoulders, dotting i's and crossing t's. Rarity and Filthy continue talking for most of it pleasantly, but it feels like there's a conversation under the conversation they're currently having. Diplomacy hurts my head, but I suppose it would be far too easy if ponies just said what they meant.
Spike and Goldberg managed to keep themselves occupied by trying to work out the current market estimates of Spike's throne. I only had to intervene when Goldberg told Spike that the value of his throne would probably increase, due to craftsmanship, if he melted it and sculpted it with his dragon's fire, rather than just leaving it as a collection of gold bricks. I had the feeling as soon as my back was turned Spike was going to try it.
Finally it was time for the signatures. Filthy Rich and I both scrawled our names in fluid cursive letters and Spike stamped it, marking it official. I cast a simple duplication spell on it and a blank pile of paper, effectively giving Filthy an identical copy of our agreement. Pinkie Pie apparently had already installed a safe for me in the main vault, because that's where Spike found a place to put our copy.
Goldberg coughed into a hoof. "I don't mean to be rude, but when can we expect payment? The sooner we receive the seed money, the sooner we'll be able to effectively-"
I cut him off, because I find him highly unpleasant and I don't wish to hear his nasally voice a second longer. "I'll load up a cart for you. You can count it, if you wish."
Goldberg blinks. "You mean us, figuratively, right?"
"Well, I was thinking you. You look stronger than Pencil Pusher, no offense Ms Pusher, and I don't see you fobbing it off on your employer." I smile at Mr Rich. He tries desperately to conceal a smirk at the idea as he nods back.
"None taken."
Goldberg looks horrified, "Can't we just-"
"Come on, Goldberg, it's character building." Filthy smiles blindingly, like a lighthouse. Goldberg is overpowered by it. He grumbles slightly, and a petty part of me revels in it.
"Excellent!" Filthy declared. "It was a pleasure doing business with you Princess Sparkle. Hopefully we'll get a chance to do it again sometime.
After dropping Rarity off, leaving behind my infinite gratitude, I return to the library with Golden in tow, grinning like a lunatic.
She keeps shooting me odd glances, but I wait until the door closes behind us before I break into full-on dance mode.
"I didn't stuff up nearly as badly as I thought!" I squee, dancing, "And even when I did stuff up, I knew to go get help and unstuff myself, rather than let ego get in the way! Today has just been great hasn't it?"
Golden Retriever has found a mirror to do a little twirl in front of, smiling almost as wide as I am. She looks back at me rather abashed. "I'm sorry, Doctor Princess Sparkle, I'm not normally this vain, but..." She breaks off, devolving into schoolgirl titters.
I join her. We dance around the library like drunken loons, smiling and grinning like idiots. The kind of idiot that can only be achieved by very, very intelligent ponies.
"I'm not as naive as Rarity thought!"
"I'm as pretty as Rarity thought!" We declare simultaneously, then fall back to giggling and that bizarre, seizure like writhing that unco-ordinated ponies do when they get very happy and excited about something that they can't contain it, so it comes out of their bodies in excited shudders.
"What should we do now?" Golden finally asks, panting, both our faces still sore from smiling.
"Celebrate!" I declare. "Rarity's a bit busy, us taking so much time out of her schedule to help us--" I'd feel more guilty about that if I wasn't seriously going to make it up to her, "But you could meet the rest of my friends."
"You mean the other Elements of Harmony? The national heroes that have saved Equestria more times than I have hooves?" Yes, them. Who else could I be referring to? I mean, why even mention it.
"Yeah, my friends. They're really nice. Well, Fluttershy is really nice. Rainbow Dash is, to use her word, awesome, and Applejack is about as friendly as they come. Just... steel yourself for Pinkie Pie. I'm sure she and Discord could use a break anyway."
Golden turns very pale. I assume it's about Discord, because what about meeting my friends could be intimidating?
"Don't worry about Discord. I don't think he'll want to come, even if he's invited. Actually, I think if we invite him he won't come out of spite."
"Oh..." She murmurs, "Good."
"Well... okay! Where should we have lunch?"
"Can... can it be somewhere nice?" Golden asks, rather timidly at that. "I don't think I'm quite ready to stop looking pretty yet."
I smile knowingly at her. "I'll organize for us to meet at Pomme Frites. It's a nice little cafe, but it's still reasonably affordable. You won't look out of place in your new dress there." I don't think she could look any happier if I told her that I had resurrected a beloved grandparent and they'd bought her a puppy. "Besides," I add thoughtlessly, "I think you look pretty without it, anyway."
And then my brain catches up to my mouth.
"You... you do?"
Oh, well, in for a bit, in for a gold bar. "Absolutely. You're a very beautiful young mare."
She blushes and looks at the floor, murmuring something that sounds like a 'thank you' but could just as easily been 'milk, eggs, bread' she says it so quietly.
I fight down the redness of my own cheeks and try to manually slow down my hammering heart. I resist the temptation to use my magic to do it, because that might kill me, but then I wouldn't get the chance to die of embarrassment, so I'm tempted.
"Alright! So! You have work to do here. I guess. Try not to spill any ink on yourself whilst I go rally my friends, and I'll come back and take you out to the cafe."
That's a plan. It's a good plan. I like plans.
When I think about plans I don't have to think about the things that I just said to the really pretty mare blushing across from me oh geeze think of checklists, think of checklists.
First Fluttershy, then Rainbow Dash, then Applejack, then Pinkie Pie and Discord. Right. Let's go then.
The walk to Fluttershy's cottage is uneventful. I think people are avoiding me after yesterday. It might be the normal fear intermingled with the fact that I literally threw Big Macintosh like a lawn dart at somepony.
Yeah, I'd avoid me, today, too. Somehow the fact that I did it to protect my friends means that the usual anxiety about ponies being scared of me is replaced by a dim sense of warm pride.
Today is a good day.
I knock on Fluttershy's little cottage door, and the meek little pegasus greets me for my troubles. "Oh, hello Twilight. It was very nice of you to drop by. Would you like to come in for some tea?"
"Actually, Fluttershy, I was going to invite you out for tea. We're celebrating all the new changes that are going to be happening to Ponyville!"
Fluttershy smiles weakly for a moment, but it dims and dies over the course of the next few seconds. "Changes?"
"Big changes!" I declare proudly, "Huge!"
"Oh." Fluttershy replies simply. "I see. Why... why are we celebrating that?"
That throws me for a complete loop. Why would you not celebrate complete and utter change? I mean, change is... big and scary and new and an unknown.
Oh dear. Maybe this wasn't the great idea it seemed like it was an hour ago.
"Did somepony say change? I adore change! It's so wonderfully eclectic." Discord curls around the doorway, beaming broadly, over Fluttershy's head. "Tell me, am I invited to this little shindig of yours?"
"Of course you are, Discord."
"Oh. Well, it's no fun if I'm invited." He pouts, receding from the doorway a little, "Still, I wish you the best! May our futures bring a great many changes, yes?"
"Thank you Discord." I say, suddenly feeling anxiety in my gut.
To understand why I feel anxious, let me sum it up in a simple statement: "Fluttershy thought it was a bad idea, but that was okay, because Discord gave it his full support." Tell me in what universe this statement results in good things. I dare you to think of one.
I guarantee that there are very, very few scenarios where it is this universe.
"I'm surprised you're not with Pinkie Pie, actually." I admit.
Fluttershy's eyes are sad as they meet mine. "He and Pinkie Pie had a... disagreement of sorts."
"She's a genius! I admit it!" Discord wails in lament, "But the girl is so dreadfully biased on the subject of which rocks to use. Pop rocks, rock candy, that we can agree on, but her choice of structural material is just so boring and practical."
"Discord, you're designing a bank." I remind him.
"Yes, which is why I take making it not boring and practical as a personal challenge. It's never been done before! Nopony had thought it possible!"
I take a deep breath, sigh, and prepare to lay down the law of my kingdom on the one denizen who could flout it whenever he wanted. "Okay, Discord, I'm implementing a new rule; if it's too fun for Pinkie Pie, then there's probably a very good reason for it. So from now on you can ask try to talk her into something exactly three times. If she still says no, you are to drop it and suck it up rather than fight with her about it."
Discord grumbles, and Fluttershy and I both shoot him a Look in response. He acquiesces, fortunately.
"Well, what if I don't?"
"Well, if you do," I'm going to use carrot and not stick here, because if I want to use stick this badly there is no way I'll be able to use a reasonable amount of it, "then I'm sure you'll win Pinkie Pie's lasting friendship. Also!" I raise my hoof skyward, as befits a proclamation, "I shall recruit you as my resident Everfree Forest expert if you can prove you can work well in a team with others. Which means you'd get to boss a bunch of eggheads around and have them all be jealous about how much you know about chaos magic all day."
Discord looks thoughtful regarding Pinkie Pie's friendship but I can tell he's practically salivating at the prospect of legitimate authority. Hook, line and sucker.
"I'm actually surprised you're not with Pinkie Pie either." That was from Fluttershy.
"Why's that?"
"Well, I if you're inviting all our friends out for tea, why didn't you just ask Pinkie Pie?"
I think about that for a few moments. Then, deeming no other action or combination of actions more appropriate, I apply my hoof to my forehead with velocity.
"Oh. Right. I should probably do that, then. We're meeting at Pomme Frites at four. I'd be delighted to have you."
Fluttershy smiles kindly. "You're welcome to come in for tea, now, if you want."
"No, thank you for the offer though, but I think I better go corral Pinkie Pie. See you later."
I trudge off, Fluttershy waving the whole journey down her path – Discord blowing me a raspberry he thinks I don't notice – and set off for Pinkie Pie.
She'll be back at the bank.
I spread my wings and take flight, aiming in the general direction of the bank's construction site, missing, then overcorrecting, then readjusting, missing, overcorrecting – how does Dash make this look so easy?!
I finally touch down at a little shack Pinkie Pie has set up for herself by the blueprints table. Work is coming along nicely, and the plans look suitably grandiose. It's not Pinkie's engineering skills I'm after this time, though.
"Pinkie Pie?"
The door of the shack bursts open, "Look, Discord, I don't care how good a backscratcher pumice stone is, we can't use it as as load-bearing column... Oh! Hi Twilight."
"Discord's been suitably reprimanded."
"Well, it's good he was primanded again. I tried primanding him myself, but I don't think it stuck."
"Yes, well, he shouldn't bother you about it again. I've told him that if you say no to the same question three different times, then he's not allowed to talk about it again."
"And he listened to you?" She gasps incredulously, like she can hardly believe it. Probably because she can't, actually, I was there and I still have doubts.
"I told him your friendship was on the line." I answer, completely truthfully except for all the bits I leave out.
Pinkie’s smile is as big and wide as I've ever seen it, and I've seen it big and wide enough to engulf entire wedding cakes in a single bite, so it's quite wide indeed. "Really? Aw, he knew he was just a big softy, at heart."
"If he asks for a glass of water, you're allowed to kick him, too." I add.
"I'll keep it in mind. So, is that all you came here to tell me?"
"That's just a bonus. I'm giving you a break from all your hard work, and inviting all our friends out to a big, celebratory afternoon tea at Pomme Frites, my treat, and I was hoping you could help me invite--"
"Applejack, Rainbow Dash and Rarity. You must have already gone to Fluttershy, 'cause you talked to Discord, and she probably gave you the idea to ask me for help, which you wouldn't bother with if you'd already done more than half the work yourself anyway. But I will help, because I'm always happy to help a friend, particularly when helping that friend results in tea parties!"
My mind catches up to the adrenaline rush that is Pinkie Pie Exposition. Finally, my mouth catches up to my brain, which makes a nice change from it being the other way around, "That's right, actually. How erudite of you."
"Erudite's a good word isn't it?" Pinkie agrees. "Like haberdasher. Or macerate. Or abscond! Or, oh, chimmichanga and picklebarrel. Those two are my favourite."
Okay she's in my head now and it's scaring me.
"No I'm not!" She chirps brightly.
Well maybe it was just my imagination then – wait, arggh! Argh!
Pinkie gets me back on track, though, "Anyway, yes, tea party, Pomme Frites, Applejack and Rainbow and Rarity. What time?"
"Four. Oh, and Rarity probably won't be able to make it, because we already... borrowed so much of her time, but tell her that's totally okay if she can't, and I promise I'll make it up to her. I Pinkie Swear."
"Do it properly!"
I sigh, but I sigh with a smile. Honestly, it reminds me of being a foal with Cadance all over again. It's childish, but sometimes childishness is fun. That's why kids love it so much. I recite the sacred ritual and pantomime them appropriately; "Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my... oh, no, no, I'm not falling for that one again."
"Good enough!" Pinkie agrees in a manner that can only adequately be described as bombastically. "Rainbow Dash might like it more if you invited her in person, but I don't know where she is, and if I don't know where she is then you won't know where she is, and I'm much better at hide-and-seek than you are, so I suppose it's a moot point anyway. Moot. Mooot. Moot point. I just keep finding more and more fun words, today, don't I?"
"So." I say in a desperate plea to rerail her train of thought, "Pomme Frites at four?"
"I'll see you then!" Pinkie agrees and zips off, her construction helmet falling to the ground where she once stood, as if she had exerted no friction upon it as she fled from under it.
Well, now that that's done, I might as well go talk to Golden about our lunch date.
Lunch date between friends you stupid, fickle emotions, you pipe right the heck down.
Then we can talk to my other friends about the proposed planned production of Ponyville's proliferation and get their opinions on it. A lot of ponies are about to start moving in to Ponyville... I want to gauge the reaction of Ground Zero for when it all happens.