//------------------------------//
// Escalation 
// Story: Collapse, Collide 
// by Zombificus 
//------------------------------//

“Diamond, it’s going to be okay,” reassured Filthy Rich as he stood in the hallway of the Ponyville townhouse he and his daughter shared. “It’s only a meeting and besides, your teacher will be there to keep things under control. I know you’re worried but I need you to at least try to take your mind off it. Please, for me?”

Diamond was unconvinced; frowning up at her father as he tried to convince her that everything would work out. 

It wasn’t working: if anything she was more worked up than she had been before… he was trying to help her, though, so she put on a smile and made an attempt to calm her voice.

“I’ll try, Daddy... No promises, though – I can’t control what I feel.”

Filthy sighed, sensing that this was the best he’d get from her. He snatched up his coat from the hanger by the open door and pulled it over himself, turning to give his daughter a goodbye hug before he left. 

Tousling her mane playfully before turning once more to the door, he took his hat off its rack, pulled it onto his head and strode out into the cool evening breeze, coattails flapping behind him. 

Diamond watched him trot away until he was merely another moving dot on the horizon, before she too turned away, pulling the door closed and sliding the chain across.

All she could do now was pray that Silver’s parents wouldn’t be too hard on him, although if they were capable of anything like what their daughter had done, all the luck in the world wouldn’t save him.

She looked up at Celestia’s setting sun and projected her prayer over and over, a mantra for the sun goddess: ‘Please, let this be okay…’



*



The clock on the wall read three minutes to seven and, looking around the table, Cheerilee could see that everypony she’d invited was present. 

Both of Silver Spoon’s parents – the thin, severe Glimmer and the rigid, impassive Argentitus – sat on one side of  the elliptical wooden table, with Filthy Rich and Applejack seated opposite. Cheerilee, at the table’s head, shuffled her papers awkwardly and steeled herself to address the ponies around her.

“Everypony appears to be present, so we will begin. As you already know from the letters through which you were asked to be here tonight, this meeting has two purposes:

“Firstly: to relay a detailed and unbiased account of the events of Monday afternoon, during which time I must ask you not to interrupt. It is of the utmost importance that we are all clear about what happened. Your questions, should you have any, will be answered at the conclusion of this report.

“Secondly, some information has come to light from one of our students on a related subject, and I believe it is crucial that all present are informed about these revelations.”

All heads turned to Cheerilee, and at their silent insistence she began to relay the events to her small yet terrifying audience.

Although she had been trying to keep an impassive, professional tone as she read, Cheerilee was unable to mask the disgust in her voice when she relayed the things Silver Spoon had said to Apple Bloom. 

She was not the only one whose emotions momentarily surfaced: Applejack’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears and Argentitus looked frankly aghast. His wife, however, wore an expression that showed no concern whatsoever about the nature of their daughter’s words, and even a little pride.

Taking deep breaths in an attempt to regain her composure, Cheerilee shuffled her papers once more and continued her report of the incident. 

As the news that Diamond Tiara had, as reported, struck Silver Spoon in the face, it became Silver’s parents’ turn to look angry and upset and Filthy Rich’s to stare back at them indifferently, misplaced pride swelling in his heart.

Racing to finish relaying the incident before arguments broke out, Cheerilee hurriedly detailed how she had broken up the fight, sent Silver to the infirmary and spoken to Apple Bloom and Diamond Tiara about the incident.

“That concludes my report of Monday’s events…” she stated. “If you have any questions, now is the time to ask.”

First to raise a hoof was Argentitus, and she nodded at him reluctantly.

“Did you not interview my daughter about the incident? I do not believe I can trust your judgement of these events to be unbiased if you have not even done this small thing.”

Though his words themselves held little more than the typical Canterlot haughtiness, the way with which he spoke them whispered dark threats of anonymous complaints and unscheduled inspections of the school.

Responding coolly, Cheerilee turned to look him in the eye.

“It was, and still is, my fullest intention to interview Silver Spoon, but she ignored the advice of the infirmary nurse and left the building before I had the chance. And although her injuries were not serious - though admittedly unpleasant - she did not attend school today. Had she been here, I would have endeavoured to speak to her the moment it became possible.”

The stony-faced stallion muttered something darkly under his breath but did not contradict her. His wife, however, was not so easily placated.

“Why has that wretched Tiara filly not been expelled for striking my daughter? A Canterlot school would not hesitate to punish such brutish behaviour, so why would a school in a princess’s hometown let it go without retribution?”

Cheerilee groaned inwardly: she had been afraid of this.

“That Diamond Tiara has not been punished yet does not mean that she will never be. Were it not for the circumstances, she would already have been assigned a punishment. However, her reasons for striking your daughter complicate the situation somewhat and I do not want to misjudge my actions regarding this incident.

“Besides, psychological harm can be just as – if not, more – damaging to ponies at this young age. Your daughter has hurt a great many of her classmates over these past three years, and the effects in some cases have been quite serious. I am sure that Canterlot schools would not condone this sort of behaviour, either.”

She held Glimmer’s gaze for what seemed like forever, until the noblemare turned away, a look of disgust scrunching her features.

Sending a silent prayer to the princesses to get her though this meeting alive, Cheerilee cleared her throat in preparation for delivering Diamond’s testimony. 

This was not going to go down well.



*



“Mum?” 

Derpy looked up from  her dinner. “Yes, honey?”

“Uh… me and Auburn have been thinking about something and I think we need some grown-up advice. I was wondering if you could help?”

“Of course I’ll help, what is it?”

Dinky tapped her hooves together awkwardly, trying to figure out how to phrase her question.

“Diamond Tiara came and apologised to me today, about the things she said. She seemed like she was telling the truth, so I said I forgave her.”

“I don’t see anything wrong, Dinky.”

“Neither do I. But what me and Auburn were wondering was whether we should let her hang around with us, since she doesn’t have any friends anymore. We aren’t sure what to do, so I wanted to know what you thought.”

Derpy’s baffled expression turned to one of understanding, accompanied shortly after by a proud smile. “That’s my filly: kind to everypony, no matter how mean they’ve been… I don’t have any problems with it, so long as you don’t let her push you around.”

Dinky grinned. “Thanks, mum!”

“No problem, honey”, replied Derpy; laughing gently as she returned to her food. It was moments like this which made her immeasurably proud to be a mother: no matter what life threw at them, Dinky would always be her little ball of sunshine, and for that she was unendingly grateful.



*



Cheerilee waited nervously for the mutterings of the attendees to quiet down, clutching at her notes like a drowning mare to a lifeline. Eventually, the room fell more or less silent and she was left with no option but to speak.

“Second on our agenda tonight is to ensure we all have a good understanding of the testimony of… Diamond Tiara.” 

She struggled to speak the name, knowing all too well that this would plunge the meeting irrevocably into vitriol and negativity. 

Sure enough, Silver’s parents resumed their furious whispering at the mention of Diamond, and Filthy Rich turned a shade whiter. 

It was one thing to hear it from his daughter, but in a meeting? With the parents of the filly that the tale condemned still in the room? It was madness, utter madness. 

He supposed it needed to be said, but nevertheless he wished it didn’t: a sentiment Cheerilee agreed with fully.

The schoolteacher raised herself to her full height, wanting her next words to be taken seriously.

“Some of the things I am going to relay some of you may find upsetting. I do, however, request that you do not interrupt me. It will be best for all of us if your questions are asked after I have finished speaking, believe me.”

She scanned the faces: Silver’s parents looked ready to start a war, whereas Filthy Rich was the very picture of dread and Applejack wore an expression of wary curiosity. She tried to keep her own face impassive, but she could not be sure that none of her biting worry showed. Trying to feign confidence, she smiled something more like a grimace and began.

“Diamond relayed to me her account of her three-year relationship with Silver Spoon when I spoke with her yesterday. Needless to say; it is an interesting tale, and shocking at times. I cannot be certain that everything she said was the truth, but I do not doubt that she was sincere in the majority of what she said…”

Satisfied that she had given them all as much warning as she could, Cheerilee finally began relating the tale.

“Diamond said that shortly after Silver Spoon joined the school and became her friend, Silver suggested that they… heckle their fellow students, and that she agreed to this because she wanted to be a good friend to Silver. 

“On the subject of their continuation of such activities that year at school, Diamond described herself as becoming rapidly disillusioned with the idea, whereas Silver Spoon seemed to become more and more invested in taunting the others. Diamond said that Silver seemed to treat it as a duty to be fulfilled and positioned herself as the equivalent of Diamond’s boss, were this a business situation.”

Applejack had leaned forwards during this revelation, drawn in by the knowledge Cheerilee was delivering, in stark contrast to the room’s other occupants, two of whom were turned to face one another in hushed discussion and the third having slumped in his chair in that peculiar way foals in trouble often did; as if trying to escape the harsh judgement this would bring upon him as the father of the filly who claimed these things were true.

Honestly, Cheerilee was a little surprised that Silver’s parents hadn’t vocally objected to Diamond’s testimony yet, although it only took a cursory glance at them to know it wouldn’t be much longer before the clearly visible rage overflowed into arguments.

Endeavouring to get as much out as possible before the dam burst, Cheerilee cleared her throat and continued. 

“Diamond told me that following an unsuccessful attempt to steer herself and Silver away from bullying the other foals, Silver instead began threatening Diamond into doing as she told her. Due to these threats and a fear of backlash from me if she revealed the truth, Diamond continued following Silver’s instructions until last June, when she decided enough was enough and visited Silver’s house to tell her that she would play no further part in these affairs.”

“Bullshit!” somepony screamed, and everypony turned to look at the source of the yell.

Here it was at last: Glimmer had finally cracked; yelling her objection at the top of her lungs as if she were throwing a verbal knife into the account. Cheerilee could only watch as she let loose a torrent of fury from her cruelly beautiful mouth.

“My Silver is no bully! She is a noble filly, you imbecile, it is not her fault these… these commons do not know their place at her hooves. It is not her fault that she needed to teach these halfwits the simple lessons their parents should have taught them. They have no respect – no respect at all for their betters. Vile, disgusting, fiiilth, the lot of them!” 

“Mrs Argentum, I hardly think- “ began Cheerilee, but Glimmer cut her off furiously, the dam once blocking the river of her vitriolic thoughts having been torn thoroughly asunder by her gushing rage.

“DO NOT INTERRUPT ME, SCHOOLTEACHER!” roared the unhinged noblemare, her voice harsh and high-pitched like a violin being played by a psychopath.

“Don’t you even dare lecture me on what is right and wrong, when you cannot even distinguish between a lesson being taught and common bullying. I shall have your job for this transgression, believe me; even the commons deserve someone whose moral compass is not so fatally flawed as yours. I'll bet you believe all that mindless prattle about 'equality amongst the classes', don’t you? 

“Well, I say: not in a million years! We stand separate because we are noble, we stand separate because we are better. We will not be made to lower ourselves to your festering cesspool, with the proletarian scum who filthy the very ground upon which they walk.”

Glimmer was barely recognisable as the refined mare of minutes prior: spittle sprayed from her vicious mouth, her eyes were wide and devoid of all sanity and her mane stuck out at sharp angles as if trying to escape the madmare it was attached to. Ignoring, or perhaps not even seeing the expressions of shock and fear upon the faces around her, she ranted on and on and on and ON.

“What would you have us do?” She demanded, livid. “Live among you? Taint our precious blood and breed with you? Why not mate with the changelings while we’re at it?! Never, I say, never! NEVER!”

Devolving into utter madness, she roared the word again and again, even as her husband shook her in an attempt to wrest her back to reality. Eventually he gave up on this tactic and instead dragged his wife forcibly from the room into the corridor outside. The door closed with a loud thud, and silence reigned supreme at last, reclaiming its lost dominion near instantly with the aid of shock.

Nopony spoke.



*




Diamond could not sleep. She had spent the day trying to apologise to the others and had then gone on to complete her mountain of homework; the combination of which had left her drained of energy; but she still could not sleep.

Her mind strayed for the umpteenth time that evening to her father and Cheerilee, Silver’s parents and Applejack. She  hoped desperately that it was all going well; that her father was alright, but she found herself unable to convince herself that it was truly so. 

She turned onto her side and closed her eyes; even still, she was unable to shed her troubled thoughts and fall into sleep’s embrace.

It was going to be a long night, indeed.



*



It was a long ten minutes of silence before the muffled argument outside the meeting room ended and a slightly dishevelled Argentitus Argentum trotted back into the room, muzzle still held slightly aloft in a display of arrogance and supposed superiority despite his ruffled collar and disordered mane. 

Stiffly and somewhat pompously, he straightened his tie, turned his collar and smoothed down his silver mane before returning to his seat. 

“My wife will not be returning to the meeting.” He stated matter-of-factly, avoiding all eye contact whilst displaying an expression almost resembling embarrassment. 

Still somewhat taken aback by the rage she’d been subjected to before the unplanned break, Cheerilee acknowledged his statement with a nod and a look which tried to be consoling, but never quite made it that far. Gulping nervously, she returned to Diamond’s tale.

“Alright, since we now have everypony who’ll be attending back in the room, I think we may as well finish the testimony.”

Receiving shaky nods from the others, she took a deep breath and continued on where she had left off.

“Diamond informed me that when she told Silver Spoon last June that she did not want to bully the others any more, Silver threatened to sabotage the business relationship between the Riches and the Argentums  if Diamond did not continue to follow her orders. Diamond felt she had no choice but to give in to Silver’s demand and thus the pair continued to torment the other foals, particularly three fillies: Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo; who do not yet have their cutie marks. 

“Silver Spoon also stopped hiding her dislike for Diamond following the events of June and became particularly unpleasant during these past few months. The end result of this, as we know, was Monday’s incident along with this evening’s meeting. Unless you have any questions for me, this meeting is now adjourned. Further letters regarding the punishments of Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon will be sent to whom such information concerns as soon as our decisions are made.”

At the conclusion of her report, the room fell silent before one by one the occupants of the room left their seats to say their piece to her.

First was Applejack, being the closest to Cheerilee of the three.

“I already heard a lot o’ this from Apple Bloom, but it was good to have it from an… official source such as yerself. I advise you go lightly on Diamond, but try to get her to make amends no matter what ya decide. As fer Silver Spoon, I’ll be happy with whatever y’all at the school come up with.” 

Returning her trademark hat to her head, she nodded at Filthy Rich and Argentitus before trotting briskly out of the room.

Next up was Argentitus himself. He frowned at his hooves for a while, seeming to  struggle with his words, but eventually he drew himself up to his full height and met Cheerilee’s gaze.

“My wife was, I have to admit, rather… unkind in what she said to you earlier. I sincerely apologise for her behaviour and assure you that your job will remain unthreatened. That said, I agree with my wife in that this school is no longer the right place for Silver.

“I believe it will be better for all of us if we simply moved away and educated Silver elsewhere. I will punish her as I see fit, don’t worry, but she will no longer be your concern. We will file the proper paperwork post-haste; that will be all.”

Cheerilee let out an involuntary sigh of relief at the news: punishing Silver Spoon aptly would have proven a serious challenge for her, not to mention that her continued presence would only cause more harm in the long run. Flattening down her slightly frazzled mane, she turned to the only remaining occupant of the room besides herself.

Filthy Rich waited until the door clicked shut once more before speaking, evidently afraid to voice his thoughts in earshot of Argentitus.

“Would you mind if I called you Cheerilee?” he asked, courteously. Cheerilee smiled a little, having been worried that he would bring up her failure to spot the true goings on between his daughter and Silver Spoon.

“Not at all… And would you like for me to call you Mr Rich, or just Filthy?” she replied, trying to keep the conversation’s mostly pleasant mood.

“Rich will do, I have always felt that Filthy gives off the wrong sort of message when separate from the rest of my name. To get to my point, Cheerilee, I mostly wanted to say that you needn’t feel bad for not uncovering this sooner. 
I shouldn’t have let myself ignore Diamond’s warning signs for as long as I did; had I acted upon my first suspicions we would likely never have come to be having this meeting. The time now is not for blaming, it is for fixing what has been broken, so I hope you will accept my offer of help regarding Diamond’s side of this. Some good shall come of this, I am sure of it.”

Cheerilee stared at him. Her first instinct was to thank him for forgiving her ineptitude in spotting the problem, but that would not have been professional, so instead she shook his hoof.

“I would be honoured to accept your help regarding Diamond, Rich… perhaps we could meet another time? I have some work to complete this evening, you see.”

Filthy Rich smiled genuinely and nodded. “When you have the time, of course; I understand how difficult it can be to work around a busy schedule. Until next we meet, Cheerilee: farewell.”

The businesspony left the room quietly, and Cheerilee found herself alone with the papers and the empty chairs. In the end, her main aims had been accomplished, but the meeting had still been a struggle to survive with sanity intact: she wanted nothing more right now than to go to sleep.

Perhaps that paperwork could wait until tomorrow.



*



Applejack tapped a hoof lightly on the wooden floor, idly humming along to a meandering tune of her own creation as she waited for Filthy Rich to emerge from the meeting room. She had decided on what to say that afternoon, after reading through the surprisingly prompt replies from her relatives, the last of which – Braeburn’s and the Oranges’ letters, respectively – had arrived from Derpy just after three o’clock. 

The overwhelming response from the others was that they would be perfectly happy to supply the Riches with fresh fruit – and in doing so get their own already well-known products out to an even wider customer base – for as long as it was profitable for them. 

It made sense, when she thought about it: they did not have the same personal connection to the Riches that Apple Bloom’s constant torment had developed in her, so they were able to view the offer with less bias. They clearly saw an opportunity to be taken here, and were apparently of the mind that if you don’t take a little risk here and there, then you just ain’t living.

Her musings were interrupted by a door opening, from which a stallion stepped smartly – the door and the stallion, in fact, which she’d been waiting for. He looked at her with a little surprise in his eyes, evidently having been expecting an empty corridor and not a farmer on the other side of the door, but there was no hostility in the stallion’s gaze, only a noticeable flicker of guilt. 

“Applejack?” He said, quite pleasantly, although there was a little wariness in the way his voice subtly wavered. “I didn’t think you’d still be here, since you spoke to Cheerilee first. I’m guessing you have business here besides the meeting itself?”

The farmer smiled briefly, silently thanking him for providing her a clear avenue to bring up the subject of the deal. “As a matter of fact, Mr Rich, I was wondering if you had minute to talk?”

“Yes, of course. What did you want to talk about?” The slight quaver returned to his voice: he was nervous; no doubt fearing a backlash about his daughter’s behaviour.

“Apple Bloom listened in on what your daughter said to Cheerilee yesterday – I know because the first thing she did was go home and tell me what she heard. There was one thing in particular I found interesting: from what I understand you’re about to be in some serious financial trouble, am I right? 

“The Argentums are about to drop you and yer company like a ton of bricks. You ain’t gonna be able to break even without their goods so unless somepony provides y’all with a replacement product real fast you’re finished.”

Filthy Rich blanched; he did not need any reminders, especially not from a pony whose very presence reminded him of his failings as a father. 

“W-what’s your point?” he asked, weakly; his eyes filled with dread. The mare’s face curved into a smile as she answered him.

“My point, Mr Rich, is yer damn lucky my sister’s not the sort to hold grudges. She not only forgave your little girl, she convinced me to talk to the other Apples about offering you some kinda deal.”

Hope rose unbidden in his heart and he clamped onto the idea like a pony grasping for a branch to pull them from the cold embrace of a rushing river. 

“A… a deal?”

Applejack chuckled good-naturedly, “Yeah, a deal. We – the Apple Family, that is – would be willing to provide you with a supply of every kind of apple we grow for your stores’ food sections. 

“The oranges would be willing to give you a limited supply of their produce, too, and if it goes well we might consider lettin’ you sell the Zap Apples and the cider we make. It sure as Tartarus ain’t silverware, but it’s there if you want it.”

Filthy Rich stood still as a statue for several seconds, blinking his eyes in shock. And then, like a spring being released, he pulled her into a crushing hug. 

“T-thank you! Thank you so much!” He sobbed into her shoulder and Applejack patted his back awkwardly until he exhausted his catalogue of thanking words and fell once more silent.

Unable to free herself from the stallion’s embrace, Applejack cleared her throat and he let her go. The moment she could get some air into her lungs she hastily added: “There’ll be terms and conditions, of course.”

“I don’t care; whatever they are, I’ll take it. You have no idea how much this means to me!”

Still unsure whether her ribs had all survived his expression of gratitude intact, she mentally replied: ‘no, but my lungs sure as hay do’, before voicing a more professional answer.

“If this doesn’t give us a decent return, Mr Rich, we’re gonna have to pull out. We barely have enough money as it is without losing more through you. That’s term number one. And I think we need a rule about personal space, bear hugs aren’t exactly what I’d call a professional way of accepting a deal.”

This last point earned her a sheepish apology from the stallion, who visibly cringed when he realised how uncomfortable that must have been for her. 

“It won’t happen again, I promise… Anyway, your terms seem fair enough, Applejack. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

He offered his hoof, and Applejack shook it. 

‘Of course I’ve got a deal’, she thought wryly as the simple action sealed the contract between them. All that was needed now was paperwork for formality’s sake and the agreement would be set in stone.

Applejack released his hoof and trotted slowly to the door, calling back: “I’ll have the paperwork ready for Thursday at the latest. Until then, Mr Rich, I have a family to get back to and you have a daughter.”

Filthy watched her go and shook his head. He was having difficulty accepting what had just happened, it all seemed so surreal. But he could still feel the pressure of her hoof on his and he knew that for the first time in a decade, life had given him a brief reprieve.

As he stepped out into the starry night, he looked up at the moon and whispered an earnest thank-you to the princess of the night for answering his prayers. It was not over yet.



*****