Celestia's Clandestine

by Ashtree and Tealove


Hoe Down


“Alright, everypony! Time to jump onto the dance floor and rock out to the newest dance craze in Ponyville, the Navigator!” the DJ boomed as ponies all across the corral rushed to the dance floor in a stampede of cheers. Then the music began, blaring across Ponyville and even though everypony was pooped out from all the carnival fun and games that had lasted from sun up to sun down, they still found energy enough to dance the night away.
Even the ponies who’d originally wanted to avoid the Hoedown had somehow found themselves on the dance floor, shimmying to the Navigator-the dance routine that had surprisingly caught on only a few hours ago following the Summer Wrap-Up Festival’s float parade.
Everypony was dancing, roaring with delight, everypony except Tealove.
It’s not that Tealove didn’t like dancing, it’s not that she didn’t want to, no. She wanted to, but she just didn’t have any friends. She didn’t talk much either. Nopony talked to her, why should she talk to them? Okay, some ponies did, but it was never a real conversation, just the usual compliments on Tealove’s gorgeous curly blue mane and sleek green coat. And that was it.
Did they see something in her that kept them from carrying on the conversation? Was it because Tealove wasn’t so good at carrying on conversations herself? Or was it possible that everypony else already had their friends and there was just no room for Tealove? Any way, this mare stood to the side, watching ponies of all ages, shape and size dance without the worries of making a fool of themselves. They didn’t care if they messed up the steps, didn’t mind toppling onto the pony next to them because they’d accidentally missed a beat-nopony cared. They just got back up and laughed it off, and how Tealove wished she could do that, could be out there with the others.
“Okay, everypony!” the DJ exclaimed as the song came to a close, morphing into one that made Tealove’s heart stop, “It’s time to slow it down, so stallions! Grab your mares and come on down to the floor!”
A slow song. (Danger, danger!)
Tealove quickly began making her way as far from the dance arena as she could, pushing through the crowd as dashing stallions generously asked waiting mares to dance.
It’s not that Tealove didn’t like slow songs, no, but nopony had ever asked her to one and she very much didn’t want to be that awkward lonely pony who stand on the sidelines and watches all the dancing couples make out. (Yes, that's happened. A lot.)
The truth was, Tealove adored slow songs. She loved their flowing notes, their beautiful cords, their sweet words as delicate as china tea cups, but it was after her father died two years ago that she had stopped listening to them. They reminded her too much of a father-daughter dance she had attended with him where they had spent hundreds on their outfits, hours at a spa, danced until three in the morning and ate all the sweets they could get their hooves on, all of which infuriated her step-mother. (Mom had passed on my tenth birthday.)
But now he was gone. Her only dance partner, her only comfort, her only friend. Gone. And that left her to work alone in her family’s Tea Room, blasting anything but slow songs when there were no customers in the shop.
In the midst of her thoughts, Tealove didn’t notice she was headed straight for danger, straight into a collision, straight-
CRASH. Then she noticed. She’d ran right into a stallion.
“Sorry!” Tealove squeaked, her cheeks turning a darker green, but then she realized that stallion was busy. Making out with a mare.
(Abort, abort!!)
Tealove quickly ducked her head down and ran as fast as she could without crashing into somepony else as the stallion behind her yelled, “Hey!” after un-suctioning himself from his partner.
Tealove shoved headfirst towards her safety zone-the dessert table-, crystal blue eyes glued to her trotting hooves as the music floated over the swaying crowd, twisting every heart into a glop of romance. (Gross.)
Just as she was nearing the area that was clear of dancing ponies, she smashed into another somepony. So hard it made her ears ring, so hard her skull shook and she staggered back moment before realizing who she’d crashed in to. (Please don’t let it be another mush scene!)
A red stallion (thankfully alone), broad, buff, strong and displaying a large green apple cutie mark along with a symbol of his hard work, a yoke, around his neck.
“Sorry,” he said distractedly, his voice so deep it sent a small chill up Tealove’s spine.
His freckles were so cute, his green eyes like emeralds against the dark starry sky, his short blonde mane sweeping effortlessly to the side as he shook his head to clear it. Then the whole world seemed to wash away all at once and Tealove was swept through a whirlwind of blurs, the very earth beneath her seeming to leave, then she saw it.
Before her were scenes of explosions, chases through big cities, sea demons and pearl necklaces, each zooming by so Tealove could only get a glimpse of each, but through every scene, one thing stayed the same. A large hoof of comfort was wrapped around her. The stallion’s hoof. Could it be? Was he the one who could be-?
CRASH. Then a hard blow to the head sent Tealove spinning back into the present time. She staggered back not only from the sudden change in scenery but also from her throbbing head. She looked around, confused, then saw the red stallion walking further into the crowd. (Wait!) But then she was once again hit, this time punched in the flank, and she whipped around to find none other than Fleetfoot the Wonderbolt. (Funny seeing you around.)
“He’s MINE!!” the blue pegasus roared and before Tealove could think, she was tackled to the floor and rained on by the furious blows from Fleetfoot.
“OW!” Tealove yelped, “What are you-?!!” but then she spotted her answer. Before Fleetfoot had begun the fight, she had dropped a giant stuffed Pinkie Pie toy, (quite ugly, if I do say so myself) and a tiny figure and picture of the red and blonde stallion she had just crashed into. (No. He already had a special somepony!)
“YOU-little-you DARE-?!!!” Fleetfoot screamed as she continued to thrash at her victim, and Tealove knew she’d end up as mince meat if she didn’t fight back so….
Just as Fleetfoot was about to take another punch to Tealove’s face, Tealove hit her with one bone braking buck in the stomach.
“GAH!” Fleetfoot cried as she fell back, and Tealove took this as her opportunity to run for it.
“Come back here!!!” she heard the Wonderbolt bellow, but Tealove didn’t turn back, she kept galloping until she’d broken free from the Hoedown corral and had reached the streets lined with booths, rides, and games, all closed taken in account of the Hoedown.
Tealove panted as she slowed to a nervous trot (what the hay was that mare thinking?) and only stopped at the saddle bag drop off stand to take her things she’d left before the Hoedown. (Well, I’m not going back there I guess it’s time to call it a night.)
Tealove thanked the old stallion who’d given her her bag even though it was impossible to hear her voice over the booming music coming from the corral, then she began the trot home.
Tealove lived with her step-mother in what used to be her home (now it’s more like a prison), and though Tealove would have so much rather slept on the tile floor of her Tea Room shop, she could never get herself to leave. That was the house where she had been born, where her dead mother had lived, where she and her dad had stayed, alone for four years (it would have been seven if miss hay bag hadn’t moved in three years ago). She had had so many memories, horrid and blissful, in that house and if she left, Tealove was sure her step-mother would change everything so that every past memory was stripped from the place. (And that would include destroying mom’s bedroom, and that means miss poop face gets destroyed….though that last part wouldn’t be so bad.)
The shadows of the chilling night stretched across Ponyville's cobblestone streets as the crescent moon above sparkled peacefully amidst the twinkling stars. Tealove approached the neat array of houses lining Sugar Street and counted down to the sixth one, the only home with windows spilling with florescent flowers (Miss mare's failed attempt to 'bring some color to this drab place'. Right. Go suck an egg).
Tealove inhaled deeply as she spotted the dim light still lit in her step-mother's room. Perhaps she had fallen asleep while watching her favorite shows and maybe, just maybe, Tealove could sneak in without being noticed. She slowly clicked open the door, staggered inside (just to smell that retched stink of perfume that jerk face mare keeps using) then began tiptoeing through the living room and towards the stairs. Even though her stomach was gurgling for something sweet (perhaps a mini eclair would hit the spot), but Tealove pushed away the urge to make a detour to the kitchen and refocused on making her way up the stairs without creaking.
As the mare neared the top of the staircase, she spotted a light reaching toward her from her step-mother's room, then the noise of a television pricked her ears (oh please let the old mule just have left the TV on!). Tealove carefully peeked over the last step. She gazed across the second floor. There was her second best safety zone-her bedroom- just feet away, but before she could reach it, she had to get past the open door to her step-mother's room. So Tealove began the dangerous journey across the landing, not letting out a single breath as she passed the red zone, then she reached the door to her room and was about to place a hoof on the knob when-
DONG. DONG. DONG. The grandfather clock!
Tealove almost jumped out her fur from the sudden noise. (I know, I know! Way past bedtime, way past curfew, now shut up!) Tealove looked anxiously towards the door of her step-mother, (please for once keep your fat rump down when you're supposed to!) and thankfully, nothing appeared in its doorway and after thirteen dongs (enough dongs for one to have enough time to pull out all of their mane and tail), the house returned to silence.
Tealove let out a small sigh (for once Celestia is on my side!) then she turned back to her bedroom door, carefully turned the knob and-HIC! (No. Not the hiccups. You know how hard those things are to get rid of?!) HIC!
Tealove shoved a hoof in her mouth, bulldozed open her door and then-
"Tealove Van Clovers!"
(Thanks Celestia.)
Tealove squeezed her eyes shut then slowly turned around to find none other than her step-mother in the doorway of her room, her pink coat gleaming, her white mane done perfectly in curlers, her lips as red as roses and wearing a white silk robe with a slit high enough on the flank to show off the mare's treble and bass clef made into a heart cutie mark, (which I'm like, why even bother? No one's going to see you sleeping, but then the mule's all like, 'well dear they don't call it beauty sleeping for nothing!'. Yah. Sure.) but there was one thing that stuck out amidst the mare's glowing beauty.
(Her ugly face?)
It was her teeth, or rather, fangs. Tealove's step-mother was a bat pony (or so she claims. I'm pretty sure she's a monster in disguise though) with leathery wings, furry ears and a constant craving for bugs and sometimes even bloody meats (which I always have to make. She would've done it herself if she didn't know I'm vegetarian. Like every other normal pony in the world!!). So along with this mare's beauty was a gleam of evil.
"Tealove." (yes we've accomplished that) her step-mother repeated then gazed at her step daughter up and down form her slightly frizzed mane to the bruises on her legs, then she tutted, "Tealove, Tealove. Tsk, tsk, dear. You're father would be ever so disappointed."
Tealove suppressed a scowl, but couldn't help growling, "Don't talk about my dad."
Unfortunately, the older mare heard Tealove's comment and (thank you once again, Celestia) instantly melted into a sappy, sickly honey.
"Now, Tealove!" she exclaimed as if she had just called herself ugly, "I know you can to better than that! Come now, tell me I'm an ugly mule who deserves the same fate as your mother!"
Tealove's nostrils flared and she shouted, "Don't you talk about my mother!"
Her step-mother gave her a look a concern and began cautiously striding towards her step-daughter, "Oh dear, my apologies! I should have known better...now tell me dear," the mare leaned close to Tealove's face and delicately whispered, "what horrible thing made you late coming to the my house and breaking my rules?"
Tealove huffed through her nostrils and shook her mane, causing her step-mother (how about we call her Miss mule? That sound good to me) to quickly back away, but she quickly regained ground.
"Such an untamed beast, you are," Miss mule offered sweetly, "I should sign you up for a trainer, a pony of my kind would do best, to teach you to act more civilized. How does that sound, Cute-Tea?"
(Oh no. She did not just use dad's nickname on me.)
"Don't call me that!!" Tealove practically roared, but that only brought Miss mule to chuckle.
"Now dearest, temper. Now, we'd best be off to bed, yes? I'm sure you're very tired from your night. Would you like me to brush your hair before nighty night?"
(She did not just quote my mom.)
"Shut UP!" Tealove screamed, holding back tears as best as she could as Miss mule drew closer, trotting around her and whispering,
"I'll be sure to hire that trainer. Now to bed with you, and I will hear what has happened tonight at the morning's breakfast, so don't think you're getting away, dear."
Then the two were muzzle to muzzle (with just a centimeter separating us and let me tell you, that old goat stank like hay. I don't know what perfume she's using now, but she stinks like haaay) then Miss mule whispered so quietly it was more like a gentle breath of words, but they cut into Tealove like nothing else.
"From now on, let's try just a little harder not to totally make a fool of your daddy and mum, shall we?"
Tealove's very bones were shaking with rage, her face felt like burnt toast, smoke might as well have been blowing from her ears, and she stormed into her room, slamming the door as hard as she would on Miss mule's face, then she flung herself on her bed, letting all her rage and fire burn out of her through floods of tears until she'd cried herself to sleep.