Twilight watched as Marjoram turned the page in his current book, his brows furrowed in concentration. Twilight couldn’t see the cover of the book, since it was laying down on the table, but she knew it was one of the books Celestia had given Marjoram to help him with the magic.
Twilight knew the magical energies within Marjoram’s body and horn had been forced into place, and as such, Marjoram’s horn didn’t need to stop the magic from the magic trying to hurt anypony while the magic was released back into the world. However, Marjoram had strung the ring on a chain, and wore it around his neck. Twilight didn’t know if it was supposed to be a reminder, or a just in case, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know for certain.
As much as Marjoram had improved physically, Twilight could tell there was something wrong otherwise, be it mentally or emotionally. Twilight couldn’t point a hoof at what exactly was wrong, but she knew something was. Twilight watched Marjoram over the cover of her own book, wondering what he was learning.
Celestia had refused to tell Twilight anything about what she was teaching Marjoram, and Marjoram was silent about it as well. All Twilight knew was that the spells were mostly illegal, and that Marjoram wasn’t going to get in trouble for casting them. Twilight itched to know what was going on with her mentors, but knew it was better to keep her muzzle out of it.
Celestia had also not mentioned a suitable punishment for Twilight, despite her earlier warning. As much as Twilight worried about her future, she was happy to see that Marjoram didn’t seem to be suffering long-lasting effects.
“What do you want, Twilight?” Marjoram asked suddenly, looking up from his book.
Twilight started, nearly dropping her book, “I-I’m sorry…just thinking.”
“Excited for the feast tonight?” Marjoram changed the subject, not wanting to press Twilight further.
“I’m sad my friends have to go back to Ponyville tomorrow morning, but yes. I’m excited for everything. Spike’s even more excited, you should see him chatting with the girls....it’s pretty cute.”
Marjoram nodded, “He’s young. And he’s bound to get more than four presents this year. It’s exciting for anypony.”
“Did you buy him something?” Twilight asked, “For tonight?”
“Of course. I found a few of the Power Pony comics he likes, the old ones. I’m painting him something for actual Hearth’s Warming.”
“He’ll like that. He’s mentioned a few times that the library doesn’t have the personal touches our room here has.”
Marjoram nodded, “I figured. He’s dealt really well with the changes, but I think it’ll be nice to make the library feel a little more like home for him.”
Twilight nodded, “Yeah. Are you excited?” She asked hesitantly, not wanting the conversation to end, but also not sure what else they could talk about.
Marjoram said nothing for almost an entire minute, making Twilight’s cheeks burn red with embarrassment. Should I not have asked him that?
“I don’t know, Twilight. I don’t know if I’m excited to spend an evening with them. I don’t know how they feel about me after everything that’s happened. Though, I’m happy you’re excited,” Marjoram’s lips quirked into a crooked smile, “That’s what matters, making sure my family is happy.”
Twilight blinked, “But we’re not related.”
“We might as well be,” Marjoram retorted, “Over ten years, Twilight. We’ve known each other for over ten years. That is one third of my life, and over half of yours. That isn’t an insignificant amount of time-”
Twilight recognized the slight hint of panic that was rising in Marjoram’s voice, and realized he was right. They were more than student and teacher and more than friends, their lives so intrinsically entwined that Twilight hadn’t even noticed. They practically raised Spike themselves, with lots of advice and help from Shores and Celestia, and had lived just a hallway apart for the majority of the year, for ten years.
Twilight loved Shining and her parents, but she wasn’t as close to them as she could be, since her studies took so much of her time. Marjoram, without Twilight realizing it, had become a second brother, or perhaps an eccentric uncle.
Breaking out of her thoughts, Twilight realized Marjoram’s panic had only grown during her silence. His normal, calm demeanor had melted away, leaving a slightly panicked, wide-eyed look on his face. Twilight didn’t see this face often, and cleared her throat, stopping Marjoram mid-sentence.
“Marjoram, breathe. I’m sorry, I just...realized that we really are more like family than anything else.”
Marjoram let out a sigh, relaxing, “Good...I just worried I’d put my hoof in my mouth-”
“As if you don’t do that enough already,” Twilight teased, “C’mon, I’m tougher than that. Ten years, remember?”
Marjoram smiled, “Fair enough. Anyway, it’s time we should head over to the private dining room. I might need to rest halfway there, and I don’t want us to be late because of poor timing.”
“Especially with me around. What would ponies think of my organization skills then?”
Marjoram rolled his eyes, and stood, “Enough banter. Let’s go.”
(LINE BREAK)
It would be a lie to say that Celestia wasn’t worried. She knew better than anypony else the awkwardness that would come about from Marjoram’s incident. He had a few tentative friends in Twilight’s friend group, but nothing solid enough to take such a blow without consequence.
With the six personalities fate had brought together, added with Marjoram, Luna, Shores, Spike, and Celestia herself, it was going to be an interesting dinner. Since it wasn’t yet Hearth’s Warming, the meal wouldn’t be quite as extravagant as it was on the actual holiday, but Shores had assured Celestia that preparing something similar to the Hearth’s Warming feast would be good for the newer additions to the kitchen staff. Nonetheless, drama stalked holidays like paparazzi stalked celebrities. It wasn’t good for anypony, since the holiday season was so stressful already, but drama always happened.
Unlike the actual palace feast, this wouldn’t be a formal, black tie affair: it was a meal for friends. They would spend the evening together as friends, then Twilight’s friends would leave the next morning. That would give them nearly two days with their family before Hearth’s Warming Day.
All Celestia had to do now, was to try to ensure that nopony did, or said anything they would later regret. If only it will be that easy. I pray to the creators it is…
The door opened, allowing Shores and Luna to enter the room, both looking more than a little apprehensive.
“Is everything set for the dinner?” Shores asked, “I-I can fly down there quickly to see-”
“You said your staff could handle it. We shouldn’t second-guess them now, should we?”
“No...I suppose not,” Shores took a deep breath, “I just want this to go off without a hitch.”
“You and I both,” Celestia smiled warmly, “Come, sit down. No point making ourselves uncomfortable while we wait for everypony else to arrive. How are you feeling Luna? I trust you got plenty of sleep?”
“Yes we did, sister,” Luna tried to smile, but it came out more of a grimace than anything else, “We’re ready for tonight’s celebration.”
Celestia touched Luna’s shoulder, “You’ll be fine. These ponies are the ones that helped you, remember? They understand, and they don’t harbour any resentment towards you.”
“Even the one that Nightmare Moon hurt? Marjoram?”
“He doesn’t hate anypony,” Shores piped in, “No matter what anypony else might think or say. He finds it a waste of energy.”
“Damn right,” Marjoram said, earning a glare from Twilight as she followed him into the room.
“I thought you hated everypony?” Twilight challenged.
“I dislike many ponies,” Marjoram corrected, “there is a difference, no matter what ponies say. Hating takes too much energy.”
Shores rolled her eyes, “Don’t go telling everypony that, you’re such a pain in the ass that it’ll be almost impossible to get anyone else to be your friend.”
There was a slight hitch, but Marjoram chuckled, “I’ve got enough friends, and I have more family than I ever thought I’d get.”
Shores playfully punched Marjoram in the shoulder, “You can’t have too many friends.”
“You can if you’re chronically ill. Lots of ponies equal lots of germs, which means I’ll catch whatever nasty bug is being spread around.”
“Is that really true?” Luna asked hesitantly, “You would become ill?”
“He has a higher chance than most, it makes him twitchy,” Shores leaned into Marjoram’s side, smiling too sweetly.
Marjoram rolled his eyes, “I am not twitchy, just cautious.”
Luna nodded, “Understandable. Where are the others?”
“Coming,” Twilight replied, “Soon. They’re bringing Spike with them, last I’d heard.”
“Let’s hope so,” Marjoram replied dryly, “He’s going to be angry if they forget him.”
“We couldn’t forget Spike!” Pinkie called as she bounced into the room, Spike clutching tightly to her mane. The moment Pinkie stopped moving, Spike slid off her back, and flopped onto the ground, muttering promises of never asking Pinkie for a ride again.
“That would be horribly rude of us,” Rarity said, holding the door open with her magic for the others as they filed into the room.
Marjoram shuffled his hooves, then sat beside Shores silently, clearly unsure of what to say or do. Everypony else followed, chatting amicably amongst themselves. Celestia sat at the head of the table, with Luna on her right side and Twilight at her left. Marjoram across from Twilight, on Shores’s left side. Spike sat on the other side of Twilight, as the rest of Twilight’s friends filled up the other seats.
Celestia rang a small bell, and the doors opened once more, and several of the wait staff hurried in carrying trays on their backs. The feast was laid before them, in all its glory, and the staff scurried off.
Celestia and Luna started serving themselves first, offering to pass platters down. Twilight, Shores, Spike, and Marjoram followed their lead, telling the others that the meal was no different than any other.
“This all looks amazing,” Twilight gushed, serving Spike some mashed potatoes, “You have to tell the staff they’ve really outdone themselves this year.”
“It’ll be better for the actual feast, dear. This was more of a trial run for the newbies,” Shores replied, “But thank you. I’ll let them know I’ve trained them well.”
Spike was barely holding back from stuffing his face with the palace food he’d grown up with, “Thish ish r’lly go’d!”
“Not with your mouth full!” Marjoram and Twilight scolded in unison. Spike’s cheeks blushed a darker purple, and he swallowed.
Pinkie giggled, “It’s okay, Spike! You’re still a baby dragon!”
Spike rolled his eyes, “Yeah, a baby dragon. I’m not just a baby.”
“Of course you’re not, dear,” Rarity piped in, taking a dainty bite of roasted hay.
Spike pouted, staying quiet instead of raising a fuss at the table. Marjoram shot Twilight a pointed glare, and she nodded, pressing her lips into a thin line.
“What grade level is your reading at?” Marjoram asked, “Last time we checked?”
“It was....grade ten, wasn’t it? First year apprenticeships level?”
Marjoram nodded, “Yes. Math skills?”
“Grade eight; the end of the universal education system for young ponies.”
“Did you wish to continue with that subject?”
“No.”
“What grade level would you be at now, do you think?”
“Probably a little less than my reading. Math isn’t my best subject,” Spike winced at the memories of long math lessons.
“Science?”
“Undetermined. After using the last of the grade eight curriculums you could find, we’ve just been tackling whatever I’ve felt like learning.”
“History, geography, politics, law?”
“Everything but law is the same as science. You know this stuff, why are?-oh,” Spike turned to look at Twilight’s friends for the first time since Marjoram had butt in. They were all staring at the young dragon, in varying states of shock.
Marjoram glared down the table, “Spike is far more advanced in many subjects than most ponies will ever achieve in their lifetime. This is because his intelligence is not the same as ponies, since the early years of dragons are meant for learning and discovering knowledge. The other part is because he lived with the two students Princess Celestia has taken on in the last hundred years. Yes, his extensive book knowledge is hindered by the fact that he’s inexperienced, but the only way to gain experience is time. Spike is ten years old; he has plenty of time left to put this knowledge to good use-”
“Thanks,” Spike interrupted, “but I think they’re still processing my grade levels.”
“That reminds me, actually,” Celestia butted in, “I found a few new books about dragons I’d like to loan you three. I’ve read them already, and the majority of the information is quite new.”
“Where did you get them?” Twilight asked.
“The Prench ambassador. She heard we’ve been searching for any and all sources on dragons. She was very sorry to have missed you, Marjoram. She was hoping to chat with you about the implications of Equestria’s cultural views of morticians, pathologists, and the like. She enjoyed your conversation last time.”
“Give her my address. We can exchange letters if she’s amenable.”
“You know the Prench ambassador!?” Rarity squealed.
“Yes. I literally ran into her father when I was a colt, he was the previous ambassador, and since I was already Celestia’s student everypony thought it would be good to build some relations between myself and his daughter. We’ve been...not friends, but...good acquaintances? We usually debate more than we discuss.”
“That’s amazing,” Rarity said quietly.
Marjoram shrugged, “You get used to it. I know many of the ambassadors, even only in passing.”
“They’re quite an eclectic bunch,” Celestia intoned, sipping a cup of tea.
Rarity stared at Marjoram, clearly trying to school her facial features into a calm mask of indifference that many of the upper-classes used when looking down on situations they didn’t like; such as poverty, death, taxes, and the like.
“What’s the difference between a mortician and a pathologist?” Spike asked suddenly, “Don’t they both look at bodies?”
“Pathologists look at the body, and examine it through science to see what the cause of death was,” Marjoram replied, “Morticians prepare the body for the funeral, and they often perform cremation.”
Spike nodded, then his brows furrowed, “I thought you were a mortician?”
Marjoram sighed, then took a deep breath,“Ever since Equestrian society and culture deemed that any death that couldn’t be from anything other than accidents, natural causes, illness, and the like didn’t happen, anypony who works extensively with bodies tends to lump them all under the moniker ‘mortician’. I don’t prepare the bodies for funerals. I examine the tissues, and body itself to see what the pony died from. If necessary, I will travel to view bodies and will clean them up to some degree. Usually, though, I simply ensure they won’t....” Marjoram trailed off, “erhm...get damaged due to bodily processes that occur after death, figure out what they died from, then send them home for the burial. It has been centuries since ponykind has wanted open-casket funerals, and wanted embalming and the like-”
“Embalming?” Applejack asked, clearly unsure if she wanted to know the answer.
“Preserving the body,” Marjoram replied flatly, “Equestria’s current culture deems it taboo to mention things like murder, drug addiction, and other things that go against the Way of Harmony. So, when a pony is suspected of dying from something, or somepony, it tends to be pretty hush-hush. Most ponies don’t want to look, or touch their dead loved ones after they’re gone.”
“Why?” Spike asked, still shoveling food into his maw.
“After Nightmare Moon’s banishment to the moon, superstitions rose that she brought back the dead, and that anypony who knew anything to do with the dead became stereotyped and hated,” Luna cut in, speaking slowly as if she was repeating a lecture from memory, “The more taboo the idea of handling bodies became, so did everything attached to it, like looking and working with bodies.”
“That’s...kinda sad,” Spike said quietly, “Is that why the ponies back in Ponyville tried to smash your windows, and stuff?”
“Primarily,” Marjoram replied, “They fear what they don’t understand.”
“I didn’t think of it like that,” Applejack said slowly, “That’s...surprisingly interesting.”
“That’s why the few ponies that work with bodies here in Equestria tend to stay in larger cities. Many doctors in small villages know the cause of death because they treated the ponies before they died, or it’s relatively straight-forward. However, there’s a lot of places who don’t have anypony like me. That’s why hospitals and police-stations call me from such a wide area.”
“How do you get paid?” Rainbow asked flatly.
Marjoram sighed, “It depends. A lot of the time, the Crown will cover my services for the next of kin. Sometimes, ponies have to pay me themselves. Usually, the Crown just adds the money to my account once all the paperwork is completed. If the ponies have to pay me, they usually do it face to face. I tend to put half of the sum into an account for Spike, while the other half usually goes into my research or is donated to the Canterlot Hospital.”
“He’s got a bench named after him,” Spike added, moving to a small bowl of gems that had been provided for him.
“And I’ve donated enough to help the research department make several breakthroughs, which were important enough to get a bench that was dedicated to me,” Marjoram clarified, “It also doesn’t help that I practically lived there for the winter for several years, before the clinic in the palace was made available year round.”
The rest of the dinner was peppered with conversation: fashion trends, animal friends, the Wonderbolts, agriculture, party planning, and anything else somepony brought up. Dessert was served, and Celestia invited everyone to her private office to exchange gifts if they had any. The evening was going to be spent in the company of friends.
Marjoram fetched the presents he’d bought, that Twilight and Spike had wrapped for him since he’d been bedridden at the time, and made his way through the winding palace corridors to a secluded area of the palace. This was where Celestia and Luna’s private chambers were, as well as where the ambassadors stayed when they visited. Less traffic, almost no tourists, and the guards’ presence all played into the seclusion of the section of the palace.
Marjoram slipped into the study with practised ease, and found he was the last pony there; not surprising given his speed. Marjoram laid down beside Shores on a giant floor cushion that had been donated by seamstresses that had been looking for a warrant from the Crown.
Shores smiled at Marjoram, “We were beginning to wonder if you were going to make it.”
“I made it,” Marjoram replied stiffly, “Don’t worry.”
Shores nudged him playfully, “That’s what I do. Now that everypony’s here, do we want to exchange gifts now?”
Nods and murmurs of agreement sounded around the room. Marjoram used his magic to float the gifts to their respective recipient. Gifts were passed around, and Marjoram was surprised to see everypony except the princesses and Shores all had a sizable pile in front of them.
There was an awkward pause, the silence only broken when Spike cleared his throat.
“Uh...do we open them one at a time? Or all at once?”
“How about everypony opens one gift at a time, we say thank you, and then move on?” Twilight suggested.
“Sounds fair,” Applejack agreed, “Alright, everypony, find a present and let’s get to it!”
Marjoram chose the one closest to him, a sloppily wrapped one that was from Spike. Tearing into it, Marjoram had to smother a loud, inappropriate bout of laughter. Nestled inside the wrapping paper was a plush, large, bacteria. The same bacteria that had infested itself into Marjoram’s lungs. It was less than half the length of his foreleg, and it had beady black eyes. The dark humour that was clearly meant made Marjoram struggle hard not to laugh, choking with the effort.
Marjoram looked to Spike, who was on the other side of the group of ponies, and held the bacterium up with his magic, a crooked grin spreading over his features. Spike smiled back, a huge shit-eating grin that showed Marjoram what he’d hoped: that Spike had hoped to bring out Marjoram’s strange sense of humour.
“Thank you,” Marjoram smirked, moving the bacterium so he could examine it closer.
“I thought you’d like it,” Spike smiled, “I gave the bits to Shores, and she ordered it for me.”
“That was nice of you,” Marjoram looked at Shores, who was examining a bottle of hard apple cider.
“I thought it might make you laugh,” Shores replied, “It wasn’t a problem.”
The chatter from the rest of the room died down, and Twilight spoke again, “Is everypony ready for the next one?” Nods signaled the start of the next unwrapping.
The pattern continued until all the presents had been unwrapped. Marjoram was overwhelmed with the sheer amount of presents he’d received, for he hadn’t thought Twilight’s friends would go through the trouble of getting him anything else so soon after his birthday.
Marjoram had gotten a new pair of boots, a blanket, a trilogy of fantasy novels, a paint set, a book about the Second Pony War he already owned, several books about dark magic, a subscription to a medical journal, and some new test tubes.
Everypony else had similar piles of presents near them, excepting the Princesses and Shores who had been given promises of dresses, barrels of cider, fresh ingredients, and the like from Twilight’s friends.
Shores was going through Spike’s presents with Spike, gushing over the thoughtful things he’d been given. He was smiling so hard that Marjoram figured Spike’s face would be sore before the night was over.
Celestia and Luna looked content; happy in the knowledge that their subjects were happy. Twilight’s friends had different moods that matched their personalities; everything from bursting with joy to a quiet happiness that made them seem softer. It was odd, to see them all so happy at the same time.
Marjoram was jolted from his observations when a cup of apple-smelling hard cider was thrust under his nose. It was a small cup, much smaller than everyponies’ tankards. Marjoram’s eyes met Twilight’s, and Twilight nodded slightly. The message was clear: have a drink, but I’m not risking putting you into a coma.
Judging from the size of the cup, the alcohol was likely to knock Marjoram unconscious less than half an hour after drinking it.
“To new friends!” Twilight spoke, holding her tankard out in front of her with her magic.
“To family!” Shores toasted, holding hers up with a strong hoof.
“To the upcoming year!” Celestia intoned.
With that, everypony took a sip. Marjoram swirled the cider around in his mouth, noting the sweet taste of apple mixed with the burning sensation of the alcohol. He downed the cup in two swallows, setting the fragile porcelain on a table nearby.
Shores moved away from Spike, and nestled back into place beside Marjoram, a smile plastered on her face.
Twilight was chatting excitedly with Celestia, talking to her about lessons she’d learned, how Spike was progressing, and how she was adapting to life in Ponyville. Twilight’s friends were chattering amongst themselves, thanking each other for the presents and telling their own family traditions.
Spike was reading one of the comics Marjoram had bought him, pointing out details and explaining the comic book’s word to Luna. Luna was paying rapt attention, her turquoise eyes wide at the stunning artwork and complexity of the world contained in the pages held in Spike’s claws.
“How are you feeling?” Shores asked suddenly, “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you without some crisis happening.”
“I’m okay,” Marjoram replied, “I feel...about as good as I get. I’m content. I’m happy Spike and Twilight are happy, and you seem to be happy too. That’s important.”
Shores smiled, “Good. How long before the alcohol takes effect?”
“Not much longer,” Marjoram admitted, “Eyes are already feeling heavy.”
“Do you think Princess Celestia would mind if we slept here? It’s been a long time since we’ve spent so much time together-”
Celestia chuckled, “I don’t mind. Anypony who wishes to spend the night here is more than welcome to. I trust you ponies to not make an irreparable mess.”
Twilight giggled, “I’m sure we can manage to not trash your private study, Princess.”
Celestia nodded, “I will transfigure some beds out of the couches and chairs. It will make everything a little more comfortable for everypony.”
Marjoram leaned into Shores, his head feeling clouded over. Shores chuckled, “Don’t fight it. I know you want to sleep. I don’t mind; we can always talk in the morning.”
Marjoram nodded sleepily, nestling down into the soft cushion on the floor. He felt his new blanket being draped over him, and several pillows under his chest to help him breathe. Surrounded by warmth, with Shores pressed comfortably into his side, Marjoram drifted off to the sounds of quiet chatter.
“Is he out?” Twilight asked quietly.
Shores looked up from the sleeping stallion beside her, “Yeah. He’s passed right out.”
“Alcohol really does knock him out,” Rainbow observed, “That was fast.”
Shores nodded, “Yeah. It reacts to something in his tea, I’m not sure what. Since he doesn’t drink, he has no tolerance for it.”
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how do you organize such a big kitchen?” Applejack asked suddenly.
“Lot’s of hard work, training and experience. I’ve worked in the kitchens here since I was eighteen,” Shores replied, “I was working in restaurants beforehoof as well, ever since I got my Cutie Mark.”
“That’s fascinatin’,” Applejack replied, “How many ponies can you feed?”
“With enough warning, more than five hundred. That’s with a week’s warning, and all of my kitchen staff. With a day’s warning we can do maybe one hundred. On the average day, working from 5 AM to 10 PM we feed the live-in staff, the guards, the Princesses and their guests, as well as donate leftovers to soup kitchens and the poor, and if there isn’t enough to do that, we usually give the guards extra rations or let the staff take some home for their families. We waste as little as we can.”
“That’s good of you,” Applejack smiled, “We supply apples for the Ponyville/Canterlot region. Maybe you’ve heard of Sweet Apple Acres?”
“It’s your farm that provides the lovely apples? And the cider!? That’s amazing, your product makes my pies the best in Canterlot!”
Applejack beamed, “I’m glad to hear it!”
“How long have you known Marjoram?” Fluttershy asked, “If you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay.”
“I’d just started working here when he tried to enter Celestia’s school. Once he passed the test-”
“What was his test?” Twilight interrupted, “I know they use different ones all the time, and he won’t tell me.”
Shores tapped her hoof against her chin, brows furrowed in concentration, “I’m not sure. I didn’t know him. Princess? Do you remember?”
“It was to light a candle and keep the flame steady,” Celestia replied, “He nearly set the entire room on fire.”
“Really?” Twilight’s eyes were wide, “What did he do?”
“He didn’t know what he was doing,” Celestia intoned, “He had no training whatsoever, and had only managed to cast a few spells before the test. I just happened to be overlooking the tests when it happened. Marjoram lost control of his magic, and it simply followed his willpower and emotions, none of the intent.”
“Wow,” Fluttershy whispered into her tankard.
Celestia nodded, “Marjoram had amazing raw abilities for his age, he just needed to be schooled. He clearly needed the advanced studies to hone in on controlling his massive amount of magic. In some ways, his magic is very similar to Starswirl the Bearded’s.”
Twilight nodded slowly, “That’s amazing.”
“I’ve been very lucky to have both of you as my students so close together. It’s been centuries since one of my students were able to teach the one after them.”
Twilight smiled, “I’m glad you introduced us. It’s been...very nice to have somepony else who understands.”
“I know. That’s part of why I wanted Marjoram to teach you.”
There was a pause, and Shores took a deep breath.
“Anyway, I met Carnation first. I didn’t meet Marjoram until later. Carnation was a sweet filly; curious and wanted to see everything all at once. She wandered around the palace and got lost, she found the kitchens by accident. I was just starting out, and I got Carnation back to the main foyer. We became friends, and she dragged Marjoram down to the kitchens so he would take a break. It took a while, but eventually he warmed up to me.”
“That’s sweet,” Fluttershy grinned.
Shores nodded, “It was rough sometimes, but I’m glad I met them. Marjoram is like my son, and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.”
Twilight smiled, settling down into her chair, “That’s pretty incredible.”
“It is,” Shores replied, “Sometimes I forget he isn’t actually my child, and I think he sometimes forgets that too.”
“That’s completely understandable,” Applejack stated, “My sister was too young to remember my folks when they passed. Sometimes she forgets that Granny isn’t her mom.”
Shores nodded, “I’m sorry to hear that. At least she has close family like you to support her.”
Applejack nodded, “Yeah. She appreciates us, but she still wonders what having parents is like.”
“Anypony would, I’m sure. It’s something that can’t be helped.”
“My parents are always willing to be parent-y like to everypony they meet!” Pinkie chimed in, “They live on a rock farm, but I’m sure they would be willing to help!”
There was a pause. Applejack smiled, “I’m sure they would, Pinkie. I appreciate it.”
Out of nowhere, Shores chuckled, “I-I’m sorry. This is just absurd. It’s almost Hearth’s Warming! We should be talking about festive things and telling jokes, not about our tragic backstories.”
Applejack snorted, smothering her laughter with a hoof, “You’re right. Anypony know any good jokes?”
“I do! I do!” Pinkie jumped up, “What do you call an alligator in a vest?”
There was a pause, lips twitching, Shores shrugged.
“An investigator!” Pinkie collapsed into a bundle of laughter.
Groans, and reluctant laughter sounded around the room.
Marjoram jolted from where he had been sleeping, eyes wide and glazed, “Shores? Wha’ are they laughing at me again?”
“No, Marjoram. They’re just laughing at a joke Carnation told,” Shores soothed, “Go back to sleep. You’re both fine.”
Marjoram looked around, his golden eyes half-closed. He nodded minutely, and made himself comfortable once more. His wheezing, quiet breaths filled the suddenly awkward silence.
“Crazy nightmares?” Rainbow asked.
“Sometimes. Usually alcohol wipes him right out, but he hasn’t been asleep very long yet. That could be it.”
“I could soothe his dreams, if you think he’d be amenable to that,” Luna said quietly, “At least for tonight.”
Shores shook her head, “He’s pretty private...As much as I’d like to say yes, he would be pretty angry.”
Luna shrugged, “I thought I should make an offer.”
“I appreciate it, and I’m sure he would too.”
Luna nodded. She stood up, “I apologize, but I must see to the raising of the moon and stars. Please have a good night, and have a good Hearth’s Warming if I do not see you before you leave.”
A chorus of ‘good night’s, ‘Happy Hearth’s Warming’s, and the like followed Luna out of Celestia’s study.
“Why are you risking everything for these ponies who would willingly watch you wither away to nothing!?” Carnation demanded, stomping her hoof against the tiled floor, “You’re going to get sick, just like the others!”
“I’ll be fine!” Marjoram argued, “I’ll be with Megan and the others! They’ll make sure I take care of myself, I promise! I’ll wash my hooves and wear a mask and everything!”
Carnation rolled her eyes, pinning her ears back in frustration, “That doesn’t change the fact that these unicorns are the same ones who were taunting you just weeks ago, don’t you remember the black eye Violet Star gave you?”
“Of course I do!” Marjoram snapped, stepping closer to stare up at Carnation, “I haven’t forgotten, and I don’t plan to! I want them to know that it was me who saved them. I want them to know that it was me who made the pain go away!”
“Do you really think that will change their minds about you?”
“No, I don’t, I want them to remember me tending to them when they taunt me, to remember me soothing their sick family members when they beat me up!” Marjoram snarled, tears prickling the edges of his eyes, “I want them to feel guilty about what they’re doing!”
Carnation stared at Marjoram for a moment, then sighed, “You’re going to do this with or without my blessing, won’t you?”
“Yes,” Marjoram swallowed, “Megan says I need to get some experience with living ponies before I work with the dead. It’ll help me with my training. Besides, if I help the guardsmen, they might be a little more accepting of your paperwork.”
Carnation’s shoulders slumped, and she nodded reluctantly, “You sneaky bastard. You know just how to get to me, don’t you?”
Marjoram’s grin turned into a smirk, “It’s what I do. I’m you’re brother, remember?”
Carnation nodded, “Fine. Go help Megan and the others. I’ll see if Princess Celestia would like me to do anything. Even if I have to take care of the gardens until the gardeners get better, that will be doing something.”
Marjoram nodded, “Keep yourself busy. I don’t know when I’ll be back, so don’t wait up. I’ll see you later, sis.”
Carnation smiled, watching with worried eyes as her brother trotted off to go deal with the most virulent plague Canterlot had seen in almost 50 years.