The sun rose on the Crystal Empire, though it looked a little shaky. Painted Palette frowned as he watched it. It lacked the normal grace of Celestia’s sun...hell, it lacked the grace of a drunken Parasprite.
Wondering if his newest freeloader was awake, he trudged out of his room and into the kitchen.
“You up kid?” he asked, his voice a bit dry from not having slept. He was greeted with a mug of coffee being shoved into his face, in a familiar magical aura.
"Your coffee, and I'm working on breakfast. You like eggs?" she asked from in front of the range.
The stallion blinked as his sleep-addled mind comprehended this. Several conclusions were reached and were promptly banished to the deepest parts of the Crystal Mines.
“Thanks,” he said in a barely comprehensible mutter as he took the mug. He took a seat at the table and sipped at it, hissing when it scalded his tongue. “Gah! Hot!”
"Only just made it," she commented as she turned back to the frying pan she had found. "Might I suggest an ice cube or two if you simply must drink it now?"
“S’fine, and eggs are fine,” he replied as he lay his head on the table. “Dammit...need sleep...”
The mare paused before cracking any eggs in the pan. "Do you mean to suggest... That you stayed up all night?" Her tone had turned just as icy as the wastes outside the shield. His ear flicked as he lifted his head slightly.
“Insomnia...happens from time to time.”
"I see," she replied before cracking a few eggs in the pan. "Have you tried looking into controlling it? Going without sleep isn't really healthy... Like most of your life decisions. The only difference is, I don't blame you for this one."
“Doesn’t happen often, so I never bothered,” Damn those eggs smelled good. Maybe having a mare around wasn’t... He just snorted and continued to lay on the table. His eye caught the painting she’d done last night and a small smile worked it’s way onto his face.
"So how long will it be before you'll be able to sleep again?" Critical put a little shredded cheese into the pan, along with some salt and pepper.
“Eh, I’ll nap later,” he said. He could have slept now really, but there was no way he was missing on that breakfast she was making. “Didn’t pick you for a morning pony kid.”
"My brother and I are total opposites in some areas. He loves to read, I enjoy my art. I get up early every day, he stays up and burns the midnight oil whenever nopony is around to stop him. Fortunately, we can both cook." And this set was done, plate and serve to grumpy stallion.
Said grumpy stallion looked at the meal, it was a damn sight better than anything he could hope to cook. “Thanks for the food,” he said. Though he didn’t eat yet. He was waiting for her first.
"You're welcome, mine will be a minute, so feel free to start if you want," she said before turning back to the range. Sort of the downside of only having one frying pan.
“If you insist,” he said as he picked up a fork with his hoof and dug in. His eyes widened slightly as he chewed slowly.
“I think that painting isn’t the only thing you have a talent for.”
"We were all taught to be somewhat self sufficient, part of that was cooking lessons. My bigger brother and I took to them really well. My little brothers are fighting it, but they are still able to make simple things." She flipped the eggs in the pan to make sure they were done on both sides. "It's been a little while since I actually cooked though. Mostly I prepared little snacks for my gatherings. It's nice to put my lessons to use again."
“I should show you the art of cheese and wine at sunset,” he hummed as he ate. “It’s a fine way to end a day.”
"Perhaps one day," the disguised nymph replied. Just a little longer and- done! She turned the heat off, plated her own set, and joined her host at the table.
He observed the mare out of the corner of his eye. The way her eyes moved, her ears giving the occasional slight twitch. Even as he ate, he was committing these details to memory. She eventually noticed him staring, but took it the completely wrong way.
"What? Is there something on my face?"
He blinked, he wasn’t expecting to be caught, but fate held out a helping hoof as he touched his cheek, indicating to a few crumbs on her own. She gently brushed them away before smiling warmly at her host.
"Aww, thank you! Such a thoughtful stallion~"
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. What the hay was he doing, staring at a mare half his damned age. “So what’s your plan to meddle in my life today?”
"After breakfast, you're going to get some sleep. Meanwhile, I'm going to perform some basic house maintenance, such as cleaning. We'll go from there when you wake up."
Palette grunted as he finished his breakfast and sighed. “You don’t have to clean my house...but I’m learning that arguing with you is a lost cause.”
"An intelligent stallion as well," Critical commented before eating a bite of her own eggs. Once the bite was gone, she winked at him. "Don't you worry, the house will be spic and span before you know it!"
“Fine, just stay out of my room...I’d hate to think what you’d do around me in my sleep.” he got up as a few joints cracked. He’d spent far too long sitting still. He motioned to the room that held most of his paintings. “And stay out of that room over there. I mean it kid!”
"Can do," she all but chirped at him. And then her gaze went sultry again. "And are you sure you don't want me around when you're in your bedroom?" Her response came with the sound of a door closing and locking behind him...
"Ah well, maybe one day," she chuckled to herself. Breakfast done, she had another task in front of her.
This house... Needed to be cleansed.
Celestia looked rather chipper today. Brass was on his way after he’d performed his ‘royal duties’. He still had his own work to attend to after all. But he certainly earned his name, that much was a given.
But now what to do with her newest problem-child?
Well, she’d solve this the way she solved a lot of problems.
She stared down at the green-haired mare from her throne. Her steeled gaze not flinching in the slightest. “So, your grandfather has left you here, as I seem to be the one that will decide your punishment.” Her neutral expression tilted towards a smile. “Tell me Chryssie. Are you a gambling mare?”
"After last night playing with your sister and her stallion, I'm rethinking my original pose on the idea," the would-be queen grumbled.
“Do I really want to know what you were playing?” Celestia raised an eyebrow. Chryssie just grumbled a little.
"Not important. Where were you going with this idea?"
“Oh, well I was feeling a little playful, but it seems you haven’t had coffee yet. Is it just me? Or would the entire Changeling race have died out by now if it wasn’t for that stuff?”
"I dread to imagine what might happen if you weren't a morning mare," Chrysalis sniped back.
“The night. Shall last. FOREVER!!” A voice called out from somewhere. “....Or at least an hour or so longer!”
Celestia fought the urge to facehoof and looked at Chrysalis. “Yes, well, anyway. I have decided on what punishment you shall receive.”
"What's it gonna be? Blast me with your pet rocks? Lock me in the dungeons?" The queen took a sip of her coffee that had been so graciously provided before her tone turned sarcastic. "Or maybe both?! Blast me and then lock me up?"
Celestia floated out about a half dozen small stones. “Aw, how did you guess?” She flung one stone as it shot off at blinding speed, embedding itself in a nearby marble pillar.
"...You're kidding. You're kidding, right?" Chrysalis couldn't look away from the pillar.
“Well. if you don’t like that option, I have another that might not add any more holes in your chitin.”
The Changeling nymph rapidly nodded her assent to the idea without even bothering to ask what it was.
“Excellent! I’ll have a carriage prepared immediately,” Celestia beamed brighter than her sun as she called her assistant Raven. “Twilight is going to love having you over.”
It was only then Chrysalis realized what she had signed up for, and began swearing profusely and interchangeably between Equestrian and Changeish.
“Um Highness?” Raven queried as she watched the raving mare. “Is she...okay?”
“Oh yes, this is a foreign delegate, who I am sending to see Twilight. She’s just...happy.”
“I will tear out your-” the rest of her spiel was cut of via Tia’s magic. The Alicorn smiled and nodded.
“Yes, quite happy.”
Critical had finished dusting in the living room, something Palette apparently never did. The disguised nymph then moved back into the kitchen, to better organize his cabinets and drawers. If there was one thing this house was going to be besides clean, it was organized.
Sadly, some of the larger, more involved messes would have to wait until she found his cleaning supplies. Something she was starting to doubt he had, but hope springs eternal. Perhaps somewhere in here she would find something along the lines of a bar of soap outside of the bathroom.
Speaking of, that was going to be her next stop, when she worked up the stomach for it. When she eventually swallowed her fears and stepped inside, she discovered that it was actually surprisingly clean. Well, small miracles seemed to be the flavour of the day today.
It had modern plumbing and whatnot, such as a bath and working shower. And a bucket of cleaning supplies sat in one corner, but they were covered in the dust of ‘never-used’. It was also a little odd, that the architecture of the bathroom didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the home...
Deciding to take it as it came, Critical closed the door for a moment of privacy and dropped her illusion. More than a little mess had clung to her form, so she did the prudent thing. The next thing in this house that was getting clean was her.
The bath was quite large, but some inspection showed not a single blemish. No hoof scuffs, or marks left by the water. This tub had never been used, so she figured he just used the shower. A shame really, it was a nice bath.
Deciding not to waste too much time, she opted for a quick shower and after taking a moment to work out which knob was the hot water one, she was humming a small tune as she bathed.
****
Painted Palette’s door clicked open as the stallion stepped out, stretching his legs and yawning. That dream had been...weird.
He mumbled something and stumbled towards the bathroom, he really needed to take a leak. He nudged the door opened and stepped inside. It felt nice and warm in here for some reason, and he stepped towards the destination of his quest, his eyes still closed in the half-asleep state he was in.
That was about when he heard the scream. The very high, very shrill scream. He put a hoof to his ear and winced.
“Ow, what the...buck...” It took him a second to realise where he was and who else was in there. He squeezed his eyes shut and bolted from the room, slamming the door behind him.
"...I'll be done in a minute," the voice of Critical said from beyond the door, sounding sheepish for once. "Cleaning up your house is hazardous work. I can hardly do a good job if I'm messy myself."
“Sorry...I didn’t mean to...” Why was he blushing so hard? He didn’t even see anything. And the only difference in her appearance was that she was wet instead of dry... No, bad mental images! He just thunked his head against the table a few times and pulled out some parchment and a piece of charcoal. Yeah, a nice quick sketch would calm him down.
....He ended up sketching her.
Dammit!
She eventually emerged from within his bathroom, a towel wrapped around her head to hold her wet mane up. Her tail had no such adornment. "Bathroom is free, and I am going to quickly see to my mane."
“Yeah, sure thanks,” he mumbled as he made a hasty retreat to the bathroom, forgetting about his little sketch on the table. It was a simple charcoal portrait of Critical, but it had a surprising amount of detail, especially the eyes. It was almost like looking in a mirror that was stuck on a monotone colour setting.
She found it rather endearing, and picked it up with her magic to better observe the detail he had put into it. She was so entranced she completely forgot about doing her mane. Palette eventually returned, his regain composure falling away when he saw what she was looking at.
“What are you doing?” he asked gruffly. “That ain’t even worth looking at.”
"I disagree," she returned. "You can't have had longer than 3 minutes to sketch this, but the amount of detail in here is stunning. On the whole I'd say this is rather flattering, but that's bordering on narcissism."
“Yeah, cause you’ve been really modest up until now,” he snarked back at her. And it was true really, it was far from his best work, just a simple sketch. “Whatever. Keep it if you want.”
"My brother is the one that keeps and records everything... But on the whole I rather like it. I think I will, thank you, it'll probably help me remember you when you finally get fed up with me and kick me out."
He paused mid-step. He could, couldn’t he? Just kick her out. She was trespassing and he could just throw the kid out on her rump and get back to his life.
His simple, boring, quiet life...
“You haven’t pissed me off that much yet,” he muttered as he put on a pot of coffee. She beamed at him happily before untying the towel wrapped around her head, letting her mane flow free. The stallion's breath hitched and that small blip of lust that flowed out was hard to miss.
As was his yelp when he spilled hot-coffee on himself.
Critical's first thought was to his well-being, so she rushed into the kitchen to help him with the small problem that had arisen. "Are you okay? Do you need any help or burn ointment?"
“I’m fine,” he grumbled, dabbing at his chest with a damp cloth. Stupid, sexy mare....
"If you're sure," she replied, not sounding convinced in the slightest. "So I was thinking, now that you're awake and not in there, I'll clean up your bedroom next."
The stallion winced and fixed his trademark scowl on her. “No, you’re not going in there. Ever. Got that?”
"You say that now, but wait until you see what I did to the kitchen... And the living room. Give me half an hour with the cleaning supplies I found, and the rest of the house will be nice and clean too. Then tell me you don't want me go in certain areas and I'll believe you." If smug could be distilled into one expression, that mare was wearing it.
“You could have turned this place into the Royal Palace,” he said as he looked in the kitchen. It was a lot cleaner than before. Just like when his...
“Stay out of my room!” he said, slightly harsher than he might have meant to as he walked back into said room and slammed the door.
Critical sighed as she walked back into the bathroom to retrieve the supplies she had uncovered. She had a lot of work to do... In more than one sense.
It was about an hour or so before the stallion eventually returned. He’d acted liked a damned fool. She upset him, through no fault of her own and he’d thrown a temper tantrum like a foal. She didn’t deserve that.
He stopped as he looked around his home, it was like a completely different building. Everything was neat and tidy, organised...
Not an artists home, that’s for sure.
“Now where is that kid?” he muttered, looking around. The most delicate of snores caught his attention. Another one helped him pinpoint it, it was coming from his living room. When he finally got there to investigate it, the expected scene of the mare curled up on his couch, napping away the afternoon after all of her hard work met his eyes. He gave an amused snort as he looked at her. She really was quite pretty.
“Bah, and like she’d be interested in an old grump like me,” he muttered. Well, there wasn’t much he could do while she slept...except maybe tidy that room up. He trudged over to his storeroom and stepped inside, lighting the candles and filling the rarely used room with a gentle glow. There were stacks of paintings everywhere, as well as two large ones hung on the far wall, both covered with a heavy cloth. He just stopped and stared at those paintings...the one on the left, was his life...
The one on the right, was the one that took that life away.
He frowned again as he took the feather duster and went to work.
Critical yawned as she woke up. When she noticed the time, she realized her short nap on the couch had become something more of a two hour affair.
On the bright side though, this was the perfect time for tea. She ambled into the kitchen and set a pot of water to boil, while she looked around for the tea blends. She wasn't sure what a stallion was doing with tea blends, but she had noticed one she'd been meaning to try. It sounded local, which to her meant foreign and exciting. And her brother wasn't the only one up for new experiences.
By the time she had made small snack sized sandwiches to go with the tea, the water was boiling. She took it off and waited a moment before pouring into teapot she had, again, found. She was rapidly coming to a conclusion about this house...and its inhabitant. One she was ashamed about, both in her exploiting of it, and in the length of time it took for her to reach it.
Painted Palette finally emerged from the dusty room, coughing lightly as he looked around, noticing the now bare couch.
“Hey kid? You still here?”
"In here," she called from the dining room as she set the tea to steep. He walked in, noticing that she’d prepared lunch as well.
“You got a minute?” he asked. “I want...your opinion on something.”
"Certainly," she said before gesturing for him to sit down. "Take a load off, tell me what's on your mind."
“No, I want to show you something,” he said and turned, heading back to the store room. Curious, she followed him and once she was inside, he motioned to the two covered paintings.
“First, I want to apologise for earlier. I acted like a spoiled colt and you didn’t deserve that. So, sorry.”
"Forgiven!" she all but chirped at him. "Second? Where there's a one there's usually a two."
He nodded as he reached for the cloth covering the painting on the right, and after a moment's hesitation and a sharp breath, he yanked it down, a cloud of dust obscuring the painting at first.
Then the unmistakable glare of the late King Sombra could be seen adorning the wall. It was...well it was certainly something. If one didn’t know the stallion, then the painting could easily be mistaken for a portrait of a royal unicorn. While the painting portrayed a visage of regality and an indomitable will. It didn’t show him to be the evil monster that he truly was.
"My word," she breathed. "This is... Quite the portrait. After hearing the tales, though, I feel as though I should ask if you did this of your own will or not."
“No, he commissioned me to paint this, as he did with every other artist in the city,” he stared at the piece with an odd look. His emotions were a mix of reverence, anger...and great sadness.
He walked over to the other painting and removed it’s cloth, though he was far more delicate with this one. It was another portrait, that held just as much detail and love, though the subject was vastly different.
It was of a beautiful mare and a young colt. The mare had the purest white coat and sapphire blue eyes. Her mane was a rich chocolate brown and her Cutie Mark was a pink water lily. The colt had the same orange coat as his father, while his mane and eyes matched his mother. His flank was bare though.
"Are these?" Critical breathed. It couldn't be this bad, this situation she'd walked into couldn't be...Even Sombra had some limits...right? She expected the mare, but the colt too?!
“Pure Lily and Golden Fall, my wife and child...well, they were,” he said, his gruff voice cracking slightly. Just looking at piece hurt, it hurt so damn much. “I can tell you their story, if you want to.”
"I think I can guess," Critical set as she looked at the other painting in the room. "I'm guessing he had something to do with it... Probably involving that picture in the first place."
“You’re right, for the most part,” he said, burying his feelings for now. “It was a few years ago...well, a little more than a thousand for you I suppose. Sombra commissioned every artist in the city, whether they wanted to or not, to paint his portrait. The successful one would be given a life of opulence, free of slavery. I couldn’t care about that, but for my family? I’d would've done anything.” He paused here and shuddered.
"But anything wasn't enough, was it?" Critical softly questioned. "All this time, having me around must have..."
“No, it wasn’t enough,” he said. “It wasn’t imposing enough. It wasn’t regal enough. It wasn’t good enough for him!!” The stallion panted from his little outburst as he calmed down. “A few days later? My son died in the Crystal Mines... a cave in they said. I didn’t believe it then, I don’t now.”
"I don't blame you, those are very easy to set off or stage, especially with magic," the mare said before pursing her lips as though she just sucked on a lemon. "I'm not helping, am I?"
“It’s fine, I’m learning to ignore you,” he said with a slight smirk. “But Lily...” He sighed as he placed a hoof against the canvas. “Sombra demanded his Right with her...and she accepted.”
"I don't think I want to hear the rest... But if I don't, I know I'm going to wonder forever, even though the result is plainly obvious." He had her full attention.
“She was a surgeon, one of the finest in the Empire,” he smiled. “She had saved many lives...but losing our son, it...broke her. And then Sombra made his demand.”
"... Something tells me she had a plan when she accepted... One that didn't work out." Critical may have been a green, but she was no slower at picking up the puzzle pieces left lying around than any of her kin.
“As I said, she was the best surgeon...she was quick with a blade...” he sighed as he looked at the paintings. “His magic was quicker...”
"And having me, a magic-wielding mare in your house..." Critical trailed off before heaving a sigh. "I'll pack up and be out of your mane after lunch. I can't see how you could want me around."
“Don’t be stupid, damned kid,” Palette snapped at her. “You think I’d be so biased towards a tool? Get that fool idea out of you head.”
“I'm both a younger mare, and somepony who relies on magic in their day-to-day activities. I don't see how anything I do endears me to you, considering how the last thing you probably want around is a mare wielding the same thing that killed your wife, and one who..." here she actually blushed before looking away.
The stallion sighed again and motioned for her to follow. “I have one more to show you, but...you have to promise not to laugh.”
"I can only promise to make the very best effort not to," she replied after she got her blush under control. He made a note of that as well, her blush was adorable. He led her into his bedroom and a thought occured.
“Heh, looks like you finally got me in my bedroom with you.”
"Were it under other circumstances, I'd be joking right about now, something about what your intentions could be. As it stands, I'm simply curious." Her very expression seemed to radiate intrigue as she followed along.
Once they were there, she noticed the complete state of chaos the room was in. The floor itself was barely visible, the curtains were drawn and the room was only lit by candlelight.
"If not for the fact it would be highly intrusive, I would offer to clean here as well. Something tells me, though, that offer would not go over well."
“You can do as you please after this,” he replied as he turned a canvas around. It was another painting, and the way it glistened showed that it was a recent piece...and she recalled he’d gotten no sleep last night...
It was a picture of the Crystal Empire at sunset, the castle gleaming in all its wonder. But it was the main focus of the picture that got her attention.
It was her, in a half-turn with a soft smile on her face. It had all the realism that his other pieces had, looking more like a window to the recent past than anything else. If that sketch was something he could do in just a few minutes, then this is what he could do with a whole night...
"You painted... Me?" The blush and slight shock on face were as evident as the green in her fur. "Do you have... No, you can't know what it means to me. I never told you..."
“I should have asked,” he said quietly. “But...during that moment? I just can’t get this image out of my head. Of that stubborn, nosy brat that’s made my life a little better.”
"I don't take issue with you painting me, it just means so much..." Here she move to softly stand in front of the painting. "When I started this, I had hoped just to meet a fellow artist. When I saw how far you had fallen, I became determined to be the one to motivate you to motivate yourself. And when I started to think that maybe I was intruding where I wasn't wanted... I feared I would have to leave. But this..."
“Maybe at first, you were just a pain in my ass,” he replied truthfully. “But, I needed that kick in the flank I guess. I just hope you like this is all...”
"It's beautiful, more beautiful than I deserve really. If you knew... You would have never painted this if you knew anything about me." For the first time since she had come into his home, the mare appeared genuinely sad and worried.
“It’s not as beautiful as the real thing,” he murmured. But what did she mean by ‘If you knew’? He apparently was going to find out. She took a few deep breaths as if to steel herself before a small trickle words eked out.
"I belong... Or sought to belong to a group of mares that love art and artists, so much that we try to inspire one to create the other. Membership in this group is determined by how well you take care of an artist should they need it. The lowest rung is finding one. The next rung is of course inspiring them, and so on up until you reach the penultimate stage: being drawn yourself."
“So...” Palette frowned as he looked at her. “I just...got you into this little club or something?”
"You almost have the right of it," she giggled, a little more like herself. "The best stage is being drawn so well that it could be a masterpiece." She sighed, resuming her downcast expression before saying the next bit. "Sadly, though, there is one stipulation: I have to show you something. Something that might make you want to throw me out. And please keep in mind: I wasn't thinking about that club when I first came here. All that information just came to the forefront of my mind when I saw this wonderful painting."
“Well, at least it’s good to hear that I wasn’t just a means to an end,” he chuckled slightly. “But like I said, you’re a pain in my ass. I doubt there’s anything you could do to make me throw you out at this point. Unless you destroyed one of my paintings, but I know you won’t do that.”
"No, I wouldn't, but I will give you a hint. What's my favorite medium?" Even with those words, her horn had lit up with a pale green glow.
“Illusions right? Because you can’t art without them?” His smirk was so wide it almost hurt. She smiled at him again.
"I more choose not to. Allow me to present...myself." And with that, the female in front of him shimmered and changed. Painted Palette looked at the new and improved Critical Eye and raised an eyebrow.
“Well...uh, that’s an...interesting form. Is that what you kids are into these days?”
"...I have a lot to talk with you about," she sighed.
That story had taken... a while, and once she was finished, the stallion that had listened patiently to the whole thing just stared pensively at her. After a moment of painful silence, he cleared his throat and licked his dry lips.
“So...this is what you really look like. The ponies of Equestria mostly fear and/or despise your kind, and you consume emotions?”
"That's the basic gist of it," she replied. "There are of course finer details, but I hardly think they matter at this juncture, as you most likely want me gone..."
He gave her a hard stare before settling in for his trademark frown. “Knew you were stubborn and bossy, didn’t think you also like putting word in my mouth Missy.”
"What pony would want to keep this around?" She gestured with a hoof to herself. The stallion snorted as he walked past her and towards the living room, mostly so she could see the snarky smile on his face.
“Doesn’t bother me none, but at least I know why you kept bugging me for so long~”
She blinked before a small smile crossed her face, involuntarily. "Did you just..." Critical followed after as her mind slowly kicked back on. "You did not just make a bug pun around me."
“Oh, says the mare that has constantly been flirting with a grieving widower,” he said with a hurt tone. She winced at that one; that barb had stung a little more than he knew.
"Have I said sorry about that yet? Because I am. I kept trying to act like some of the older Muses, and that includes using some of the things that one of my stepfathers taught me. If you want me to stop, I will."
The stallion turned so she could see his cocky smile. “For somepony that can read emotions, you’re pretty terrible at reading ponies.” He walked over and placed a hoof on her shoulder. “Look, I’ll admit that I think about them, a lot. But the past...was a long time ago. You couldn’t have known until I told you. And if I really was that upset, you really think you’d still be here?”
"I'm sorry," she apologized again. "It's just, you're the first pony I've interacted with outside of the Lands, and I didn't want to screw this up, so I kept doing what I thought was best for you... You're my first ever actual relationship, you know? How bucked up is that?"
“Oh, so this is a relationship now?” he quirked an eyebrow. She became so much more interesting now. “Seems that kids these days move far too quickly for an old stallion like myself.”
"You're still a creative, wonderful stallion," she replied. "You just needed a little help remembering, and now that that's done, I can't see any reason for you to want me to be around...”
He turned and looked out of the window at the slowly setting sun. “Hey ki-... Miss Critical. Grab that basket over there and follow me.”
Curious despite herself, the nymph did as instructed. A small ember of hope began to flare in her chest...
Once outside, he led her to the hill that she recognised from the painting he’d done of her. He sat on the soft grass and patted the spot next to him.
“Here. Sit.” She joined him without a word, just watching the sunset with him. He opened the basket and pulled out the wine bottle and two glasses. He also produced a small container filled with some roughly sliced cheese. After he poured her a glass and set it next to her, he sighed contently.
“It’s nice here, isn’t it?”
"I can see why you come out here," she responded with a slight nod. "There's just something soothing about this area..."
“Give it a moment,” he hummed, sipping his wine. He made sure to choose one with a low alcohol content. As he lowered his glass, the sun slipped behind the castle and his favourite moment occurred. The sunlight engulfed the crystal spires and bathed the hillside in a multitude of rainbow hues. The castle itself looked like it was on fire, erupting in flashes of oranges and reds. The sky was slipping into the first stages of twilight, the subtle purples complimenting the scene perfectly.
"Oh wow," The Changeling breathed. "How anypony could live up here and not be an artist escapes me after having seen that."
“I ask myself that all the time,” Palette chuckled. “This sight here? It was this spot where I got my Cutie Mark, and where I met Lily for the first time...” He smiled fondly for a moment and looked at her. “And now I’ve met you as well Miss Critical. I’d say this is definitely my favourite spot in all of Equus now.”
"I'm sure it has more to do with - you...used my name..." now she was really looking at him, her slitted eyes widened out of slight shock.
“Well, calling you ‘kid’ all the time might have been getting a little old.” His eyes twinkled with long forgotten mischief. “Maybe ‘grub’ or ‘nymph’ might be better eh?”
"Oh sure, repay me for being honest by getting specific with your insults," she fired back, though there was no fire or real bite to her voice at all.
“Eye for an eye flygirl,” he smirked. “Seriously though, why me? Why of all the cranky old stallions in the world, did you choose to annoy me?”
"Do you remember selling a painting to a, as I'm sure you would put it, 'a cocky colt who knew a thing, maybe two, about paint'?" Critical's eyes danced with merriment at this question. Palette tapped his chin and swallowed another mouthful of the fruity wine.
“Hmm, oh! That chatty Unicorn from the fair. And he did mention that somepony would likely come visit me because of it...” He smiled again, it was starting to become a habit. “And he mentioned one other thing as well.”
"My older step-brother took a while to teach proper respect for art...and what did he mention?" Now she was curious.
“That my visitor would be cute and single,” he said as he took a bite of cheese. “Guess he was right.” And that was when he learned that changelings can blush through chitin.
"I...highly doubt my brother made an observation like that," Critical replied, taking a gulp of wine to steady her nerves.
“It’s pretty much what he said, and I find that I can’t disagree.” Her reaction did not go unnoticed and now the shoe was on the other hoof. Hmmm...
“I came here to show you something beautiful, guess I had that at home all along hm?”
"Like you would ever pay attention to a nymph like me," she muttered, turning away to hide the fact that her face had nearly become completely scarlet.
“On the contrary, I now have quite the problem. You see, I went to all that effort to paint that picture of you, to finally rid my head of that image. And now I have another.” He winked at her as he sipped his wine. “You’re quite cute when you blush Missy.”
"I-!" She took another sip of her wine and muttered to herself. "Damn confusing stallion. Won't respond to my signals one day, sends out half a dozen himself the next."
“Oh, so you're all buzz and no sting huh?” Oh these bug puns were fun! She shot him a glare that could have made a Windigo pause.
"Those puns and those other words...I'm not sure if I want to punch you or kiss you." Then she seemed to realize just how honest she'd just been, and gulped thickly before looking away with the brightest blush yet. The stallion chuckled and stood up, packing away the mini-picnic and smiling before he placed a small kiss on the top of her head.
“Let’s go home, it’ll be getting cold soon,” he smirked as he gave his tail a flick. “Or we could just stick you in the sky. You’re burning like a second sun there Missy.”
"Well when you tease back so well-! I'm not helping myself, am I?" With a sigh, the nymph followed along after her host. "Another long night on the couch, yay me..."
“Well, you got the evening,” he said with a thoughtful hum. “Providing you can stop blushing like that.”
"... I got the evening... for what?" She asked with a tilt of her head.
“Well, you convinced me to paint,” he said, leaving the statement hanging as he headed for home. A thud signified how well she took the open-ended statement.
"Check please," the luminescent changeling muttered before passing out due to a lack of blood in any area that wasn't her face. Palette rolled his eyes and sighed. How was he supposed to carry her and the basket?
Two trips later, her first of course, he was now in the middle of preparing dinner. Slicing fruit and vegetables and checking on the pasta. It wasn’t much, but it was about the only thing he could cook well besides toast. Cold pasta and a mixed salad.
Eventually his guest showed herself, looking more sheepish than he had ever seen her. And in her disguise as well. "Um...just...what happened before I passed out? I think I recall something about you returning my teasing?..."
“Something like that,” he grunted as he stirred the pot, which was starting to bubble over. “Argh!”
"Oh gosh, here let me-" her horn lit up and her familiar aura coated the pot. He sighed with relief as she took over the arduous task that is cooking.
“Heh, and I thought I could surprise you with a meal,” he sighed. She just shook her head with a smile.
"Don't get me wrong, it would have been nice, but I'm starting to wonder how to tie this all together..." a thought struck her then. "Got any oil-based dressings hanging around? I can make this into pasta salad with that and a bit of cheese, we can have the fruit for dessert."
“Uhh...” She might as well have asked him what his thoughts were on modern magical theory. “Try the top cupboard?”
A quick check revealed a simple enough dressing for her purposes, and a glance in the sink showed that he'd at least thought that far ahead by putting a colander in. That was when things got delicious.
Checking and draining the pasta, the mare then put it in a large bowl and coated it liberally with the dressing and grated cheese. Making sure the noodles were evenly coated, she then quickly diced the vegetables and stirred them in before separating her concoction into two bowls. Serving one to Palette, she waited for his verdict on dinner with baited breath.
He took a bite and chewed slowly, once, twice, then swallowed.
“Well...” he hummed lightly.
"It would have better with olive oil, I know," she sighed. "Or maybe a lighter cheese, or-"
“With cooking like this, you’d make a fine wife for some lucky stallion,” he continued despite her rambling. She blushed again, looking away before replying.
"You're just saying that...nopony would want me, especially not if they knew..."
“You keep saying that, yet here you are,” he said, looking up from his plate. “I don’t know what things are like in Equestria, but here? I reckon you’d be hard-pressed to find a local that’d have a problem with your appearance. You’re different, so what. So are Crystal Ponies, so are all those regular ponies, or Griffons, or them bat-horses. How are you any different than any of them?”
"I'm an ugly parasite that can't shape-shift and has to rely on illusions to survive?" She replied with more than a little sarcasm.
He sighed as he finished his meal rather quickly. He trotted into his room and returned with a small canvas and a few paints and brushes. He sat back down and begun to paint, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he looked at the nymph every now and then. She blushed a little at the attention, before deciding to roll with it and eat as though nothing was happening.
After a half hour he nodded and put the canvas down, turning around so she could see. It was a simple portrait of her, as she truly looked. Her sparkling emerald eyes, the smooth black chitin. It was quite a faithful reproduction.
“I see a lovely mare with an even lovelier heart,” he said. “The canvas never lies. If I didn’t like you, then I’d never be able to produce something of this quality.”
She blushed yet again as she wondered how often she could do that before it was stuck that way. "Then...you really want me here?" She asked, almost too faint to hear.
“Have I kicked you out yet?” he asked her back. “Cause unless I’m getting senile in my old age, there’s a cute mare still sitting at my table.”
She took a breath before dropping her disguise. "And now?"
“Now there’s a cute bug sitting at my table,” he shrugged. “I fail to see a downside here.”
She decided to test the waters and slowly walked around to face him. After a moment to steel her nerves, she leaned forward and gave him the tiniest of pecks on the cheek. He didn’t pull away, or push her away, so those immediate fears were banished. A quick read of his emotions showed him to be...confused?
“Can I...ask you something?” he finally spoke. “What is it, that you want, what you expect of me?”
"...Just...somepony that likes me," she returned. "Somepony I can help, and somepony that doesn't mind me for who or what I am...I'm not going to ask for love, I know I don't deserve it..."
“Love huh?” the stallion wilted a little at that word. “I...don’t know, if I can give you that.”
"It's why I don't ask," she said before suddenly hugging him. "Still, it'd be nice to be...appreciated."
“I already do that, my cute little muse,” he said with a soft smile. “And I can’t promise you love, because I don’t know if I can. But...” he sighed as he returned the hug. “I suppose you’ll never know if you don’t stick around hm?”
"Let's start with that appreciation...and hint of lust, and go from there," she said, only half-teasing. "You still find me attractive?"
“Said I can’t love,” he replied. “I’m still a stallion though, and you’re working your way up to be in a heap of trouble Missy.”
"I bet I am," she said as a blush started to spread on her face. "If I asked you what you intend to do about it...?" She purposely trailed off, letting him fill in the rest.
“Well, guess you’ll have to wait and see,” he said back. Toying with her a little was fun, especially to see that cute blush of hers. “But right now, I wouldn’t mind seeing some of that illusion art of yours.”
"I suppose I could," she hummed, still not letting go. "But this is awfully cozy~"
The stallion huffed and let out a long sigh. “Ah well, guess I’ll just go on believing that magic isn’t art then. Don’t worry though, I’ll teach you how to paint, how to do real art.”
The Changeling nymph frowned before her horn lit up again, only this time it wasn't her that she was coating in her magic. The edges of the room began to glow as well, and slowly but surely Palette's dining area was replaced with a familiar view.
The view of the palace as the sun hit it just right. There wasn't a detail out of place from this beautiful sight.
Palette let out a low whistle as he got up and looked around. He almost wondered if they been teleported back to that time. “A pretty impressive re-creation,” he smiled. He looked back at her and he felt a challenge brewing. “How about something with a little more...imagination?”
"Fire away," she replied, not letting her horn's glow die for a moment.
“Well, I’m leaving that up to you. Whatever your imagination can conjure,” he grinned. “Let’s see what lies in that cute little head of yours eh?”
The view around them faded, to be replaced by the sight of a large, underground cavern, the top of which was filled with glowing crystals. Beneath them, he could make out a subterranean city, complete with roads and houses. Attached to the ceiling were much larger houses, at least, he assumed they were by the door he saw embedded into the side of one. In the distance, there was something resembling a guard tower piercing through the cavern ceiling.
"Welcome," she said with a small smile. "To a Changeling hive - the Silver one, I believe. Yup, that's the Archives over there." She pointed at a large, imposing building beneath them with one hoof.
“I was thinking of something original, maybe abstract...but still,” he looked around at the display with a satisfied expression. “Who’dve thought places like this existed...”
"Not most ponies, that's for sure," she chirped. "And that means over here..." The view shifted again to a close-up of one of the houses attached to the ceiling. "Welcome to my home!"
“Interesting place you have here,” he nodded. The crystals provided decent light, but it still took a moment for his eyes to adjust. “So this is where you grew up as a little bug huh?”
"Yup," she said as the world around them kept shifting. "There's some tactical reason behind having our homes so high up, but I never learned it myself." By now they were slowly taking a tour of the house, which except for the fact that it was underground and carved out of stone, was eerily similar in many respects to a pony's...
Deciding to have a little fun, he moved next to her as he looked around. Once he was in position, he gave her a subtle nudge and winked. “So, which way to your room then?”
She blushed a little at the implication, before she cleared her throat and began to explain. "For structural reasons, my little brothers can't room next to each other, and me and my older brother can't stand one another. And don't ask about my sister. Just...don't." The view began to pan down one hallway. "I bunk down here with my father, we understand each other fairly well."
“Must be tough to get any privacy with such a large family,” he said. It was very...odd, to have the scenery shift around you, rather than walking. He idly wondered if this was what it was like to fly. “Still, explains why you’re so responsible for one your age.”
"I just got done escorting all my younger siblings through Equestria, just to check on my brother. It would have been better if I could have stopped them before we reached the border, but mother was quite understanding." They came to rest outside of the door that led to her room. Not that he could tell, as the writing on the door was in Changeish. "This is me."
The stallion nodded, she’d certainly led quite an interesting life so far. Where as he...
He lamented on a past that even most history books had forgotten...
"So, uh, I dunno about showing you my place...even an illusion of it..." Critical rubbed one hole-riddled foreleg against the other as she looked away. That was when his heart skipped a beat again. Crystals she was cute when she was embarrassed,
But he had an idea to see an even cuter expression.
“Tell you what, why don’t you wait to show me personally eh?”
"Like you'd ever go far enough south to see my brother, much less the Lands," she fired back.
“Well, I wouldn’t,” he admitted. “But, if I had the right travelling companion...”
"Getting you through the border would be a hassle in and of itself," she mock complained. "Fine, I'll show you... Just, try not to laugh?" He crossed his heart with a hoof and nodded. The door slowly opened. And then he saw her room.
It was almost a shame that there was furniture in the room, because the walls, floor, and ceiling had all been painted. Painted to resemble a peaceful forest grove, with a small pond in one corner. There were even 'animals' at the border and a 'sun' overhead, painted around the small light crystal embedded in the ceiling.
“This is...your room?” he inquired. he felt...conflicted. On one hoof, the detail and quality of the paintings were astounding.
And on the other hoof, it had such an air of innocence. Almost like a foals room. And it made him feel so much older now. Truth be told, he had no idea how old Critical was...
Oh sweet Crystals! What if he had been flirting with a child this whole time!?
"I started this when I was very young, barely able to hold a paintbrush long enough to do the sun. Then I added the animals... And then one day dad took me up to the surface to see an actual forest for myself. That was when I decided I was going to make my entire room like that." She walked over to the small fake pond and smiled softly. "Anytime I needed to get away or paint just for painting's sake, I came back and added a little more. One day I looked around and realized it was done."
Okay, he was getting his panic under control and would have a few poignant questions later. He looked around and noticed that she was right. Every inch of this room was painted. “So what happened next?” he inquired.
"Then I learned about my...disability," she said, her mood souring slightly. "It's not a big deal... Unless you want to interact with ponies, which I did one day. The border offices don't let too many who can't transform get a visa; they'd be letting somebug with only half the usual protection against accidental reveals into a land that isn't famous for tolerating us."
“And I’m willing to bet that the Empire was still asleep at this point,” he sighed. For a land that promoted love and peace and all that crap, they were pretty harsh towards anypony that differed too greatly from them, hell, even Zebra’s copped it every now and then.
"Yep, just as you showed up I had a brilliant idea. One inspired by my older brother actually." She sat there with a smug smile on her face, waiting for him to ask the question.
“Oh, me personally or the Empire in general?” he inquired. “Must have been really something to use an idea of the brother you cannot stand.”
"He always had an answer, no matter the insult or situation...but that was because he studied and read constantly. So...I studied and read up on the test to get a visa, and where possible, gamed the system."
“And you tricked your way into Equestria huh?” he smiled as he looked around for his kitchen. He felt like some more coffee, but everything was obscured by the illusion. Oh well...
"It took them some time to admit I hadn't technically broken any rules...by the time I was done playing chaperone to my younger siblings, I got word that my visa application had been approved...as long as I didn't tell any other similarly disabled bug what I'd done." The illusion slowly started to fade around them, revealing his home once again.
“Yes, because Equestria is far better without any adorable bugs running around,” he snarked as he went to his coffee pot. “Well, that raises a question I have actually. It’s kind of personal, but I need to know before we continue.” He took a breath and looked at the mare. “How old are you?”
"18 last month," she replied, a hint of a blush adorning her cheeks at the mention of her being adorable. "And I can kind of see their point: until the unlikely day comes when there is free, true and open peace between the Lands and Equestria... It's too risky letting more like me into Equestria."
The stallion let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. Okay, he was still twice her age, but still... She acted far older than she was, and, he was entitled to a little happiness right?
“Well, you’re welcome here for as long as you like,” he said hastily, downing his coffee and then releasing that was a mistake when he burned his tongue.
"As you've said multiple times, in various ways...what does knowing my age have to do with it?" Now she was interested, if the head-tilt was any indication.
“I was just...concerned is all,” he said in a hoarse voice as he swallowed some water. “Don’t worry about it. Just an old stallion overthinking things.”
"If you say so," she replied, blushing a little more as she thought about what relevance her age could have. Surely he couldn't be...
“Still, those illusions are pretty good,” he said, changing the subject for now. “Combine those with a good story, and you’d have quite the money-maker on your hooves.” He finished his water and sighed. It was starting to get late and he had a few ideas for tomorrow.
“Well, I think that’s enough for now. What say we hit the hay hm?”
"I can go for that," Critical said as she headed for the living room, intent on taking up the couch again.
“And where do you think you’re going?’ he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"My 'bed,' such as it is?" She replied with a tone that made him imagine she would be raising her own eyebrow if she could.
“Well, if you want to I suppose,” he shrugged and he nudged his own bedroom door open. “I mean, I have a perfectly good bed in there and a mare does need her beauty sleep... just saying,” he winked as he trotted into the store room. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
She blinked a few times, before her face nearly turned completely bright-red. Then a devious idea crossed her mind, and she decided to show him another ability changelings had.
Inside the storeroom, he stared at the painting of his family and sighed as he gently touched the canvas. “Is this...okay?” he asked it, looking into their eyes. “Am I allowed to be happy again? Has it been long enough?” He wished he could see them again, but they were gone. He couldn’t change that. “I’m going...that start moving again,” he whispered. “I’m going to move forward. So, watch over me eh?” He gave the painting one last look and turned, leaving the room.
By the time he came back, she had disappeared from sight. She wasn't on the bed, the couch, or... Anywhere that he could see.
“The buck...?” he blinked as he walked into his room. “Don’t tell me I pushed her too fast. Great going Palette.”
That was when the form of the nymph crashed into his body from above, her forelegs wrapping around his neck as she chittered happily. The stallion stumbled as his heart nearly leapt out of his chest.
“Stars above!” he yelped as he regained his footing. “Seems my home has an infestation of heart-attack inducing cuteness.”
"It's useful being able to walk on walls, ponies rarely think to look up inside," she replied as she continued to hug him. "Makes sneak hugging attacks so much easier."
“Noted, I’ll pay more attention to the ceiling,” he smirked and tilted his head to kiss her cheek. “Provided your cuteness isn’t being too distracting.”
"Less of the flattery, more snuggling," Critical commanded, though her blush had made a resurgence.
“Oh, but I can do both,” he said as he walked towards the bed. She was surprisingly light. “So uh...you sure, about this?”
"About what?"
“You, me...same bed?” he reminded her, motioning to the furniture a hoofs length away.
"...I'm sure," she eventually responded, knowing her face was probably beet-red. He nodded as he climbed onto the bed, and slowly rolled over so she was now positioned in front of him so he could return the hugs.
“I won’t push you into anything,” he said, noting that despite being covered in a chitinous shell, she was pretty nice to hold. Or perhaps he had just really missed holding somepony else. She simply nuzzled the crook between his head and his neck, taking in his presence, his closeness.
"Hold me?" she eventually asked. "I just want to be held tonight. We can... see about more later."
“That I can do,” he sighed as he hugged her a little tighter. Yeah, he had definitely missed this. “So does that mean I’m stuck with you now?”
"Unless you kick me out, or go to the store and pick up a can of bug spray," she lightly joked.
“Nah, I’m good,” he smiled, nuzzling the back of her neck. “Well, let’s get some sleep. We have a full day tomorrow after all.”
"A muse's job is never done," Critical sighed. "G'night then."
“Aye, I’m looking forward to our date tomorrow,” he said, letting that plan drop. “Good night, don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
"...Wait, date? What date?" His only response was some peaceful-sounding snoring.
"...Fine, but I reserve the right to be creative when I get my revenge," she warned, before snuggling close to him and closing her eyes.
On a train bound for Ponyville, two individuals sat in the train carriage. One was a green-haired mare with a permanent scowl. The other was a Thestral stallion with a rather bored expression as he read the newspaper.
“This isn’t going to work,” she muttered. “Celestia is a friggen idiot.”
“Sometimes,” Grissom chuckled. “But have faith eh. I have it on good authority that Princess Twilight is a little comfortable around your kind now.” And while he could have sent some rank and file guards for this, there was somepony in Ponyville he had to meet. He needed to see if she was okay.
Tomorrow should be quite interesting...