//------------------------------// // Barge in the Larder // Story: The Noblesse Oblige Part I // by Aquarian_Sage //------------------------------// In the quiet, hallowed halls of Castle Platinum, Noble Heart wandered. It had been a scant few hours since his charioteer flew him to Castle Platinum. Over and over his mind wandered back to the princess's brunch: large, fluffy pancakes dripping with syrup, massive fruit salads gleaming in the sunlight, light and buttery Prench croissants, and the cheeses, oh the cheeses! Why in Celestia’s mane didn’t he eat before getting into the argument with his mother? At the thought of her, Noble Heart’s tensed with anger. Who was she to chastise him for not wanting to be some social flutterpony? Who was she to accuse him of having an ‘antisocial affliction?’ Just because he wasn’t a carbon copy clone of her like Golden Crown didn’t mean there was anything wrong with him. Noble Heart’s stomach grumbled. Sighing, he fell out of bed. The brunch certainly looked nice, but maybe he could find an adequate replacement here… Getting up, the colt quietly cantered his way to the castle's kitchens. When he got the kitchen he heard others talking. He swiveled his ears forward… There were four. Noble Heart dared a peek. The staff was enjoying a small tobacco/gossiping break by the window at the far end of the room. Even more fortunate for him, the larder was right next to him. With a thumping heart, Noble Heart dove into the pantry, making a particularly concerted effort to be silent on his hooves. Apples, carrots, pears! The perfect meal for a hungry colt. He began to munch away, making sure to keep both his ears focused on his servants. “They’re here already?” a milch cow asked as she looked out the small window. “Ugh." The head chef took a deep drag from her pipe. “Time flies quickly when you don’t want it to.” “I’ll say,” the pastry chef agreed. “At least they won’t be hungry for awhile. “Don’t get your hopes up,” the donkey said. “I’m pretty sure the ‘lovely’ ladies of House Platinum,” he then adopted a falsetto voice with a thick Canterlot accent, “had an absolutely dreadful time, and the food was just horrid, and the servants ever so disrespectful.” The chefs laughed. The milch cow was not amused. “You should be careful, Cranky. The walls have ears, and you could get fired for saying such things.” Cranky scoffed. “Let the miserable old bags fire me; I’m going to quit soon anyway! I just wanted to save up enough money to go traveling some more, and I’ve done that and then some! If they fire me in the next hour, it’s no hair off my muzzle.” The pastry chef released a dreamy sigh. “Ah, Cranky, if I but had thy courage.” The head chef banged banged her pipe against the wall. “So if you already have the bits you want, why are you even here? (Not that I’m complaining, of course.)” Cranky chuckled. “Have I got a something to tell you.” “Well, this must be good if the Cranky Doodle is willing to break his no gossip rule.” “Oh believe me: it’s a doozy!” “Well out with it then! Before the Platinums bust in here barking out orders!” “Well, just the other day, I was minding my own business gardening the vegetable patch like always, when who should I see but Princess Blueblood herself!” “When was she here? I thought she lived in Castle Canterlot,” the heifer said. “Maybe she was taking a break? Who knows with her. Anyway, I decided not to pay her any heed, because you know how it is: do not speak unless spoken to. When I saw her, I saw she was writing down something, a journal, I think, but again I just left her to it and went to go do some busy work in the greenhouse. “Just as I made it to the greenhouse, the wind comes by and blows all her parchments everywhere! I was about to ask her if I could fetch anything, but Celly’s belly, the princess was quick as a whip. The moment that gust blew away her stuff, she does some magic and the papers freeze in mid air!” At this, the colt stopped stuffing his face with pears and inched forward to the door of the larder, ears straining to listen. “Ah,” the head chef said in understanding. “You know that she used to be the greatest dueling mage in the land? I guess she never lost her reflexes.” “Not quite.” Noble Heart could hear the smirk in Cranky’s voice. “I bet when she was younger, the princess could have caught every single one of those pages, but she missed, I would say… about 1/4 of them.” “Still not bad for a mare in her one hundred thirty’s!” the milch cow chimed in. “You’re telling me!” Cranky laughed. “Luckily for her, most of those papers flew by me, so I immediately started collecting what I could.” “What did the princess say?” the pastry chef asked. “Nothing,” Cranky answered. “She just watched me as I picked up her pages. When I gave them to her, Princess Blueblood counted them and said she was still missing a few.” The cow grimaced in empathy. “Was she nasty about it?” “No,” the donkey continued. “I just said to her, ‘How many did I miss?’ And the princess gives me the number, and I go back to look for them.” “Wow.” The head chef gave a barking laugh. “No mean words, no orders, just ‘I need this’ and that’s it. I can hardly believe that Princess Blueblood’s a Platinum. Was she watching you like a hawk?” “Nope! The moment she tells me the number, she looks down and starts to organize all the papers, and I just go on my merry little way to get the rest.” The pastry chef groaned in envy. “If only the rest of her family were so accommodating.” Cranky nodded. “I'll say. But back to my story: I’m looking for the rest of her pages, and I find a few that had some juicy info on them! And I mean national security information.” “Cranky!” the milch cow said, completely scandalized. “I ain’t repeating that kind of stuff, and it’s none of my business anyway. That stuff’s for Queen Celestia to look into, but I find the princess’ latest page (I could tell by all the smudged ink) and oooooh Celestia.” The heifer stomped her hoof. “I don’t think I’m going to listen to this anymore!” Cranky snorted. “Calm down, Maple. I wouldn’t tell you national secrets unless someone literally tortured it out of me. No, the stuff I saw on that last page, well... Let’s just say that the princess is mad.” “Crazy mad or furious mad?” “The second,” Cranky clarified. “I know everyone here can’t stand the Platinums—” “—Speak for yourself!” Maple huffed. “—but Princess Blueblood hates them.” A chorus of disbelief answered him and Noble Heart leaned closer to the door. “It’s true!” Cranky went on. “She kept writing on and on about how they shamed the queen and all the great Platinums of the past, and you know, I agree with her! All the Platinums do nowadays is play tea party and rub fetlocks with the who’s who of Equestria. None of have ever worked a day in their lives and the only reason why the family is still relevant is because of all the taxes and rent they collect from all their lands!” “Cranky, be quiet!” Maple admonished. “Well by telling me to be quiet, you’re telling Princess Blueblood to be quiet, because that’s what she said.” “You’re just exaggerating,” the cow insisted. “I’m not! Anyway, the princess said that she had something planned for all of them when they got back from her birthday brunch. And if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to head down to the dining hall. I’m going to see what Princess Blueblood has in store for her family. You’re welcome to join me, or just stand here thinking about how magnanimous and lovely the Platinums are.” And Noble Heart heard the light clipclop of the donkey’s hooves as he calmly cantered away. Unsurprisingly, both of the chefs immediately followed behind, ready for the catharsis Cranky had promised. Also unsurprisingly, the heifer stood by the window, enjoying the last few minutes of her break. With the three equines out of the room, Noble Heart decided to slip out of the larder and go join his family in the dining hall.