"Well, wasn't that a waste of time... I'm back, anyhow. Bleh."
The sound of a door shutting accompanied Lyra's disillusioned comment. She was home at last; and while nothing interesting had happened on her way back, she was still feeling quite rather... peculiar. She really had no idea how she could describe the emotion, not even to her own self. It was a curious mixture of annoyance, bewilderment and utter disbelief. She had already had the misfortune to get treated by Miss Treatment before, but the nurse had never left such a lasting impression on her yet.
I should check if I've got another cutie mark. One that volunteers me to strange and bizarre experiences, Lyra chuckled darkly as she double-checked whether she had closed the door behind her. Befitting the bad-luck-conga of her day, the door hadn't locked properly; she had to take a step backwards and then buck it with full force.
The brute force wasn't strictly necessary. It just felt really good.
The little mishap allowed a sentient blue mist to sneak inside at the very last moment, flowing through the rapidly disappearing crack between the door and the frame. While Snowy wasn't an intruder, the late arrival drew Lyra's ire all the same. She only had to forget about that darn windigo for a second and it would disappear to wreak havoc right away.
Thank Celestia she can't really interact with anypony else.
That went double when Lyra realized just how proper an owner she would need to be otherwise.
"Try to keep up with the pace, you lazy ghost!" she barked to the useless servant. She did not wait for a response; she limped onward and moved across the hall, deeper into the house. After her recent experiences, she had a strong desire for somepony supportive to talk to. "BON! I'M HOOOME! YOU HEAR ME?"
The call went unanswered.
"Where are you, you doof..." Lyra sighed at the disappointing, yet somehow predictable result. "You only went to buy some groceries... that really shouldn't take this long."
"Maybe miss Bon got held up," Snowy proposed, popping up next to her master without much warning. "Or maybe she fell into a bear-trap! Old Master always booked the expenses for laying the mountainside full of them. Kept the bears and funny invading forces away, he said."
"He was a real charming fellow, wasn't he?" Lyra sighed without batting an eye, her whole being completely nonchalant about that bit of trivia. She wasn't even surprised any more. Even being the first to arrive back home proved to be more interesting to her. Though after her windigo's mention of bear-traps, she managed to - inadvertently - picture Bon stepping into one of those awful metal contraptions...
The fur on her back sprang sky-wards and she broke into a shiver.
Thank Celestia I'm not the visual type. Uh, happy thoughts, happy thoughts...
"Oi, Snowy! No need to think of the worst right away!" she berated the ghost once she got her composure back properly.
"I am already adhering to that line of thought, Master!" Snowy made a quick salute. "I'm deliberately trying to mention the lesser dangers instead of something more lethal - such as spontaneous explosions. Something which ponies from this region seem to be awfully susceptible to..."
Still anchored in one place, Lyra twisted her head and gave the blue ghost a tired glare.
Where did your superstitions go all of a sudden? Why do you pick up on something like THAT in an instant? I had to drag you onto the train earlier, how are exploding ponies so much less ridiculous?!
Shutting her eyes and exhaling loudly, Lyra chalked up another line to her list of grievances.
"Please do me a favour and forget about the stupid things. You're a bother already," she groaned and hobbled towards the very end of the hall.
"Understood. Anything to make Master happy!" Snowy leapt next to her. Having been berated didn't seem to weigh heavily on the ghost; she appeared to exhibit a low-key cheerfulness as she took her place at her master's side. "That raises a question, though. Exactly which constitute as stupid from today's experiences?"
"All of them," Lyra snorted after a brief moment of thinking.
"Boooonnnnnnn!"
Head tilted slightly, Snowy observed the strange afternoon rituals of her master. The unicorn had settled into some sort of routine; she checked the fridge every few minutes, found it to be empty, went away, emitted guttural growling sounds without her mouth moving... then repeated the same procedure from the very beginning. A few complaints were sprinkled in randomly, usually centring on her absent friend and the foodstock she was supposed to return with.
"Musician needs food! Badly!" Lyra whined. She moved erratically, leaning to her side and rubbing along the kitchen wall as she pushed forward. The paint on the wall dragged her coat quite uncomfortably, but that still proved as one of the better ways to distract herself. And distractions she needed. The sensation of hunger just didn't want to leave her alone, and there was no suppressing it either; she couldn't bear to drink any more water. "Seriously! I'm starving here! BON, JUST WHERE THE HECK ARE YOU? Even I could have ran around the whole town by now... twice!"
"Maybe miss Bon got cornered by a pack of wolves," Snowy mused from the top of the oven. "They seemed like a vicious bunch. Old Master had a bunch of pelts that-"
The ghost shut up as soon as she noticed her master's glare focusing on her.
On account of her forced diet, Lyra's already irate mood took a pretty steep dive. The last thing she needed was the windigo becoming a strain on her nerves as well.
"But I am being positive!" Snowy cried out, replying to a chiding both she and her master knew would follow. "Compared to bear traps, a bunch of wild animals are certainly a favourable possibility!"
"You and I have wildly different understandings of 'positive'," Lyra groaned and dropped her head, her nose dangling a mere hoof from the floor. "Seriously, I- argh."
A rumbling sound filled the kitchen and cut the pony off, going as unexpectedly as it had come. Both she and her ghostly servant knew where it came from, the two pairs of eyes glued onto the musician's stomach.
"It may be timely for Master to revisit her stance on stale bread," Snowy raised her eyebrows.
"It may be timely for Master to revisit her stance on waiting for somepony who seems to take forever to come back!" Lyra grunted angrily, snapping her eyes from one bothersome thing to the other - from the windigo to the wall clock. Both were utterly unreasonable and annoyed her with great rates of success. "In fact, let's just do that! The market's open until nightfall, which gives us at least half an hour. Let's just quickly grab something to bite!"
Perched atop the stove, Snowy stirred. She became fiddly all of a sudden, limbs, ears and head all twitching as if giant needles were prodding her in the backside.
The change didn't go unnoticed by Lyra, who promptly gulped deeply. She did not like that sight. An excited Snowy meant that she would be trailed by a ghost who was even more difficult to keep in check... and exponentially raised the chances of getting her into trouble.
As far as ghostly servants went, Lyra really wished she was given a more passive one.
"I've never been to a market before!" Snowy hopped onto her hooves. She began to spin in circles, which was most likely a futile attempt at reigning in her excitement. "I've always heard the reports old Master got on how the latest fair went - but they never held any of those inside his tower, so I kind of missed out on them. Oh, this is going to be sooo exciting!"
Squinting at the ghost in disbelief, Lyra felt even more aggravated than before. Contagious as ever, the enthusiasm was sticking onto her as well; and she wanted none of it. Not at first anyway. It was an odd wish, but she wanted to feel cranky - so she could remain angry at Bon for making her wait even as she was starving, at Snowy for being her usual annoying self, at the world for ruining yet another day of her vacation. So she could get some semblance of revenge on somepony. Eventually.
She couldn't manage any of that, however. She simply wasn't that kind of a pony. Upbeat thoughts had always swayed her way too easily.
It was also really hard to be genuinely angry at a windigo who had never seen a proper market before. That was such a simple part of life; to be missing it... it was quite inconceivable to Lyra.
Me and my big heart, she exhaled slowly, the hot air ruffling the bit of her mane which dangled in front of her face. Being nice is really one of the worse curses to have, isn't it?
"I must confess: it's not quite what I expected it to be," Snowy scratched her head, scanning her environment left-to-right once again. She and her master were making their way through rows of empty stalls, the unpaved ground throwing up dust at each physical hoofstep. There were very few ponies around them, and none of them were selling anything either. The few merchants still around were already packing up shop at that point; the rest of the bystanders were either helping them or milling around aimlessly.
The place didn't have much to classify as a market. Maybe the skeleton of one - though barely, if even that.
"It's pretty late now," Lyra mumbled as quietly as she could manage; she really didn't want to be seen as a pony who held conversations with herself. "Let's hurry and find the few who are still selling something edible."
"But of course. I wouldn't want Master to suffer because of having me around," Snowy nodded in agreement and ran her eyes across the empty stalls hurriedly.
That was such a rare moment of self-awareness that Lyra almost doubted her ears.
This is why I really hate ponies like you, she smirked, her smile both fuelled and aimed at the pity she felt towards her own self. You always find ways of annoying me... but still manage to make me feel awful whenever I'd really start to be angry at you.
Moving her eyes in the cover of her mane, she sneaked a glance at the clueless windigo. The blue ghost took the whole 'find food' business quite seriously, scouting the emptying marketplace with the same determination she had demonstrated a few days ago, during their infiltration of the Dancing Lights.
The Dancing Lights...
That memory pushed a related fact back into the forefront of Lyra's conscious. No matter how she had tried to avoid thinking about it, she still owed her life to that annoying ghost. She knew she couldn't have made it out of that snowy hell just on her own.
Aaaah, she thought bittersweetly as she hobbled along with the ghost. Why couldn't somepony nicer save me? Like some prince charming or something.
Life wasn't fair.
"Don't sweat it too much," she sighed aloud, acting on her rush of empathy. "There are also bakeries around... if worst comes to the worst, I can get my munchies from there as well."
"Oh! That does make sense," Snowy raised her eyebrows, the idea clearly eluding her until it had been pointed out. "So... why not go there right away, if Master is sure they are open?"
"Stitches," Lyra giggled wryly, the saddlebags rocking against her side as she made a rougher step. She may have gotten better at moving on three, but that form of locomotion was still nowhere as comfortable as the regular four-hoof drive. "You saw how little walk this was - the market's practically right next door. I'd rather not walk too much more today."
"Oh... oh," Snowy looked away, the hint of embarrassment running through her ghostly visage. "Then I shall make sure our endeavour is met with success!"
The windigo's words hadn't died down by when she was already away; she sailed through the air with a graceful leap and landed on the empty frame of a stall. Snowy perched herself up there and rotated around, looking like an oversized blue bird that surveyed its environment for prey.
Lyra was expecting the thin wooden board to crack under the creature, but it withstood the impact without as much as a creak. She kept waiting for the disaster that never happened; it took her a few dozen seconds to reconcile the image with her expectations.
Of course, she smiled and shook her head once she had accepted what she saw. Snowy's a ghost; she has no weight. She could even sit on a waving flag, I guess.
Her gaze fixed on her ghostly servant, Lyra's smile rapidly turned sour. She felt really, utterly conflicted about the whole scene.
Is it normal to be envious of an ice monster?
She felt sure that it couldn't have been right, but there was no helping the feeling. Snowy had a plethora of skills and abilities she couldn't ever approach, no matter how hard she would try. She was just an ordinary unicorn, after all; one who bore all the limitations of a flesh-and-blood pony, not even mentioning those born out of her comfortable lifestyle.
Which led her to an unsettling question.
Why does a creature like that even need me around? What's the point of this whole game?
There were no sane reasons for that Source to bind such a powerful demon to her. Being out of the loop for a few centuries made Snowy seem a little loopy, yes; but that was hardly a fatal flaw. She had lost her touch a little, sure; but Lyra was sure the windigo would get around to boasting some awesome power yet. At the same time, what could she say about herself? She was and always would be a musician. She could maybe achieve her dream and finally succeed at playing Paganini on a lyre. Then all the ponies who really cared about lyres would applaud her.
All ten of them.
That hardly made justice for the 'contract' she and Snowy had. Such an imbalanced deal could only be some sort of a prank. A joke.
Or Snowy's getting punished for something, Lyra giggled to herself. She couldn't find the joke uplifting; even the tones leaving her lips felt bittersweet. Oi! Better stop thinking about this, girl... before you demolish what little self-confidence you have. Positive thoughts, remember? Positive thoughts!
"There's something interesting north-wards," Snowy yelled from her vantage point. "There's somepony with a stall who isn't packing up just yet. She's actually serving a customer, right now. Or... something like that. I guess?"
"As good as any of my guesses," Lyra shrugged and watched the windigo land back onto the ground. "Lead the way!"
"But of course, Master," Snowy nodded curtly, ears perked and head turned in the right direction. "I would hate to disappoint! I live to serve, after all. Would be really disheartening if I couldn't do that much."
As clearly shown by her grimace, that wasn't entirely the answer Lyra had been expecting.
I still don't get her! I mean, it's nothing new but... what's with that corny, evil-minion-style line? It's not like I'm some malevolent overlord, right? I hadn't ordered her to do anything crazy so far, right? Just why wouldn't a simple 'all right' do, then?
She couldn't even imagine what the answer might be. So she shook the useless weirdness out of her head and put herself into speed, zigzagging between the empty stalls as she hobbled after the windigo.
"...and Ah' keep tellin' ya' that's ain't NOTHING! Yer' clients are still way more flexible than me' boss."
Like a stereotypical vulture from a bad movie, Lyra sat down and eyed her prey from a distance. Snowy was proven correct: the stall was indeed open, and also had many apples to offer. It would have been perfect... were the owner not serving another customer that moment.
Lyra rubbed her sore shoulder and glared at the apple-stall with a weary glance. She simply wished to just buy some food and head back home already; but her terrible luck endured and complications delayed her progress. The owner of the stall - an orange farmmare - was engaged in a conversation with a customer. That was nothing special all right; but squinting at the customer, Lyra thought she recognized the white unicorn. She hadn't known the pony personally, but had seen her at the parties she had provided the music to. As far as Lyra knew, that unicorn was some sort of a diva-slash-couturier, and of the higher calibre to boot. She had been seen together with Princess Celestia herself, after all.
And I thought that only our weirdo librarian was privy to royalty. Didn't know Ponyville had so many celebrities wandering about, Lyra mused to herself as she settled in for a longer wait. She placed her hooves onto an empty stall, followed by putting her head to a rest on those hooves.
It's not like she was interested in overhearing what a farm-mare and a celebrity-designer had to discuss; she simply didn't want to be rude and interrupt them. No smart pony wanted to be in bad graces with those so close to the Princess.
"Ha! You try putting 'my clients' and 'flexible' on the same page - the paper would catch fire!" the white unicorn waved a hoof in the air. "Do you know what would happen if I missed a deadline? It would be the-"
"-worst thing ever, yea'. No need to bring yer' magical couch out just yet, sugarpie. Think Ah' managed to get yer' pattern down by now," the farm-mare adjusted her hat with a bored expression, pushing the rim upwards. "But anyway, Ah' don't think yer' clients would be more reasonable than nature itself. Ah' mean, have ya' ever tried to talk with them folks in the Major's office? They're so stingy 'bout the rain as if it weren't for free... don't seem to care how they be eatin' mah apples as well either."
"I can cede that officials such as Major Mare are a rather difficult assortment to negotiate with. However, there is a reason to their madness, dear; it is, in fact, a necessity. There are many contradictory needs even in a small place such as our Ponyville. Had you always had your way, a lot of other ponies would be disgruntled instead. As much as this place needs fabulous apples, we require other amenities as well. I couldn't imagine living without getting my regular beauty treatment for example," the white unicorn explained with her head turned to the side, her hoof running down her curly mane. "And trust me, rain is real bad for my mane - even for the short walk between the spa and my boutique. Thusly, the Major simply can't give everypony what they want. It's always a compromise."
Still far away on the sidelines, Lyra furrowed her eyebrows. She was wrecking her mind over at that choice of style. A curly indigo mane; that was a really rare sight. The more she had been looking at that pony, the surer she felt she had seen her before. She must have heard the name a few times, even.
C'me on brain, work! I can't just forget the names of important ponies if I want to work my way up. What was it...
"My clients, on the other hoof, are inflexible by choice. They are invariably of the higher class. They would have the means to pursue other venues of fulfilment; they simply rather not go through the trouble of doing so. They have a rigid adherence to their own dream-worlds," the white unicorn continued even as she brought a strand of her indigo mane to her face, examining it closely. "Now, don't get me wrong AJ; I do sympathize with you. However, as far as I am concerned, my clients are much more aggravating. Simply because they are aggravating for no fathomable reason. That is truly the worst, stressing me by their own choice!"
Were she not resting her head on her hooves, Lyra would have found herself nodding to that. She had enough first hoof experiences with some nobles' unreasonable requests, to put it lightly.
"Aww. My heart's breakin' into two right 'ere on this very spot, Rares!" AJ giggled. She also struggled visibly, hiding a full-blown laughter at bay. "So do tell me one thing... did them fancy evil clients of yers' ever make ya' do somethin' real risky?"
Rares? Lyra perked her ears for a moment, then let them drop back as embarrassment overtook her short-lived ecstasy. Ah, right. So that's Rarity. Gee, no wonder I'm still stuck with lousy second-rate jobs. I should really pay more attention to these details...
"Master knows those two?" Snowy caught the sudden shifts in Lyra's expression.
"One of them," Lyra whispered into her hooves. "It's kind of a one-way relationship, though. Like looking up at a mountain-top... you see it's up there, but it won't ever care about you, ha."
"Old Master would surely label Master as defeatist for that!" Snowy sighed with a tone dripping of nostalgia. "Though now that I think about it, old Master also had lieges to serve... so he had his own mountain tops to look at, in a way."
"There's always a larger fish," Lyra remarked sourly. She had always wanted to be in the cosy position where she didn't have to work on working her way up any longer; but years of attending to fancy parties made her wonder if such a spot truly existed.
"Risky? Dear AJ, I risk my life every single day!" Rarity stopped caring about her mane long enough to make a belittling wave. "Or have you forgotten the time I got captured by diamond dogs? Those are the lengths I have to go in order to satisfy my customers!"
"Oh, Ah' haven't forgotten. Ah' still remember findin' ya' bossin' those no-gooders around!" AJ grimaced. Her eyebrows formed a perfectly flat line, parallel with the rim of her hat. "But anyway, that was a risk ya' took yerself. With the bits yer' making, ya' could really afford buyin' yer' ingredients instead of goin' out there yerself. Since ya' were givin me' a lecture 'bout it just now, Ah' think Ah' can say it openly. That's yer' choice, Rares. Yer' nobles' ain't askin' ya' to go out there and put yer' neck at risk."
"I don't really see what you're getting at," Rarity giggled softly, her eyelashes fluttering as they signalled her confusion.
"Ya' could have gone about that in other ways. Ya've got that kinda' freedom!" AJ smacked herself in the face. She started looking quite frustrated at the steadfast rebuttal she was facing. "Ah' don't! All me options are 'bout these two: makin' more apples or not makin' more apples. Only the latter ain't even an option any more!"
"Yes, because the mortgage on the Sweet Apple Acres is absolutely THE thing motivating you," Rarity hid her giggle with her hoof. It was a nice gesture - one rendered absolutely moot by her decidedly sarcastic grin. "You're certainly not sticking to your business because you're an apple-nut."
"Guilty as charged," AJ pulled her nose high, apparently finding great pride in the accusation. "Few ponies would be as mad as to take 'em loans onto their homes... just so they could buy more of 'em apple trees, hehe."
Lyra didn't really get much of the conversation; most of those words went way above her head. She only understood that her shopping would need to wait until the discussion was over.
Would you two just wrap it up already?
It was only a waste of her time. She didn't even get to feel entertained! Quite the opposite, in fact; she yawned deeply and rolled her head to the side. Even the move wasn't as comfortable as she had hoped it would be. She started to itch, the fur covering her face and legs rubbing against each other.
Oh for the! Six hours until midnight, six hours until midnight...
"Ha! So some things do remain constant through ages," Snowy giggled and mimicked her master, placing her head onto the empty stall as well.
That comment wasn't interesting enough to elicit any spoken words from Lyra; it was just barely hitting the level where she raised an eyebrow and gave a questioning stare.
"Financials! Financials were the root of all evil in the world - and they seem to poison society even today," Snowy went into her - rarely demonstrated - academic mode. "Well, that was what old Master kept saying all the time. According to the thick tomes and the accountants of his, none of his property really belonged to him... or his heirs. That frustrated him to no end. Actually, he hated banks even more than my kind. That's what he always claimed anyway. I did think that was nice of him, trying to cheer me up like that."
I'm pretty sure he was just ranking you as the second worst thing in his life, Lyra snickered, but opted not to speak her mind. She certainly wasn't feeling like correcting one of the better misconceptions of her ghostly servant. Happy delusions were happy things first and foremost - even if also delusions at the same time.
"I wonder if there was anything your old master liked," she sighed, going with whatever else came first to her mind. "How did you arrive to that topic, though? From apples, no less..."
"Oh, apples I have no stake in. But I couldn't help but notice how those two over there were talking about mortgage and the likes," Snowy motioned at the two squabbling ponies. "An oddly familiar topic to my ears. It might be the very first thing I recognize as proper in Master's strange new world, actually!"
"Eh, same question. What does mortgage have to do with financials?" Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows. She had no idea what a 'mortgage' was; but by the sounds of it, her bet was on it being cheese. Cheeses always had those funny names. Like gorgonzola. Or raclette. Mortgage would certainly have fit that line well.
"I'm glad Master asked! They are pretty closely related, actually. I managed to pick up a lot on that from old Master's tirades-" Snowy purred contently, her gaze vacant as she stared into her past memories instead of the outside world; but she never got to really telling the tale of hers.
Loud yells drew both the windigo's and her master's attention; the argument between the fashion designer and the apple farmer started picking up steam... and decibels.
"Apple trees don't even talk! And even if they could, they would be real easy to take care of! They only need sunlight and water!" Rarity yanked her head to the side. It wasn't simply a case of looking away, that was for certain; she managed to put a lot of indignation into such a simple move.
"Truly spoken by somepony who's ain't got the faintest about farming!" AJ snorted loudly and turned the other way as well. "Lemme' be the first one to let ya' know, sugarpie: them apple trees are way more delicate than those hoity-toity ponies. Ya' ain't got no idea how much effort and bits I need every year just to prepare for season, have ya' now?"
"Less than what a single set of my dresses cost - unless you bury diamonds among those roots every year, dear!" Rarity cracked an eye open to give the other pony a piercing glare. "Last year I had to borrow from one of my kinder clients just so I could adequately prepare for an order of capes!"
"Bwahaha! Is that s'posed to be something? Ah' could swear only one of us got mortgage on their everything!" AJ burst into a hollering laughter. "C'me on, out with it! Admit it! This be my win - yer' in a checkmate!"
"Not so fast, dear! I can cede I'm a little better off in terms of liquid assets, but you simply can't compare the stress that comes with your work and mine!" Rarity grinned evilly. She had a cunning plan for her comeback; it was obvious to anypony within a mile's distance. A simple look at her face could tell that much. "There's a reason why books always cite the farmlands as getaway spots - and never the boutiques of fashion designers."
"Only because them writers are fancy city-ponies to the bone and ain't got no idea what an actual farm's like," AJ retorted. She only shrugged, but her voice made it clear just how hurt she was. "Bein' on a farm is hard job, Rares... and ain't a fancy job like yours, either. Pullin' a loaded cart just ain't got the same feeling like pulling a needle."
"Yes, because the apples on your cart always keep screaming into your ears about your deadlines!" Rarity spun around and grabbed the farm-mare with the same fluid motion. "I swear it's driving me crazy, you hear me? They change their orders and the deadlines on complete whims and act as if I had agreed to go along with them! I mean, I would agree anyway because I don't have a choice other than agreeing or going out of business and living as a homeless nopony until the end of my days... but that doesn't mean I don't WANT to agree before I get told that I had agreed! But no, I only just get told how I need to restart from scratch two days before schedule just because the newest magazine favoured a different trend!"
"Well, missing one batch'd hardly drive ya' to poverty, rite'?" AJ scratched her head, pushing her hat backwards in the process.
"Au contraire! In my clientele, opinions spread like raging wildfires - one single bad word of me could get me completely undone!" Rarity stammered and struck a pained pose. "Every day is all or nothing to me, every deadline either a step upwards or a plummet to nothingness!"
Sitting silently at the empty stall, Lyra couldn't shake the awkward feeling of how she was watching two ponies argue over who had it worse. Yet neither of the two had thirty-something stitches in their side or had a ghost trailing them. During certain moments she even had an urge to get up and claim victory for herself.
Then she remembered how only she could possibly see Snowy, and she gave the whole thing a rest. She was in no mood for a protracted argument anyway. She only wanted some of those apples and then she was good as gone home, sleeping in her bed with her tummy full.
To think that cosy, well-fed sleep was just a stupid conversation away from her.
Maybe I should just interrupt them, she rubbed her legs with her chin. Her stomach began rumbling, too.
"Uh... Master?"
"What," Lyra groaned, her voice made hollow and low-toned by her generic exhaustion. "Snowy, I'm not in the mood for-"
Her sole luck was that she turned to the ghost as she spoke. That way she spotted the stocky red stallion that had arrived next to them.
"It would appear we have company," Snowy raised her head and pointed at the newcomer. "Master, I think it would be prudent to remind the good sir that the queue begins behind us. We have certainly waited long enough to earn our spot as the immediate next customer."
"Yea... yeah. Queue," Lyra chirped with a nervous giggle - once she was done gulping, that is.
She easily recognized that stallion from before. The cart behind him as well.
Argh! Why is the cheerfully-run-you-over bloke also as silent as a ninja?
"You... you don't feel like running me over again, right?"
The red stallion kept silent, but signalled his displeasure at the suggestion with a generous frown.
For some reason, Lyra felt quite unnerved by such a stoic presence. Even if he didn't seem too intent on grinding her into the ground again.
"R- right," she giggled on and sprang to her hooves. "Shopping time...!"
Oh Celestia, this day is absolutely nuts.
"So ya' wanted to buy somethin'? And ya' waited on us to finish? Aww sugarpie, that's some silly thing to do!" Applejack patted Lyra on the head. "Ah' did see ya' over there, but then ya' took a seat and started watchin'. So Ah' reckoned ya' might just be waiting fer' somepony else. Ya' looked real comfortable and all that... didn't seem to have any itch to drag yerself' over here for a few of me fine apples."
Lyra puffed in silence. She felt as if she were a filly getting lectured by her mom; and just like when it happened with her real mom, the whole scene felt belittling and condescending to her.
That her own stupid idea put her into the situation didn't help with the awkwardness whatsoever.
"Half a dozen apples, coming up! You might want to brace a little, dear," Rarity warned from behind, the unicorn dragging a bunch of apples in the air with crafty use of her magic.
Lyra blushed and immediately forgot about her sour thoughts. That she would be served by a pony of such high standing; she almost expected having to pay extra for the privilege. If only she could make some lasting impression somehow! Surely scoring a few points with a pony privy to Celestia's inner circle would go long ways in boosting her social standing.
It was hard to impress somepony when she was found 'eavesdropping' on a semi-private discussion, though. Standing like a dumb rock and smiling like an imbecile seemed like the most she could get out of the deal at that point.
"Brace? What for?" Applejack tugged on her hat. "Ah' know yer' city folks ain't used to physical work much... but what the hay, Rare- sorry, Rarity? We're only talkin' 'bout two dozen of them apples. Even a breezie could drag that much."
"Only if that breezie hailed from the Apple family!" Rarity winked slyly. The subtle praise was not lost on AJ, who pulled on the brim of her hat until it completely hid her eyes.
The heck is a breezie, Lyra blinked in confusion. She refused to let up on her stupid smile, though - just as she had not yet given up on achieving her good impression either.
"I'm not talking about her fortitude anyhow. I was trying to subtly draw your attention to this," Rarity carried on and moved to Lyra's right side, the cluster of floating apples gently bumping against the musician's white bandages.
Real subtle indeed, Lyra smiled unabated. Despite the odds, she managed to reign herself in; only her eyebrows twitched a little. She really needed to appear calm. That was her chance to make a good impression!
"Nah! I'm fine, ahaha!" she cackled. Her voice was loud, further enhanced by a calculated little amount of boastfulness. "It's just a flesh wound!"
"Hmm. Now that ya' mention it, she was limpin' earlier," Applejack hummed to herself. "Well shoot. Now Ah' feel all kindsa' stupid! How did Ah' ever miss those bandages?"
"At least now I know you're not ignoring my dressed on purpose," a sigh escaped Rarity's lips. "Oh dear, it's so hard to be a fashion designer around these parts..."
Having been ignored on the matter as completely as possible, Lyra kept her outwardly smile but went into a complete blackout inside. She stuck to her only line and repeated it like a broken gramophone.
"Tis' but a scratch..."
"Always told ya' to put more apples in 'em. Gets them folks' heads workin' way better than diamonds," Applejack mused to somepony. More than likely herself, as Rarity would have never listened to such a suggestion. "What to do with this 'ere pony, I wonder..."
"We could just escort her home," Rarity shrugged, her indigo curls bouncing up and down at the motion. "You were readying to leave before I held you up, right? Might as well pack up and drop her off at her place."
"But I'm fine, really!" Lyra cried out. Her brain was lagging a little behind her mouth though, so she changed her stance a split-second later. "...is what I would say, but I do feel a little funny. I mean... ow?"
She had no shame about that. Walking on three was a tiresome effort; so hitching a free ride home did sound like a really nice deal. Not to mention it meant going along with the idea of the famous couturier, the pony who could have conversations with Celestia herself.
Surely that amounted to something. Even a passing mention would have been good enough, as far as Lyra was concerned.
"Oh dear! See, she's limping even now!" Rarity threw the apples away and grabbed the suddenly collapsing Lyra with her magic. "I'm beyond such mundane emotions, but I must say that I was right."
"Well 'scuse me for being used to being a sturdy pony," Applejack huffed. Her irritation didn't last long; she went into a thoughtful hum after a few breaths. "Can't say Ah' fancy the idea of walkin' her home, though. Unless Cellie' decides to do good old me a favour and stops the sun mid-set, it's gonna' be dark by the time Ah' can pack everythin' up. Can't say Ah'd fancy that much."
Cellie? Lyra sneaked a glance at the farm-mare. That sounded like an awfully informal way to treat the almighty princess of Equestria. Then again, that was coming from a pony who causally referred to Rarity as 'sugarpie'.
I swear everypony I meet today is crazy, Lyra concluded and felt a tinge of self-pity swell in her. Or maybe it's just me having gone nuts. Nah... I'm sure I'm the only sane pony today. That's gotta' be it.
"Can't say I fault that logic of yours. Packing in the dark is absolutely below class," Rarity made a curb nod and held a hoof to her muzzle. She moved her gaze around the deserted market - and found her solution, evidenced by the smug grin widening on her face. "Say, would you by chance need the cart right away to start packing?"
"The cart?" Applejack raised an eyebrow. She turned to the cart, but she seemed to not get the reference at first. The idea did click with her - but only after several seconds had passed. "OOOH! Ah' geddit. Sure, Ah' can do without that cart for a while. Need to finish boxin' them leftover apples first anyway."
Alternating her gaze between the two ponies, Lyra had a bad feeling about that plan.
"Ey! Big Mac! Could you drop this 'ere lady back to her home?"
Lyra jumped as if she had been pinched. She was still dangling mid-air however, courtesy of Rarity's magic; so she remained firmly in her place, her legs only kicking the empty air.
No-no! No-no-no! she gulped once she realized she was not getting out of her predicament easily. I know that bloke and his cart all too well! I've had a real close look at them already!
"Tha- thanks for the offer! But I think I'm- ah, I'm walking home!" she stuttered hastily. She figured her words would be to little avail, but she couldn't just idly stand by and get loaded onto that thing. "I'm fine, haha! He-heey, aren't you two listening to me? I just said I'm fine..."
"Ponies in bandages should lay in bed and stay quiet," Applejack gave Lyra all the answers she needed to know. AJ didn't waste any more time on her injured customer either; she turned to the red stallion that showed up out of nowhere again. "Big Mac, Ah'm gonna' need ya' to take her home. Make it real quick, will ya'? Ah'd rather be home by nightfall, so clock's a-tickin'. Ah' kinda' promised 'Bloom that Ah'd help her with some homework and all that."
"Eyup," the red stallion nodded.
Lyra eyed him fearfully all the same. The sole word did little to break that colt's creepily stoic character. Not that a chatty pony would've been much better. Not with the whole 'having tried to iron Lyra out with the help of an apple-loaded cart' factored in as well.
She knew a lost battle when she saw one. She gave up and went limp, dropping onto the cart like a cheap doll. She didn't move even when Snowy hopped right next to her; the windigo poking her with a muzzle, checking if she was still alive.
Lyra felt done for. She couldn't help but find the whole disaster to be perfectly in line with her earlier experiences, though. Which was, in a lot of ways, the most telling and depressing part of her day.
I knew I should have just stayed home and in bed.