//------------------------------// // Chapter Eight // Story: Ivory // by Lithe Kamitatsy //------------------------------// “Now, play the passage again, this time accenting the third note of the phrase,” said Frederic. The colt looked at the piano with a frustrated expression. “Again?” he asked. “But this is boring!” “It might seem boring now,” said Frederic, “but this is the best way to make sure you have complete control over the phrase.” The colt played through the passage again, not missing a single note. “Okay, good. Now again, this time accenting the fourth note.” “But—” “Just trust me,” Frederic said with a small smile. The colt did as he was told, accenting the fourth note. “And the fifth.” The colt did so. This repeated for the sixth, seventh, eighth, and so on. “Good,” said Frederic. “Now, play the whole phrase.” The colt did so, playing the phrase, and every note had the same emphasis—none of them stuck out as louder than the other. It was a completely even, consistent sound. “There,” said Frederic. “See?” “Woah…” the colt said, impressed. “Now you can speed up. After you do the exercise,” said Frederic. “Just make sure you do it every day.” “Okay!” the cold said excitedly. “Thanks Mister Frederic! See you next week!” “Not a problem, see you then,” Frederic said with a smile as he drew out the piano’s key cover, setting it down over the keyboard gently. The colt ran off, rejoining his mother as she trotted by, the two leaving together. Frederic gave a small sigh. “Well, that was my last lesson for today. I think I’ve earned a little treat. Perhaps a nice warm pastry from Sugarcube Corner...” he said to himself, getting up and leaving the music room. He didn’t feel comfortable being cooped up in his apartment all day, so he figured that perhaps he could volunteer at Cheerilee’s school-house. “Oh, I should thank Cheerilee for letting me use her music room,” he said to himself. He made his way to the front of the school-house, finding Cheerilee sitting behind her desk, grading papers. She noticed Frederic as he entered the room. “All done, Frederic?” “For today, yes. I’ll be back next week,” Frederic said. “I also wanted to thank you for allowing me to volunteer to give piano lessons.” “Oh Frederic, I should be thanking you for volunteering! The children love watching you play and I daresay you’d make a great teacher,” Cheerilee said. “Have you ever considered it?” “Maybe once or twice, but at the end of the day, I just can’t stay away from the ivory keys,” Frederic said assuredly. “I completely understand. You have a nice day Frederic,” Cheerilee said. “Same to you,” Frederic replied, exiting the school-house. He took a step outside, took a deep breath, and exhaled. Some time had past since he had decided to take his leave of absence, and it had done him a world of good. He felt his energy coming back, the world felt just a bit brighter and the air smelled a bit sweeter. “Now, about that pastry!” he said to himself, making his way into town. “Are you guys sure this thing’s safe?” Sweetie Belle asked, examining the motorized contraption before them. “Or legal?” “Sure it is!” Scootaloo said, fanning a hoof at her. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna be fine! I mean, if Rainbow Dash can handle going as fast as she does, then why can’t we?” “There’s a couple of things wrong with that line a’ thinkin’, Scoots,” Applebloom stated, now fairly certain that their safety was a legitimate concern. “C’mon guys! This is gonna be the one, I can feel it!” Scootaloo said, her eyes shining like stars as she thought of the possibility of having a speed-related cutie mark like her idol Rainbow Dash. “That’s what you said last time, and I’m still picking dirt from weird places!” Sweetie Belle protested. “I’m startin’ to have my doubts…” Applebloom said. She slowly inched away from the contraption, suddenly stopping when Scootaloo swung a foreleg around her shoulders. “C’mon Applebloom! Just think of the possibilities! Don’t you want to have an awesome go-kart-racing cutie mark, or, or a cutie mark that’s a lightning bolt with flaming wheels?” Scootaloo said. “That does sound cool…” Applebloom said, a smile creeping across her face. Scootaloo then trotted over to Sweetie Belle, giving her the same speech. “Flaming wheels?” Sweetie Belle asked, unconvinced. “I dunno…” “What about flaming wings?” Scootaloo asked, raising an eyebrow. Sweetie’s jaw dropped at the mental image. She saw herself, much older and carrying a racing helmet under her foreleg, a steely gaze in her eyes as she posed for the photographers, flashing her flaming lightning bolt wings cutie mark. Her pupils widened, her irises all but disappearing. “Let’s do it!” Sweetie Belle said, completely sold on the idea. “Awesome!” Scootaloo squealed. “Besides, I brought helmets, so we’ll be fine!” Applebloom then looked at Sweetie Belle. “She did bring helmets…” Applebloom said. “It would be rude not to use them!” Sweetie Belle snickered. The three fillies put on their helmets, strapping themselves into the contraption. “Alright fillies, hold onto your butts!” Scootaloo said, manning the controls. “Don’t say the ‘B’ word!” said Sweetie Belle. Scootaloo would have heard her had she not turned the key, the motor roaring to life under the hood. “Here we go!” Scootaloo yelled, stamping her hoof on the pedal, the go-kart rocketing forward at a speed none of them could have imagined. “Did anyone fasten their seatbelts!?” yelled Scootaloo. “What’s that?” shouted the other two. It was at this point that an oddly alien feeling of dread occurred to Scootaloo. “O-Okay, I think it’s time to slooow dooown!” she yelled, putting her hoof on the brake pedal. She applied pressure, and the pedal snapped like a dried twig, disappearing behind them almost instantaneously. “Uh oh!” “‘Uh oh’!? What do you mean ‘uh oh’!?” Applebloom yelled. “Hit the brakes already!” “That’s just it! The brake pedal broke!” Scootaloo replied, now panicking. “They shouldn’t call it that!” squeaked Sweetie Belle. They had little time to discuss the naming of parts, however, as they were now rocketing towards town at high speed with no way to stop themselves. “M-maybe we’ll slow down on our own!” Applebloom said, trying to keep calm. Scootaloo’s eyes widened. “Not if that gets in our way!” Scootaloo yelled, pointing at a large, sloping rock just ahead, the cart now on a direct collision course. The fillies held onto each other tightly as the cart hit the rock, launching them upward and in separate directions. Scootaloo landed in a tree, dazed and confused. Applebloom landed in the fountain, no worse for wear than having gained a new fear of heights. Unfortunately for Sweetie Belle, fate had other plans in mind for her, the poor filly getting launched the furthest from the point of impact. Frederic sighed contentedly, having thoroughly enjoyed his pastry. “Thank you again, Mr. Cake. Your apple tarts are as good as ever,” he said as he paid for an extra one to take home. “Why, thank you kindly! Come on back anytime,” Mr. Cake said with a smile. Frederic exited the building, pastry in hoof, wondering what to do next. Maybe I should go back to the apartment and practice, he thought. Or maybe go to the park. Suddenly, the sound of a loud bang not far from where he was standing echoed through the town, Frederic turning towards the source of the sound. Three objects soared through the air, one landing in a tree, another in the nearby fountain… and the third heading straight for him. Oh hell— Frederic barely had time to think as Sweetie Belle barreled headlong into him, colliding with his chest helmet-first. The two tumbled end over end, ending up more than ten feet from where Frederic was standing. Ow… Thought Frederic, lying on his back. I think I’m in pain… “Ugh… ow, my hoof…” Sweetie Belle groaned, tears welling up in her eyes as the pain overwhelmed her. Frederic blinked the stars out of his eyes, recognizing the voice as Sweetie Belle’s. “S-Sweetie Belle? Are you alright?” Frederic asked, finding it rather difficult to breathe. “My hoof…” Sweetie sniffled. “I think it’s broken,” she said. “Rarity’s gonna kill me…” “Nevermind that, we need to get you medical attention,” Frederic said, shakily clambering to his hooves and resting Sweetie Belle on his back. He ignored the massive, throbbing pain in his head, focusing instead on getting Sweetie Belle the help she needed. Sweetie Belle blinked the tears out of her eyes, looking at Frederic from where she sat. She gasped as she saw that part of Frederic’s normally white mane was stained a deep crimson, a rather serious-looking gash visible on the top of his head. “Frederic!” Sweetie Belle said, now terrified that he had been hurt because of her. “Just relax, you’re going to be okay!” Frederic said, picking up the pace. He found his vision was becoming blurry. “But Frederic—!” Sweetie protested. “It’s okay, Sweetie Belle… Hold on,” Frederic said, now breaking into a gallop. Whew… I am hurting… is it normal to have this much trouble breathing? he thought. He made his way towards Ponyville General Hospital, entering in through the emergency room. Several ponies gasped and jumped out of his way when they saw the state he was in as he made his way to the check-in desk. “Excuse me, I need your help,” Frederic said urgently. “I can see that! What happened to you!?” the nurse behind the counter asked, shocked at his appearance. “Forget about me, just tend to her,” Frederic said curtly, allowing Sweetie Belle to slide off his back. “She hurt her hoof in an accident,” he said. “Sir, do you understand that you’re bleeding profusely?” the nurse asked, desperately searching for towels to stem the flow of blood down Frederic’s head and neck. “What? I am?” He looked down, seeing his coat stained by trails of blood running from different angles he could not see. He then looked behind him, his eyes following a long, red trail leading to where he was standing. He then felt a warm trickle down his face, raising a hoof and touching it. After examining that it was in fact his blood, he then looked at the nurse.“Oh,” he said calmly, wiping his hoof on his chest as his legs started to wobble. “So I am...” he mumbled as the world faded to black. Frederic heard the dull hum of a fan and saw a little red through his eyelids before they slowly fluttered open. “Grmm…?” He turned his head from side to side. He was in a hospital room; sanitized and sterilely white. He inhaled slowly, feeling his chest aching terribly. “Ugh…” he groaned. The nurse that was in the room checking his file looked up, stunned. “Y-You’re awake! Thank goodness! I need to alert the doctor!” she said, hurrying off and out the door. A few moments later, the doctor and a couple of other nurses entered. “Welcome back, Frederic,” the doctor said. “We thought we had lost you for a while there,” he said. “Wh… what do you mean?” Frederic asked weakly. “You lost quite a bit of blood there from that cut on your head, sport. Not to mention you’ve got a nasty concussion. You lost consciousness due to blood loss, and with a concussion, well…” the doctor said. “‘Well’ what?” Frederic asked. “Well, a concussion can be a fairly severe, at times fatal injury. It can cause encephalitis, or inflammation of the brain. If the brain swells to a certain point it can be lethal. Normally when a pony falls asleep or loses consciousness with a concussion… there’s a good chance they don’t wake up,” the doctor said seriously. The gravity of the situation finally hit Frederic, the stallion staring at his hooves. “You mean… I almost died?” Frederic asked. “Thankfully, not in this case. Your vitals stabilized after we gave you an emergency transfusion. What’s great is that your blood type is AB positive, meaning you can receive a transfusion from anypony. We just weren’t sure if you were going to wake up again,” the doctor stated. “Tell me, do you remember any of the events from earlier this afternoon?” he asked, drawing a notepad and pen. “Well, I remember leaving Sugarcube Corner… I remember hearing a loud bang, and I remember Sweetie Belle flying towards me, then…” Suddenly a sharp pain hit Frederic, causing him to wince. “After that it’s a blank…” The doctor nodded as he wrote down what Frederic told him. “Typical symptoms of a concussion. You may experience sporadic memory loss and headaches.” “What about Sweetie Belle? Is she okay?” Frederic asked, concerned. “She’s just fine, just a small hoof fracture,” the doctor said with a light chuckle. “Don’t stress yourself, you don’t want to pop a staple,” he said. “A staple? You had to staple my head closed?” Frederic asked, turning pale. “It was the fastest way to get the wound shut and stop the bleeding,” the doctor explained. “The good thing is that it’s near the crown of your head so the scar won’t be visible unless it’s looked for,” he said. “Now, the most important thing for you right now is to stay calm and not stress yourself. I also need you to stay awake for a while. We can’t have you going back to sleep until your brain scans come back. I’m going to prescribe you a drip of some amphetamines through your IV to keep you up.” “Okay…” Frederic said, nodding. “If you need to get up, please call for help. You have a few cracked ribs, so the last thing we both need is for you to make that worse,” the doctor added. “A concussion and cracked ribs?” “Well, judging by the story I got from Sweetie Belle, she collided with you helmet-first right into your chest. The receptionist noted you were having difficulty breathing, so we did an X-Ray while you were out and the image showed two cracked ribs on your upper left rib-cage and two by the sternum on the right side. That is going to be a more difficult recovery, so the less you fight it, the better,” he advised. “Oh,” said Frederic. “Will I be able to dance?” “I don’t see why not,” the doctor said. “once you’ve recovered, that is.” “Good, ‘cause I couldn’t before,” he said dryly. The doctor gave a hearty laugh. “Good to know you’ve still got your sense of humor.” “I’m not so sure. That might be the concussion.” “Two for two, Frederic,” the doctor said, making a few notes. “I’ll be back in a while to check on you. You can have visitors as long as they don’t cause a ruckus or make you uncomfortable,” the doctor said as he left. “Understood,” Frederic said. The nurse came and changed the IV bag, switching it to the amphetamines the doctor had prescribed. Frederic felt himself feel more alert and awake after a short while. It was then that there was a gentle knock at the door. “Come in,” Frederic said softly. In trotted Scootaloo, sporting a black eye from her crash landing in the tree. Applebloom entered next, looking very humbled and disciplined. Sweetie Belle entered last, completing the set, walking on a crutch to support her broken hoof. They were followed by Rainbow Dash, Applejack and Rarity, who all looked exceedingly upset at the fillies. “Ya know why we’re here, so get to it already,” Rainbow Dash said, nudging Scootaloo forward. “You heard her, get to it,” Applejack mirrored sternly to Applebloom. “Now,” Rarity enforced, Sweetie Belle gently approaching the edge of his bed. “We’re sorry you got hurt…” the fillies all said in unison. “We didn’t mean for that to happen! It just… kinda did,” Scootaloo said sadly. Frederic could tell that there was no intentional harm meant by the fillies. “We just got caught up in trying to find our cutie marks… again,” Applebloom added dejectedly. “We didn’t think this would happen…” “I’m so sorry, Frederic,” Sweetie Belle squeaked, on the verge of tears. “You got hurt because of me, and—and I—” Sweetie Belle stopped when she felt Frederic ruffle her mane gently. “Hey, it’s alright,” said Frederic. “I wasn’t watching where I was going…” He blinked. “Look both ways before you cross…” he said with a small chuckle, wincing from the pain. “Thank you for saving me,” Sweetie Belle said earnestly. “I don’t know where I’d be if you weren’t standing there,” she said. “Well, better me than you, right?” Frederic said. “Better not at all…” Sweetie said sadly. “Well, as long as you learned from this, then I’m not upset,” Frederic said. “...You did learn from this, didn’t you?” he said, feigning being upset. The fillies all nodded frantically, Frederic smiling. “Then all’s well. Also, I get free hospital food.” “Uhh, but there are hospital bills,” said Rainbow Dash. “If you need help, let me know. I can pull a couple of strings if I need to. I’ve been here more times than I have feathers on my wings.” “Oh… right… well, I’ve been saving my bits so I think I should be okay,” said Frederic. “Well… at least there’s the food?” “You don’t want any of what they’re servin’. I’ll bring by some apples for you tomorrow,” Applejack offered. “It’s the least we can do,” she said. “Applebloom will bring them to you,” she said, looking at her younger sister. “Right, Applebloom?” The filly nodded in response, feeling a little better now that there was a way for her to help out. “I can help!” Scootaloo offered. “Is it okay if I help?” she asked, turning to Applejack. “Sure thing, Scoots. That’s a very kind gesture,” Applejack said. “Thank you, all of you, I appreciate you all being willing to help,” Frederic said. “I hate to be discourteous, but if it’s alright I’d like to rest,” he said. “I can’t necessarily sleep but some time to just close my eyes would be nice.” “Gotcha,” Rainbow Dash said. “C’mon Scoots, let’s go,” she said, to which Scootaloo quietly obeyed. Applejack and Applebloom followed suit, leaving Sweetie Belle and Rarity. “I don’t really have anything to offer you to help, but maybe this will be enough,” Sweetie Belle said as she gently laid her crutch down, edged closer to Frederic and gave him a gentle hug. Frederic smiled, patting the filly on the back. “Thank you, that really means a lot Sweetie,” Frederic said. Sweetie Belle smiled, grabbing her crutch. “Wait for me outside, Sweetie. I’d like to talk to Frederic alone,” Rarity said. “Okay,” Sweetie said, exiting the room. Rarity moved over to the edge of the bed. “Thank you, Frederic,” Rarity said. “Thank you so much for both saving Sweetie Belle and getting her the help she needed. I don’t know what I’d do if something were to happen to her!” “It was the only thing to do,” said Frederic. “What was the other option? Not do it?” “Even so, the fact that you selflessly risked your own well-being for hers is a debt I can’t even fathom repaying,” Rarity said. “When I found out that you and Sweetie had gotten hurt, I… I had no idea what to do with myself,” she said, her voice shaking. “The idea that I could have lost one or both of you was just too much…” she said, wiping an eye. “Well, as long as I don’t pass out, that won’t be a problem,” said Frederic, smiling. “And I’m feeling okay, so…” “What did the doctor say?” Rarity asked. “Well… apparently I have a few cracked ribs, I suffered a concussion, and I had a cut on my head bad enough to require a transfusion and staples to close it,” Frederic repeated. Rarity’s face fell, the mare giving a sad sigh. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” Rarity said. “If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask me,” she said. “You’ll be the first pony I reach out to, rest assured,” Frederic said, trying to adjust himself but finding difficulty. “Do you need help?” Rarity offered. “Perhaps a little, I’m just a bit uncomfortable,” Frederic replied. She leaned over the bed, gently helping him where possible to make sure he was comfortable. “Thank you, that’s better.” “Think nothing of it. If you’re alright with it, I’ll stop by throughout the day for the next few days to help you if you need it,” Rarity said. “I don’t see a problem with it, personally,” Frederic said. “Another thing—have your parents been informed?” Rarity asked. Frederic then thought about it. “I should probably tell my parents…” Frederic said. “If you could send them a letter I’d appreciate it,” he said. “Say no more. I just need your parents’ address and to whom I’m addressing it to,” Rarity said. “I’ll deliver it myself if I have to,” she assured. She then conjured a small notepad and pen. “The address is 540 Canterlot Court, Canterlot, Equestria. My father’s name is Henri F. Horseshoepin,” Frederic dictated as Rarity wrote it down. “Done, I’ll send the letter straight away,” Rarity said. “Oh… and one more thing,” she said. She then leaned over the edge of the bed, giving Frederic a gentle kiss on the cheek. Frederic felt his head ache as his face flushed a bright pink. Rarity blushed brightly as well, smiling. “Just a small reward for saving my little sister,” she said with a wink. “Well…” he said, laughing a little. “Do I say ‘thank you’ or ‘you’re welcome’?” “Get better and we’ll talk about it,” Rarity said with a smirk. “Get some rest, okay? No falling asleep. I’ll be back in the morning with a change of clothes for you,” she said. “My keys should be there by the door,” Frederic said. Rarity grabbed his keys, tucking them away into her pouch. “See you in the morning,” Rarity said. “See you,” Frederic said as the door closed. He raised a hoof to where Rarity had kissed him, a smile etched on his face. Once Rarity had returned home, she quickly got to work. She grabbed a quill and parchment, scribbling down the notice that Frederic had requested she send to his parents. She signed it, sealed it, and sent it away with magic. “The sooner they get here, the better,” she said to herself. “I wonder what his parents are like…” Rarity quietly sat across from Frederic, humming to herself as she did minor threadwork on a pair of hoof-mittens she was fixing for Sweetie Belle. Frederic was resting quietly, finally able to sleep after the doctor had cleared him to do so. “Please Sweetie Belle, do try to keep these away from Opal this time,” she said. “Okay… she looked really cute in them, though...” Sweetie replied softly. “This cast itches!” “Well, let that itchiness be a reminder next time you want to try something like that again,” Rarity said. The two ponies looked up, suddenly hearing a commotion in the hallway. It sounded like two ponies frantically looking for somepony. Rarity set down the mittens and made her way to the door, Sweetie grabbing her crutches and following her older sister. Rarity opened the door, coming to find two very lost, very frantic ponies. “He has to be here somewhere, Orianne! Relax!” the stallion said, peering at his wife through his glasses. “Mon bebe!” the mare cried out, her green eyes darting left and right behind a mane of bright gold and ruby strands. “Where is my baby!? Where is my Frederic!?” “Frederic?” Rarity asked. “Are you Frederic’s parents?” The two ponies looked over at her, quickly making their way over to her. “Yes, we are! Do you know where he is?” the stallion asked. “Wait, are you Rarity?” “Yes, I am, he’s right through—” Rarity started, but was suddenly stopped when the mare swept her up in a tight embrace. “Oh, merci étoiles bénies de Luna!” Orianne said. “We are so lucky that Frederic found himself such a loving marefriend that would go out of her way to inform us of his predicament in his stead!” Rarity blushed such a bright shade of red she almost matched Orianne’s mane. “M-Marefriend!? I-I—no, I’m not—” Rarity stammered, embarrassed. “Orianne, please, vous embarrassez la pauvre fille!” the stallion said. “I do apologize, Rarity. My name is Henri. Henri Francois Horseshoepin, Frederic’s father,” he said, introducing himself. Henri was a rather handsome stallion for his age, his black mane sprinkled with streaks of white offset by a light brown coat and golden eyes. Orianne let go of Rarity, recomposing herself. “I apologize as well, I am Orianne Cerise Horseshoepin, Frederic’s mother,” she added. Frederic’s mother was stunning. Her ivory white coat matched Rarity’s, punctuated with forest green irises and a mane mixed with ruby and gold. “It’s quite alright,” Rarity said with a small, slightly awkward laugh. Sweetie Belle then approached, trying to figure out what was going on. “Who are they?” Sweetie asked. Orianne took notice of the filly, suddenly seeing a great resemblance between Rarity and Sweetie Belle, and her jaw about fell off. “Is—is—is that your daughter? My grandchild!?” Orianne asked, shocking Rarity even further. “Henri, je me sens faible!” she said, gesturing to her husband as her knees buckled. “Daughter!?” Rarity and Sweetie Belle gasped. “I didn’t come out of that!” Sweetie Belle exclaimed. “Sweetie Belle!” Rarity chided, to which Sweetie recoiled. “She—she’s my little sister, I promise!” Henri rolled his eyes at his wife’s over-theatrics. Orianne shook herself to regain her footing, taking a deep breath and exhaling. “I am terribly sorry for the misunderstanding, I… I just have not been well since we received your letter. Please, let me see Frederic,” Orianne begged. “Oh, of course, please come in!” Rarity said, ushering the couple into the hospital room. What the two saw broke their hearts. Orianne quietly approached Frederic, gently brushing his mane from his face while he slept. “Oh… my poor, little baby boy,” she murmured, choking back tears as she leaned forward, giving her son a gentle kiss on his forehead. Henri remained silent. He approached the other side of Frederic’s bed, gently taking his hoof. “My son…” Henri said with a heavy sigh. Frederic stirred slightly, sighing contentedly as his eyes slowly opened. The peaceful, dreamy smile on his face broke as his expression took on a look of near-mortification. Orianne gasped in elation as Frederic awoke. “What is this?” asked Frederic in a shocked near-monotone. “Oh, Frederic! You’re awake! My baby’s awake!” Orianne exclaimed as she held him close, unable to contain her joy. “Thank the Princesses…” Henri said, placing a hoof to his chest. “We were so worried when we received Rarity’s letter that we came as quickly as we could,” he explained. “I feel like a terrible mother! I should have been here sooner!” Orianne said, looking Frederic over as if she was hoping to find something the doctors had not. “I’m… fine…” said Frederic. “I just hit my head.” Orianne parted his mane, seeing the staples that were put in place, her jaw falling slack for a moment. She then looked at Frederic again, her eyes welling with fresh tears. “I’m just so happy my baby’s okay,” Orianne squeaked, gently cradling Frederic’s head to her chest. “Je ne sais pas ce que je ferais si je te perdais…” “Yes… Yes I know,” said Frederic, trying to not appear ungrateful but also having just a little difficulty containing his embarrassment. Orianne then looked to Rarity again, who had quietly retaken her seat so as not to interrupt the touching moment unfolding before her. “Rarity, I cannot thank you enough for what you’ve done,” Orianne said, taking Rarity’s hooves into her own. “Believe me, it was no trouble at all,” Rarity said. “Please excuse my forwardness, but... what exactly happened to Frederic?” Henri asked. “I can tell you, but before I do, I feel the need to inform you that part of the reason Frederic is in this state is due to an accident that my little sister was involved in,” Rarity said, Sweetie Belle scooting closer to her. “It was an accident, I swear! I was just trying to get my cutie-mark with my friends and it went really, really wrong and Frederic saved me and—” Sweetie Belle stammered, her voice dripping with anxiety and guilt. Orianne stooped low to meet the filly, calmly running a gentle hoof through Sweetie’s mane. Sweetie Belle felt herself relax, gazing into the mare’s deep green eyes. “S'il te plaît, n'ais pas peur. Je ne suis pas en colère avec toi,” Orianne said softly, “I’m certain a filly as sweet as yourself didn’t mean any harm,” she said. “I would never hurt anypony! Frederic saved my life!” Sweetie Belle said. “Oh? How did he manage that?” Henri asked. “He caught me before I hit the ground, and all that happened was I broke a hoof,” Sweetie Belle said, showing her cast. “He then carried me to the hospital even though he was hurt…” she said. Both Orianne and Henri gave each other prideful smiles “It’s like I said before, what was I supposed to do? Not help?” Frederic said. “It is that precise line of thinking that makes us proud, Frederic,” Henri said with a smile. “Excellent job, my son.” “It is because of your son that my sister is still with me here today, and that is something I cannot thank him for enough,” Rarity said with a slight blush. Orianne noticed this, internally making a note of it and tucking it away in the back of her mind. Sweetie Belle then spoke up. “Can we get something to eat? I’m starving!” Sweetie Belle said. “That sounds like a marvelous idea, Sweetie,” Rarity said. “Please, allow me to buy your lunch, it is the absolute least I can do to thank you for your help,” Orianne offered. “Oh, I couldn’t accept that, Madam Horseshoepin,” Rarity said bashfully. “Please, I insist,” Orianne said. “And please, my dear, call me ‘Orianne’,” she said with a charming smile. Rarity gave it some thought, then smiled herself. “Oh, alright,” Rarity said with a polite nod. “Tres bien!” Orianne said. “We’ll be back soon!” she said cheerily as the mares left, leaving Frederic alone with his father, who took a seat across from him. “I want you to know I’m very proud of you, Frederic,” Henri said. “Thank you, but… I don’t quite understand,” Frederic said. “The fact that you risked your life to save a filly, putting her safety above your own—putting another pony before yourself at risk of your own wellbeing—that is one of the biggest acts of kindness one pony can do for another, and the fact that you acted so valiantly in a moment of adversity simply validates that your mother and I raised you right,” Henri explained. “You have grown to be such an upstanding, good-hearted stallion, Frederic. I am so proud,” he said, gently patting Frederic’s shoulder. “Thank you, father… that means a lot,” Frederic said. “Of course,” Henri said. “I must say though, that Rarity is a darling filly. If I were you, I wouldn’t let her get away,” he advised. “In reading her letter I could tell her concern for you was genuine. Those feelings were confirmed when I saw how she spoke about you just now.” “What do you mean?” Frederic asked, his heart beating a bit faster in his chest. Perhaps his father could give him a little more insight when it came to Rarity. “When I was a colt, your grandfather once taught me, ‘La bouche peut mentir, mais les yeux mement jamais’,” Henri said. “While she may have verbally denied being your marefriend, her eyes told a different story. Whether she is unaware of it or she has yet to come to terms with it, I believe that soon enough, the friendship the two of you have will not be enough,” he said. Frederic swallowed, his heart thumping in his chest. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that knowledge. “How are you so sure?” “Call it a hunch,” Henri said with a wink. Rarity, Sweetie Belle, and Orianne made their way out of the hospital, heading towards a nearby restaurant. They sat down to eat, enjoying their meals and chatting with one another. “So, how did you come to know my son?” asked Orianne. “Oh, we’ve known each other for… a little while,” said Rarity, thinking on it. “Not all that long. We met at the Grand Galloping Gala a while back. He’s been staying in Ponyville lately.” “How nice,” Orianne said with a cheery smile. “I remember how excited he was to move here. He had been talking for months about ‘striking out on his own’ and ‘making a name for himself’. I worry for him, though… he was such a timid, little thing as a colt.” “He played at my birthday party!” said Sweetie Belle. “Did he now? That was very nice of him,” Orianne said with a smile. “Frederic doesn’t normally do parties for foals… you must be very special for him to make an exception like that.” “Oh, it was nothing,” said Rarity. “He’d come to me for a suit, and the playing was his way of paying for it.” “That seems like an even exchange,” Orianne said. She took a moment to look Rarity over, taking in her features. My my, Frederic… you’ve really angled a beautiful mare, haven’t you? “Most assuredly, and he did a marvelous job of it as well!” Rarity said. “I daresay he’s a virtuoso that the piano, I’ve never felt a piano piece come alive the way they do when Frederic performs,” she added. Not to mention she’s over the moon for him! Orianne thought. “Oh yes, he inherited his skill from his father. Henri lives and breathes the ivory keys, and he taught Frederic everything he knows about the piano, though I do at times feel Henri was a little too strict on him.” “How so?” Rarity asked, curious. “Oh, musician parents,” said Orianne. “An hour a day, three hours a day, five hours a day. That’s what you have to do to do what Frederic does, I suppose.” “My, that does sound intensive,” Rarity said. “Though I do relate. Sometimes my dress-work can take hours, days even to get done, so I know what it’s like to slave away at something for the sake of what you love,” she mused. “Oh, you make dresses? I would love to see your work sometime! You must invite me over when you have the opportunity,” Orianne said with a sweet smile. “Oh, of course, anytime darling!” Rarity said demurely. Orianne then examined her recently-delivered cup of tea, still steaming slightly. “Rarity… I must thank you. Thank you so much for watching over Frederic in his time of need.” “Oh, it’s the least I can do,” said Rarity. “After all, what he did for my sister… how could I not repay him?” “Frederic never really had many friends growing up, so it does my heart so much good to see other ponies caring for him as much as Henri and I do,” Orianne said. “Well, why wouldn’t we? He’s a good pony,” Sweetie Belle added. “Yes, he is, and as his mother, I can tell you this: the two of you must mean a great deal to him if he was willing to go so far for you,” Orianne said. “One thing you will come to learn about Frederic is that he never does anything half-way. He either does, or he doesn’t. The fact that he did, means more than you know.” “Yay!” Sweetie Belle cheered, happy to know that she was special to Frederic. “D-Do you really think so?” Rarity asked carefully, a small blush brightening her cheeks. “I know so,” Orianne said with a wink. “Well… that’s certainly good to know...” Rarity said, unable to keep from smiling. She internally tucked away Orianne’s words into the back of her mind. I wonder just how much I mean to him... “Speaking of your dresses, would it be too much for me to come by tomorrow?” Orianne asked. “Tomorrow? I don’t see why not, but aren’t you going back home tonight?” Rarity asked, confused. “Henri may be going home, but I refuse to leave Frederic until I know he’s home and resting,” Orianne said firmly. “My boy needs his mother, and his mother he shall get!” “Oh!” said Rarity, wondering just how Frederic would take it. After all, he seemed to be a little embarrassed back in the hospital room. “Do you have someplace you’re staying?” “Why, where else?” she asked. “With my son, of course!” “Of course, silly me,” Rarity said with a small laugh. It was then that Sweetie Belle spoke up. “Rarity, I’m tired, I’m gonna head home,” Sweetie said. “Alright, but that had better be the only place you go. Remember, you’re still in trouble for what happened,” Rarity reminded. “You had better be there when I get home” she said. “It was lovely to meet you, Sweetie Belle,” said Orianne, bowing graciously. “It was nice to meet you, too! Thanks for not being mad at me,” Sweetie said with a smile. “Oh, how could I ever be mad at that adorable little face of yours? Even if it did put my son in the hospital,” Orianne said. “Heh… heh…. yeah…” Sweetie Belle said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Sweetie Belle then left, hobbling back towards the Boutique on her crutch. “She’s really a good filly, she just gets in over her head,” Rarity explained. “She’s so dead-set on getting her cutie mark that the excitement gets away from her,” she said. “Not a moment goes by where I don’t worry for her…” “Oh, I understand my dear, Frederic was the same way, if a great deal less aggressive about getting his,” Orianne said, reminiscing. “I remember how frustrated he would get when he would try something new and nothing would come of it. I spent many a day with him nestled against me because he would get so upset he’d dissolve into tears,” she said fondly. “Then one day, I went to pick him up from my father-in-law’s, and he met me at the door with a smile that could have lit all of Equestria and the two, brand new quavers he had on his flank.” “What a lovely memory to have,” Rarity said. “I can only imagine what it will be like when it comes time for me to be in that position, though I daresay that is still a good ways away,” she said with a small laugh. “Oh…” She beamed. “Maybe not as far off as you think.” Rarity blushed brightly at Orianne’s remark. “W-whatever do you mean?” Rarity asked, a bit flustered. “Oh, nothing,” she said, a wry smile playing across her face. She looked to the clock. “I think I will go see to my husband. It was lovely chatting with you. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other soon.” “Y-yes… yes, of course…” Rarity said, her heart fluttering in her chest. She couldn’t possibly have meant Frederic… could she…? She is so darling! Frederic, you’d better not let her get away! Orianne thought to herself as she adjourned herself from the table. “Au revoir, Rarity!” she said with a smile. “Good evening…” Rarity said as Orianne left, leaving her to her thoughts. Orianne returned to Frederic’s hospital room, finding her husband quietly reading the newspaper as Frederic slept. “You can head home if you like, Henri. I’ll be staying with Frederic until he is home comfortably,” Orianne said. “Are you sure? Maybe we should have him come home with us,” Henri suggested. “No, no, I don’t want to inconvenience him to that extent,” Orianne said. “Very well. Send a letter once he’s home. Let Frederic know I went home when he wakes up,” Henri said. “Of course dear,” Orianne said. “I will see you in a few days,” she said. “See you then, mon amour,” Henri said. They shared a quick kiss, and Henri took his leave. Orianne took the seat that Henri had previously occupied, retrieving a ball of yarn and her crocheting needles, deciding to occupy herself until Frederic awoke. After about an hour in silence, a small knock at the door, grabbing both Orianne and Frederic’s attention. “Did you enjoy your nap, Frederic?” Orianne asked as she stood up to answer the door. “I’ve been awake the entire time.” “You have?” Orianne said. “I must’ve been so engrossed in my crocheting I didn’t notice you had opened your eyes—or were you just resting?” Orianne then answered the door. “May I help you?” “Oh, we’re here to see Frederic,” a familiar voice said from the other side of the door, sounding just like Vinyl. “Unfortunately we heard a little late that he had been hospitalized. We would have come sooner,” another voice said, sounding alarmingly like Octavia. Oh no, I don’t need this now… Frederic thought. I can’t let her see me like this! He gave a small groan of discomfort as he shifted in bed. Orianne took note of this, turning back to the mares. “I suppose you can come in for a little while. All I ask is that you do not cause him to over-exert himself,” Orianne said. “Thank you,” Octavia said. She looked at the mare standing before her, feeling a strange sense of familiarity about her. “I’m sorry, but have we met before? I feel as if I know you from somewhere,” she asked. “Well, I am Frederic’s mother Orianne,” she replied. “I believe I have met you as well, now that I think about it,” she said. “We have met, though it was a long time ago. I’m Octavia,” she said. “I haven’t,” said Vinyl. “But, uh… maybe I’d like to,” she said, raising her eyebrows. Octavia shook her head, and Orianne played it off magnificently. “Wish granted, you’ve met me,” Orianne said cooly. “I do remember you now, Octavia. You perform often with Frederic, do you not?” “Well, yes,” said Octavia. “We’re close colleagues.” “They’re in some kind of avant-garde quartet,” said Vinyl. “Since when do you know what avant-garde means?” asked Frederic. “Since Octavia put on a record of some guy named Steel Cage,” said Vinyl, a little exasperation in her voice. “You poor thing…” Frederic mused. “She earned it,” Octavia said. “She dropped and cracked one of my records, so her punishment was to listen to Steel Cage’s ‘5’27’ in one sitting.” “Nothing happened! That’s not music!” Vinyl protested. “For the hundredth time, it’s called ‘silence in intervals’ Vinyl,” Octavia explained. “It’s just white noise,” Vinyl said. “It’s not ‘avant-garde’, it’s not ‘music’, it’s not anything!” “Please, no…” said Frederic. “I left this behind in my university music history class…” “Moving on from that, what happened to you, Frederic? How badly did you get hurt?” Octavia asked. “Well, I suffered a blow to the head that caused a concussion and a cut that required staples to seal shut, I suffered a few cracked ribs and bruising under the skin as well as compressed lungs because my sternum was pushed in slightly,” Frederic said, recounting the prognosis from the doctor. Orianne’s eyes went wide as she heard Frederic speak. “A concussion?!” Orianne exclaimed. “Cracked ribs!? Why wasn’t I told this!?” “Oh, that wasn’t in the letter?” asked Frederic. “Huh.” “That wasn’t Rarity’s responsibility!” Orianne said. “I’m your mother, you should tell me these things! Par les etoiles, I had no idea you were this badly hurt!” she said, exasperated. Orianne’s head then whipped to the side, staring directly at Vinyl, who was snickering to herself at the sight of Frederic getting scolded by his mother. “And what are you laughing at?!” Orianne chided forcefully. Vinyl stood stark straight, her expression one of shock. “N-Nothing, ma’am, I’m sorry,” Vinyl said, swallowing hard. “‘Nothing’ is right!” Orianne scoffed. “Sit!” she ordered, pointing at the seat, to which Vinyl obeyed. While Frederic was embarrassed that Vinyl was having a bit of fun at his expense, he thoroughly enjoyed watching his mother come to his defense. Octavia was impressed at how effortlessly Orianne was able to discipline Vinyl. Maybe I should take notes… Octavia thought to herself. “Octy… she’s scary,” Vinyl squeaked. “Of course I’m scary,” said Orianne. “I’m a mother. You will both understand a mother's methods one day,” she added. “Mother, if I could have a word…?” Frederic said, gesturing to her. Orianne approached him, and he whispered in her ear. “Of course, my dear,” Orianne said. She then faced Octavia and Vinyl. “I need both of you to leave for the moment. Frederic needs to use the restroom,” she stated. “Mother!” Frederic sighed, embarrassed. Vinyl nodded frantically, practically shooting out of her seat. Octavia followed after her. “She is terrifying,” said Vinyl. “Gorgeous, but terrifying.” “Well, that’s what you get for laughing at a stallion in the hospital,” Octavia said honestly. “But it’s Fred, he’s our favorite hopeless romantic,” Vinyl sighed. “That shouldn’t make a difference,” Octavia said. “Though it does make me happy to see you’re concerned for him, considering how upset you were at him not long ago,” she added. “Well… nopony deserves whatever happened to him,” Vinyl shrugged. “He may have done something dumb, but he’s not a bad guy. I mean, I still think of him as a friend.” “I’m glad,” Octavia said. “As long as it continues to be that way, then I don’t have an issue.” “Sure… just make sure she doesn’t hurt me,” Vinyl said with a shudder. “As long as you behave, I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about.” Orianne emerged from Frederic’s room shortly thereafter, approaching Octavia and Vinyl. “I think Frederic has had enough visitors for today. He and I both appreciate you coming by to see him,” she said. “It was no trouble at all. I just feel bad for not coming by sooner,” Octavia admitted. “The fact that you showed up at all is what matters,” Orianne said with a smile. She then rounded on Vinyl, taking on a stoic expression. “Did we learn our lesson?” “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry for laughing, it won’t happen again,” Vinyl said. “As long as you understand,” Orianne said with a wink. “I did not mean to be so tough. Once you become a mother, you will understand why I got the way I did,” she said. “Maybe some day,” Vinyl said. “Have a good evening fillies,” Orianne said as she re-entered Frederic’s room, shutting the door behind her. Orianne shut the door behind her, then retaking her seat. “Do you need anything else, Frederic?” she asked. “Not at the moment, Mother… though, I am curious, where did Father go?” Frederic asked. “Oh, he’s catching the train home,” she said. “I’ll be staying.” “‘Staying’?” Frederic repeated incredulously. “At first I thought I’d just be staying for a couple of days and see you out of the hospital,” she said. “But a concussion and cracked ribs?” She shook her head. “I will not leave until I know you're recovering well enough on your own.” “Oh… swell…” Frederic said as he laid back, staring at the ceiling and wondering what immortal being he had crossed to deserve such a fate. “So many pretty mares in your life, Frederic,” she said. “I’m quite amazed you aren’t married yet.” “Marriage is the last thing on my mind, Mother…” Frederic sighed. “If anything, I’m trying not to think about it,” he said. “Well, I wouldn’t rule it out,” Orianne suggested. “If you’ll have your mother’s opinion, I most definitely favor Rarity, hooves down,” she said. Frederic gingerly sat up, looking at his mother. “Well… I have things I’m dealing with before I consider going down that road,” Frederic said. “Oh? Like what?” Orianne asked. Frederic sighed. “Before I do anything else, I’m trying to get over somepony,” Frederic said. Orianne looked at Frederic, scowling. “Did somepony break up with you? Did she break your heart? Give me a name Frederic and I promise I will make it easier for you! Aucun poney ne brise le cœur de mon fils!” she growled in her native tongue. “We didn’t ‘break up’, it’s more of a ‘what could have been’ sort of scenario,” Frederic explained. “You let a mare get away?” “Mother, not while I’m in the hospital with a concussion…” “Well, her loss!” Orianne said indignantly. “You don’t need ponies like that in your life, Frederic. Take it from me, you’ll be better off! I certainly hope I never meet that mare!” You already have, Frederic thought to himself. “Whatever the case may be, I want to get over her before I consider anything with Rari—” Frederic caught himself. Orianne stifled a giggle as Frederic blushed. “You were going to say ‘Rarity’! Oh, I knew I felt a connection there,” Orianne said with a smile. “You mustn’t let her get away, Frederic. She’s a wonderful, good-hearted and good-natured filly that seems to have been brought up well, she’d make a wonderful addition to the family! I’m only getting older, Frederic, I’d like to have a grandfoal before I’m in a walker,” she stated. “Really, Mother? Now? You want to have this conversation now, when I’m bedridden?” Frederic groaned. “What better time than now? You can’t get away,” Orianne said with a laugh, to which Frederic sighed. “In all seriousness Frederic, it’s obvious there’s something there. You would do well to build on it,” she added. “Whatever the case, I’m not making any decisions until I’m over Octavi—” Frederic started, then stopped when he realized he had accidentally blurted out her name. Damn it! he cursed inwardly. “You mean to tell me that Octavia was the one you were after? Oh, mon cher, she’s lovely and all, but it’s painfully obvious she loves that mare she was with,” Orianne stated. “I’m aware of that, Mother, it’s why I’m trying to get over her,” Frederic said. “The fact of the matter is this—until I’m over Octavia, I do not plan to pursue anypony until that is said and done with, even if Rarity…” He grumbled. “...may be a possibility. It wouldn’t be fair to her for me to be hanging on an old flame while trying to start a new one,” he reasoned. Orianne smiled at her son, pleased with what she was hearing. “An excellent point,” Orianne said. “Whatever makes you happy, my dear,” she said. “...even if Rarity seems like the best choice…” she mumbled under her breath. “...” Frederic elected not to respond. “I’m going to nap for a while…” he said, having had enough of the conversation. “Very well, enjoy your nap,” Orianne said. “You know I only say what I do because I love you, right?” she asked. “...I know,” Frederic said after a moment of silence. “Good,” said Orianne. She then approached him, giving him a kiss on his forehead. She then returned to her seat as he gingerly rolled over, closing his eyes. “Je t’aime, Frederic,” she said softly. “...Moi aussi,” Frederic responded. Orianne smiled, returning to her crocheting as Frederic fell asleep.