The Rolling Stone
It was a dull, overcast day. A bit windy, just a little chilly. The stallion walking along the road thought it all rather annoying; winter had finally ended, and yet the cold weather still refused to leave.
He was a short fellow, white with a blonde mane, wearing a long blue shirt and flat-cap. He was also bored and tired, which made sense as he’d been walking non-stop all morning and afternoon. He really wished he hadn’t forgotten his map in the last town, if only so he could know how far away the next one was! He was so useless without one, having absolutely no talent for navigation.
Yet he at least knew civilization was near, the wooden fence by the road told him as much. The apple orchard, too. More than once he considered nabbing one, but always turned the thought away; he might be a runaway, but he was still above thievery.
After some time he finally had a sign of life: a constant, repeated thwacking sound that he knew couldn’t be natural. He could see there was somepony in the field up ahead. Maybe he could finally gain some directions. Checking to make sure his long shirt covered his cutie mark, he sped up to a optimistic trot.
He didn’t get far before getting a better look at the pony. The sight made him smile for the first time in nearly a week, for it was a mare. No knockout, but not bad on the eyes at all. Perhaps, if he was lucky…
The mare was bucking the apple trees, which instantly dropped their fruit with each heavy-sounding kick. So she was a farmer. How stupid, of course she was a farmer. Could he not see the massive orchard?
Nye took a moment to compose himself before leaning against the fence and calling out, “Hey there.”
The mare paused in her kicking to look around. She spotted him and gave a friendly, freckled smile. “Howdy!” Kick, down went the apples, neatly collected in a waiting wagon.
She sure made it look easy. “I’m Nye. You?”
“Applejack.” Another kick, another tree free of apples. “Ya’ll must be new ‘round here.”
“Uh, yeah.” A southern belle, eh? “New, and a little lost. What’s the next town down that way?” He gestured down the road.
Whack, another apple-free tree. “Yer headin’ ta Ponyville, friend. The Apple Family Orchard marks the outskirts of the town. Ya’ll keep headin’ that way an' you’ll be there in no time.” Whack.
Nye watched her buck a few more trees with genuine interest. “You’re pretty good at that.”
She paused to turn to him. “Pretty good? Ah reckin’ Ah’m the best apple-bucker this side of Canterlot!”
He rubbed his chin. “Apple-bucking. So that’s what they call it.”
She tilted her head with a grin. “Y’all ain’t never been ta a farm before, have ya?”
“City pony,” he confessed, not ashamed. “But I’d like to try. I’m looking for work, after all.”
She raised an eyebrow at him, then cast her gaze upon his hind legs. “Ah dunno, ya'll don’t look like no workhorse. No offense.”
He tried climbing over the fence; he didn’t pull it off with grace. “Hey… err, it’s no problem. Let me try. How hard can it be?” After all, she didn’t seem to have any trouble.
The doubt was plain on Applejack's face, but Nye had to try. He was at that stage where he’d willingly try just about anything. It was just bucking a tree, right?
He stood before one of the trees, gave her his most confident grin, and kicked with one leg.
A long pause.
Oh boy, not good.
He tried again with both legs, and again. Nothing.
Frustrated, he reared forward and put all his strength into his back legs, striking the tree so hard his hooves hurt.
A lone apple dropped hard on his head, making him wince.
Applejack laughed. Of course.
Nye lowered his head in shame. “I guess I’m no good at apple-bucking, either.”
“Don’t sweat it, sugarcube,” Applejack said quickly, patting him on the shoulder. “Ah’ve been doin' this my whole life. Besides, apple-buckin’s not fer everypony.”
He sighed and cast a sad eye at the apple that had fallen on his head. “Yeah… I guess so.” So much for impressing her. Or landing a steady job.
Applejack considered him, growing serious at his brooding manner. “Tell ya what: Ah’ve gotta head inta town once Ah’m done here. Why don’t ya come with me? Ah can point out a few places that might need yer help.”
He raised an eyebrow. "You would do that for somepony you don't even know?"
She nodded with a grin. "Why not?"
He didn't know how to feel about this kind offer. Considering his options for a few seconds, Nye realized that refusing the offer was an unpleasant notion. He wasn't comfortable with accepting it either, but... “It can’t hurt to look."
Nye had known better than to get his hopes up, and once again his expectations were accurate. He’d tried so many things that afternoon: quill selling to bookkeeping, pet care to gardening, muffins to cupcakes! A disaster, each and every one of them. By dusk he was feeling appropriately worthless and miserable, and Applejack had run out of ideas.
They were sitting by the town fountain, Nye having just gone through a particularly bad episode involving carpentry. “Look, Applejack,” he said, interrupting her attempt at encouragement, “I appreciate you’re trying to help, I really do, but it’s about time we faced facts: I’m just not very good at anything.”
She seemed unusually distraught for somepony who’d only just met him. “It just don’t make no sense. Surely there’s somethin' ya can do.”
“There is,” he said with head bowed. “Go to the hotel, sleep away my sorrows and move on to the next town. As always.”
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “The hotel? How are ya gonna pay fer a room when ya don’t have a job?”
“I’ve got money,” he answered. “Plenty of it. Just no job.”
“Seriously, sugarcube, that don’t make no sense, either. Where’d ya get the money?”
“It doesn’t matter, I don’t need the job for money.”
“Well then, what for?”
Nye leveled a grim, unpleasant look at her. “Self respect.”
He didn’t blame her confused frown; most ponies responded to him similarly.
Applejack abruptly facehoofed. “Fer the love of... Why didn’t Ah think of it before? Yer cutie mark! What’s yer special talent? Surely ya have some clue about—”
“No!” He set his haunch down on the fountain’s edge and glared at her. “Anything but that!”
She took a step back at his forcefulness. “What? But why?”
He glowered and looked away. “It’s personal, alright?”
“But yer special talent defines what ya can do,” she declared. “Why wouldn’t ya want ta use it?”
Nye didn’t like where this conversation was going, so he jumped to his hooves and turned to leave. He didn’t know why she’d helped him all this time, but he wanted no more of it. “I’m going to the hotel. Thanks for the—”
He hadn’t noticed that he was walking right into another pony. He crashed into boxes and rolls of fabric and found himself lying on the ground in a daze.
“Whoa, careful there.” Applejack came to the rescue of whoever he’d just hit. “Rarity! Sorry, he didn’t see ya there.”
Rarity? A friend of hers, he imagined. Hopefully she wasn’t so—
Nye caught sight of the unicorn and his mind froze; she had to have been one of the most attractive ponies he’d ever seen. Suddenly he was very happy to have met Applejack.
“Greetings!” He was on his hooves in an instant and gathering up boxes. “I’m sorry about this, I really should watch where I’m going sometimes. I’m Nye, friendly wanderer!”
Rarity accepted Applejack’s help. “Oh, it’s no problem, really.” She appeared as apologetic as he felt. “I was just carrying so many supplies. I couldn’t see where I was going.”
“Wow, that’s a lot of fancy.” Applejack eyed the ribbons and cloths and rolls of fabric that Nye was frantically trying to gather up. “Back from a Canterlot run, are ya?”
“Indeed I am.” Rarity lifted various things up with her magic and depositing them into assorted shopping bags. “I just got through with a very large order, but then I received an even bigger order for gala dresses. I simply didn’t have the material, so I spent a couple days in Canterlot. It’s a shame – I would have loved to have stayed there longer – but business is business.”
Nye was so busy cleaning up that he could only half-listen to the conversation, but he heard enough to make his heart sink a little. “So you’re… a dress maker?”
Rarity beamed. “I'm a designer! A fashionista! A very Important Pony, one of the most important in Ponyville!”
“Modest too,” Applejack added in a whisper clearly meant for his ears only.
Well, scratch her off his list of potentials.
Nye eyed the copious bags of supplies. It really was a big haul. How had she managed to get anywhere carrying it all, even with magic? He wasn’t really in the mood, but he couldn’t ignore a mare in need. “Here, how ‘bout I help you carry some of these to your shop, help lighten the load?”
“Oh, why thank you most sincerely,” Rarity replied in her oh-so-sweet voice. His eyes widened as a disproportionate number of bags floated forwards and dropped onto his back. He strained against the weight as she added, “Such a gentlepony.”
Applejack sighed and rolled her eyes. “Here, let me help, too.” She took some of the bags from his back, for which Nye – and his wobbling legs – were very grateful.
“You're both far too kind.” Rarity trotted happily past them with a lone bag hovering before her.
“Ya get used ta her after a while,” Applejack whispered with a grin as she trotted by. “Just go with it an nopony gets hurt.”
“Right,” he acknowledged through his teeth.
It wasn’t far to Rarity’s home, though night had fallen by the time they got there. It was a nice place, though Nye didn’t care for the interior colors. So many pinks and purples! Then again, she did seem like the kind of pony to enjoy those colors. He stood by, obediently holding all the bags while Rarity took her precious time putting things away.
“Why don’t Ah help?” Applejack asked, noting Nye’s patient-but-dour expression. “Just tell me where things go and—”
“No!”
Rarity blushed and set a dainty hoof to her lips. “Err, no thank you, dear. I’ve got it.”
“But does he?” Applejack asked with a wry smile and a nod towards Nye.
“Meh.” He would have waved a dismissive hoof if he weren’t afraid of tipping over. “Don’t worry about me, I don’t mind.” She raised an eyebrow. “Really.”
Rarity grinned and went back to work. “See? He’s just fine.”
Nye eyed his surroundings with only a half-interest, yet he was still able to make a few observations. “So you live here, Miss Rarity?”
“Why, yes! On the second floor, which is also my workshop.”
“Did you start the business on your own?”
“I certainly did,” she said. “It was rough going at first, but now I’ve a respected business. I regularly get Canterlot clientele.”
“Yep,” Applejack beamed. “The whole town’s awful proud of her! A bonafide regular at dress makin’.”
“Well, I don’t mean to brag,” Rarity added with a smirk, “but yes, I am. What is it that you do, Mr. Nye?”
He frowned and turned his head away. “I’m between jobs at the moment.” Then his eye caught the dress.
It was a lavish thing, a true blue beauty. One of her pieces, no doubt. He’d seen a lot of nice dresses, and he was no expert, but he had to acknowledge that it was a great outfit. Dresses weren’t his area, though. His area was…
His eyes dropped beneath the dress, where sat a quartet of matching blue shoes. He stared at them for a moment, his curiosity piqued. Their design was—
No.
He jerked his head away and blinked when he found Rarity practically in his face. She jumped back in surprise, the last bag she’d been lifting from him dropping haphazardly to the floor. “Oh, so sorry,” she said with a blush, “but I just noticed you were eyeing one of my designs.”
He swallowed, wishing he'd not been caught. “Yeah.” He turned back to look at the dress and tried to keep his eyes up.
There was a brief pause; he could tell without checking that she was watching him. Waiting for him to cast judgment, no doubt. “It’s… er… lovely.”
“Yes, it is isn’t it?” The disappointment in her voice was like a crack on the head with a hammer.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I’m just a bit distracted.” His eye wandered to the shoes again.
“Oh, that’s alright.” Rarity made a good attempt at sounding cheerful. “It’s not my best piece, anyway. I’ll be right back, this goes upstairs.”
He watched her go, then caught Applejack’s look. “What?”
She looked back at the dress with a frown. “Ah was gonna ask ya the same thing. It looks like a nice fancy dress ta me. Not my style, of course. What didn’t ya like about it?”
Should he say? No, no he shouldn’t. He turned and approached the dress once more. It really was a beautiful piece of work, something he imagined his mother would have paid top-dollar for, had she still been alive. “It’s nice. Really, it is. I’m just not into that sort of thing.” Curse his eyes, flitting down to those shoes! He could make out certain things so easily, and what he saw was just…
By Celestia, he couldn’t help it! He dropped down and took one of the shoes from the mannequin.
Applejack stepped up beside him. “Ah’d be careful, Nye. That dress looks awfully expensive an' delicate, an' Rarity might not like ya handlin' it.”
“I have to take a look.” He turned the shoe around in his hooves with care. He examined the bottom, the sides, the interior, his frown deepening with each inspection.
He didn’t hear Rarity come back down. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Did something happen to the shoe? Oh, please tell me it’s not ruined! That dress ships to Fillydelphia first thing in the morning!” She was looming over his shoulder in an instant.
He raised the shoe so she could see it. “Is this going to be used a lot?”
She blinked. “What? Well, it’s an evening dress. You know, for balls and the like. I imagine the client will want to use it often, yes.”
He rose up and gave her a critical look, still carrying the shoe in one hoof. “You expect a pony to wear this more than once?”
The look of pain on her face actually stung him a bit, but he couldn’t resist; a travesty was enacted here, and he had to speak up. “Judging by the mannequin sizing you’ve arranged, I’d say this shoe is a quarter-size too large. Not enough to be visibly noticeable, but I guarantee a week’s worth of wearing this thing will hurt in the long run.”
She stared at the shoe, then at him. “Oh. I thought you were saying the shoe was ugly.”
“No, it’s beautiful,” Nye acknowledged. “It’s also going to give your client a lifetime of joint pain. Or at least it would, if it lasts for more than two uses.”
“What?” She was truly perplexed now. “What do you mean?”
He shifted the shoe to display the inside. “There’s no protection! The client’s horseshoes will eat through the insole overnight, the out-sole within three.”
Rarity turned her head up and away. “The client wanted something light and fashionable! It’s the sacrifice one makes for style.”
“Why do they need shoes, anyway?” Applejack cut in. “Ah don’t know any ponies that wear 'em.”
Rarity gave her an appalled look; Nye only stared blandly at her.
“Why, it’s fashion!” Rarity declared. “Obviously shoes aren’t needed for everyday use, but with an ensemble like this, the shoes complete the art. They are essential!”
“Shoes and dresses go together like hay and oats,” Nye added before turning his attention back to Rarity. “Look, I know popular conception. It’s wrong. You can design these things to protect the shoe from the horseshoe. I’ve done it. Best bet is to put a horseshoe inside the shoe itself, with the mid-sole. Metal rings work, too.”
Rarity gained a skeptical frown. “You can do that?” But then she considered the shoe. “I suppose if one made a cutout for the mid-sole… but metal against metal isn’t exactly good health for horseshoes, now is it?”
“That’s why you replace the upper sole with rubber,” he declared. “Softens the blow and provides traction. Loads more comfortable, too.”
She took the shoe from him and studied it. “That… might work.”
“And,” he added smartly, “there’s an alternative design where the horseshoe is exposed and has nails.”
“Nails?”
“Yes.” Nye raised his hoof to show his horseshoe. “Remove the everyday horseshoe, then slip on the one in the shoe. You couldn’t ask for a more perfect fit.” He glanced at his own hoof and added with a frown, “Well, the theory is sound. Never finished the design.”
He felt something shift on his flank, and a chill ran down his spine. He glanced back to see Applejack lifting the bottom half of his long shirt. She was looking right at his cutie mark: a high-heeled shoe and three tacks. He jerked away and glared at her.
“That explains the crazy knowledge ya got,” she said witha grin. “Yer a shoemaker!”
“The term,” Rarity corrected, still focused on the shoe, “is cobbler.”
Nye continued to glare at Applejack. “Yes, I’m a cobbler.”
Applejack cocked her head at him. “Ah don’t get it, what’s so terrible about bein' a cobbler? Ya could help Rarity make shoes if ya'll really wanted a job that badly.”
"You know, I wouldn’t mind that at all." Rarity shot him a winning smile. "I really like these ideas of yours.”
He turned from them both with a snort. “Yeah, that’s me. Nye Stone, cobbler extraordinaire! Pleasant disgrace.”
“Disgrace?” Applejack asked. “What makes ya a disgrace?”
But Rarity caught on quick. “Nye Stone? As in the Stone family?” Her interest in the shoe faded quick. “You mean you’re related to Stikin Stone?”
Nye flopped to his haunches and sighed. “Dear old Dad, your reputation precedes me again.”
“Dad?”
“Hold on, now.” Applejack raised her hooves to get their attention. “Ah’m confused. Who’s this Stikin Stone feller?”
“I’d hardly expect you to know,” Rarity replied with an apologetic frown. “He’s an engineer, one of the most influential engineers in Manehattan! The Stone Family is full of very Important Ponies, famed for having excellent builders: architects, engineers, designers, contractors, drafters! And… umm… well…”
Ah, there it was. “That’s right,” Nye threw over his shoulder. “You don’t hear about any cobblers in the Stone Family, do ya? That’s why I’m a disgrace! Not like my brother, apple in Dad’s eye.”
Rarity was standing beside him, her face etched in concern. “You’re the brother that disappeared a year back, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t disappear, I ran away.” He stood and made for the door. “I’m getting out of here. It was nice meeting both of you.”
“What?” Applejack sounded hurt. “But we didn’t mean ta—”
“I know.” He slammed the door behind him.
Nye had slept hard, and with the morning sun and a little breakfast he was ready to move on to the next town. Hopefully he wouldn’t find any curious ponies there, wherever ‘there’ was.
He took a moment to stare at himself in the mirror. He didn’t look that good. Well, he certainly felt miserable, why should he look any different? His conversation the night before with Rarity and Applejack kept creeping back into his mind. If he’d just ignored the bucking shoe and its obvious flaws, they never would have found out! He cursed his cutie mark for the thousandth time since the exchange, taking extra care to ensure his shirt covered it as much as possible when he left the hotel room. He didn’t want anything to do with Ponyville, not anymore. He’d rather just slip out, unnoticed and invisible. As always.
Which was why he was so distraught when he opened the hotel’s front door and found a pair of mares waiting for him.
“Oh, no.” He glared at Rarity and Applejack. “Not you two.”
They gave one another sad glances, then Applejack removed her hat. “Listen, sugarcube. We wanted ta apologize fer last night.”
“Indeed,” Rarity said. “We had no idea we were broaching such a personal subject.”
Nye brushed past them, not caring that he was being rude. “Well, you did. Now you know, so I gotta go.”
To his irritation, the two mares began to walk along with him. “But why?” Applejack asked. "There are still dozens of jobs fer ya ta try out. We barely scratched the surface yesterday.”
“And we promise not to tell anypony about your background,” Rarity offered with a hopeful smile.
He turned to gaze at each mare one at a time, anger bubbling within him. “Why are either of you bothering with this? You don’t know me. I’m just a jerk of a stranger passing through on his way to his next set of failures. I mean, how long were you waiting at the door for me to come out? I’m not asking for help, I’m asking to be forgotten.”
This time when the two exchanged glances, there was a certain unpleasantness to their expressions. Applejack took a firm step so that she was right in his face. “Listen, we’re tryin’ ta be friendly an’ help ya out! Fer some ponies, bein’ nice is only natural.”
“That’s right,” Rarity chided. “We are trying to help and you respond with rudeness! It’s obvious you’re down on your luck. We only wanted to let you know that we can keep your secret.”
Applejack walked around him, head held high. “If ya wanna go, nopony’s gonna stop ya, but if ya wanna stay, that’s an option too.”
Rarity tossed her mane such that it smacked him in the muzzle before following her friend. “We’re sorry if our sincere concern offends you so much. Next time we’ll keep our apologies to ourselves.”
Nye stared after them, truly perplexed. All those niceties the night before, and now… well, now he felt like crap. He considered letting them go. After all, why should this bother him? And yet there was just something…
“Wait.” He followed after them. “Please, wait.” They turned back, and he lowered his head at their piercing glares. “I’m sorry. I guess I really was a little bit of a jerk.”
They raised their eyebrows in unison.
“Okay, maybe not a little.” He blushed, trying to think of what he was trying to say. “It’s just… I mean… I’m not used to ponies being nice to me. It’s been so long, I sorta forgot what it was like.” He glanced away in shame. “It’s the thing about being the black sheep in the family; nopony likes you, so you stop liking everpony else.”
They considered him for several seconds, making him feel more and more like a bug. At last, Rarity spoke: “Darling, you’re much too hard on yourself. I’m sure there are plenty of ponies who would like you, you just need to stick around long enough for them to get to know you.”
“Yeah,” Applejack agreed, that friendly smile popping back onto her face with enviable ease. “Find yerself a job, stick around fer a while. Ya might just find that ya belong in Ponyville. Lots of ponies do, just ask our friend Twilight.”
He glanced around at the quite town. “Well, I suppose I could give it another try. You really promise not to tell anypony about my family?”
They raised their hooves in unison. Applejack added, “An' we promise not ta bring the subject up again.”
Rarity concluded, “Or to suggest you be a cobbler.”
He considered them, their promise and the situation, then smiled. “Y'know, I could get used to ponies being nice to me. Alright, girls, fine. In the name of good relations between myself and the rest of ponydom, I’ll give Ponyville another try.”
Applejack beamed. “Glad ta hear it. You just wait, Ah’m sure y’all find somethin' ya can do here.”
He shook his head, still smiling. “I won’t be getting my hopes up – never do – but maybe I will. And, uh… thanks. You know, for coming by and all. It means more than I would have thought.”
“But of course, darling,” Rarity answered with head held high. “What are friends for?”
He blinked and stared at her. “Friends?”
Applejack nodded and set a hoof to his shoulder. “Yeah, friends.”
He stared at her hoof, then at the two ponies.
Friends.
Huh.
Nighttime in Ponyville, and Nye was on his way back to his apartment. He’d been here three weeks, a significant new record. Every day, he woke up in the morning and found himself actually happy to greet the day. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so… good. He’d made new friends, finally got a job at the local railroad station as a ticketmaster, and even found his own place to live. Two months ago, if somepony had said he’d be settling down in a place like this he’d have bucked them in the teeth!
Friends. It still seemed such an odd concept for him. Applejack and Rarity had introduced him to a few ponies, and within days he’d been amazed to find himself entering a small social circle. He especially got along well with the local pegasus, Rainbow Dash, with whom he shared a penchant for naps and general laziness.
He trotted along the path to his apartment, taking in the novelty of realizing that a path could become familiar, when he spotted the shared mailbox of his apartment. He never checked his mail. Nopony outside of Ponyville knew where he lived, so why would anypony send him a letter? Which is why he had to pause and take another look when he noticed that the door to his own box had been opened.
He considered moving on; it was probably some sort of mistake. Curiosity got the better of him, though, and he reached in to find a single letter. The handwriting was neat and elegant, and it was definitely addressed to him. Who could possibly…? He used his teeth to rip open the envelope.
He didn’t need to read beyond the first two lines to know what he was looking at. There, nestled at the bottom of the letter, was a shiny gold ticket. The sight of it made his heart sink.
“Well, what have you got there?”
Nye nearly flew out of his horseshoes! He landed and jerked about to find a mottled-brown unicorn with a black mane standing right behind him. The unicorn eyed the ticket with interest. “That’s a ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala!”
Nye clutched the ticket and eyed the stranger. “Yeeees… Who are you?”
“A local.”
“A local?” he repeated, glancing around as if expecting to see the pony’s house nearby. “I haven’t seen you in this part of town. Where do you live?”
“Around.”
“Around.” Nye wasn’t sure he liked the way this pony was responding. “Can I help you with something?”
“Oh, not at all,” the unicorn answered with a pleasant smile. “I just noticed your ticket and had to offer my most heartfelt congratulations.”
Screw that. “You want it? I sure don’t.”
“But whatever do you mean?” The unicorn's eyebrows rose. “That’s a ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala. Do you have any idea what some ponies would give to get one? Those invitations come from Princess Celestia herself. You don’t reject an invitation from a princess.”
“I’d sure like to,” Nye growled.
The unicorn shook his head. “I'm confused. Why wouldn’t you want to go to the Gala? I was under the impression that most ponies dream of getting an invitation.”
Nye chose to ignore the question. “I’ve got a dream come true right here. Sure you don’t want it? It’s going in the trash, otherwise.”
“Oh, no no no. Not me,” the stranger replied with a wave of his hoof. “I’m not near important enough for such a grand occasion. You, on the other hoof, must be a very Important Pony to somepony out there. You should go!”
Nye scowled and turned to head for his apartment, not bothering to say goodbye.
“Well, if you’re certain,” the unicorn called at his back. “Why not offer it to one of your friends? Surely there’s a mare out there who’d love to take that off your hooves.”
“What I choose to do with it is my own—” Nye turned around and went silent: the unicorn was gone. He looked down the road and all around the immediate area, but there was no sign of the stranger.
He couldn’t explain why, but Nye suddenly felt very nervous. Almost… scared. He slipped into his apartment and was sure to lock the door. He went to toss the ticket in the garbage, but paused to stare at it.
You know, that creepy unicorn was right: surely somepony out there would like to have this ticket. Rarity would be the natural choice, she just seemed like the type to appreciate it the most. When he really thought about it, though, he felt that he should offer it to Rainbow. He felt closer to her, after all.
Would she qualify as a best friend?
What a wholly novel concept.
Curse that Twilight Sparkle! She just had to be friends with all the best mares in Ponyville, and her royal connections got tickets for all of them. There he was, with what could only be the single best gift a mare could ask for, and another mare had beaten him to it. Insufferable!
Yet that hadn’t been the greatest blow, oh no; after he found that he couldn’t give the ticket away to his preferred ponies, they all promptly ganged up on him and insisted he go to the Gala. He tried to make it clear that he didn’t want to go, that he had very serious personal reasons for skipping out. But no, they pressed him.
So here he was, standing next to a window watching a bunch of posh ponies congratulate themselves for being rich. He was even wearing a nice tux, which Rarity had made for him as part of the trap.
So curse that Twilight Sparkle.
Curse the Grand Galloping Gala.
And curse himself for being unable to say no to a pretty face. Several pretty faces. Why did he have to have a weakness for mares?
Nye hated the Gala. He’d only been once before, when his family had been invited a few years ago. It had been humiliating – for himself and his family – and he had sworn never to go again. Let his father and brother indulge in the family glory.
Which was exactly what they were doing. Nye had spent much of the night carefully dodging his remaining two living relatives, making absolutely certain they never saw him.
Had they been the ones to arrange the ticket for him? Had they somehow learned that he was living in Ponyville? The thought had kept him awake a few nights since he’d received the invitation. He’d even seriously considered leaving Ponyville entirely, but couldn’t. He’d finally found someplace he liked. And friends.
He just couldn’t leave.
But he could dodge, and dodge he did. He might have spent time with his friends, but they all seemed to have their own agendas. Something about ‘the best night ever.’ Right. Not for him.
The Gala was well under way and he was growing more and more tired of the entire charade. He certainly wasn’t bored, what with keeping away from his father and brother. Still, he could use a little boredom at the moment; he could only avoid them for so long.
Finally too frustrated to want to continue, Nye waited until the servants weren’t paying attention and slipped through a hallway and up some stairs. He went to the first door he found and entered a darkened room to relax, at last confident that he wouldn’t be found.
He realized he was in some sort of large balcony room overlooking the central ballroom. It was well decorated; perhaps it had been planned to be part of the celebrations? It clearly hadn't been included for the evening, though. He went to the balcony to stare down at the elite ponies, glad to be away. He eyed his father and brother, looking so proud of themselves it made him feel sick. There was Rainbow Dash amongst her heroes, the Wonderbolts. Curious, she didn’t seem all that thrilled.
And there was Twilight Sparkle, in position beside the great and glorious Princess Celestia. Even in his displeasure, Nye couldn’t help but stare at the princess and feel warmth. There could be no faulting her for any of this, of course. How in her own name had his father convinced her to send him an invitation? Or his brother, perhaps?
He heard the sound of hoofsteps behind him and jerked about quickly. His heart skipped a beat; if he wasn’t supposed to be here – and there was nothing to say he was – he might be in trouble. What a disaster for his friends that would be!
For a moment he saw nothing. Perhaps he was hearing things. But then he saw it: a tall pony hidden in the shadows. He could see the wings by the outline. So it was a pegasus. An unusually tall pega... no. No, that wasn’t a pegasus.
It was an alicorn.
Before his heart had skipped a beat; now it all but stopped entirely. The alicorn came into the light from the ballroom and revealed herself to be the one and only Princess Luna.
He dropped into a bow as fast as possible, which was good because he suspected his knees would have given out otherwise. “P-Princess! Please forgive this intrusion!”
When the princess spoke, it was in a strained voice. “Thou art forgiven, my loyal subject.” She sounded as if she were struggling to shout and keep her voice down at the same time. “Though I am obliged to ask why thou hast come to this place so hidden from the night’s festivities.”
Oh boy. Could he lie to Nightmare Moon? Well, she wasn’t Night Mare Moon anymore, was she? But still a princess. Could he lie to a princess? A truly magnificent princess, he added to himself upon glancing up at her. Indeed, he dared to think she put Princess Celestia to shame.
Idiot! The Princess of the Night was waiting for an answer!
“I…” Nye paused to consider his words. He could think of nothing save the truth. So, hesitantly, “I was looking to get away from… the Gala.”
The princess tilted her head at him. “Doth not my sister’s celebration please thee?”
He leapt up. “It’s a great party! Wonderful, really!” Oh, what was he saying? “It's just… I’m not a big party pony.”
The princess, tall and regal, stepped past him to the balcony and gazed down at the partygoers. “We understand.”
He stared at the back of her head – a moment to observe that delightful mane! – and was perplexed. Wasn’t she going to send him away or something of that sort? He glanced around at the darkened room, questions floating through his head. Should he ask? Was it appropriate?
“W-why…?” She didn’t look back, but there was a slight motion to her head that told him she was paying attention. He swallowed for courage. “I-if you don’t mind my asking, why… umm… why are you here and not down there?”
It seemed at first as though she wouldn’t answer. Nye was just preparing to slink back to the Gala, feeling like some sort of criminal, when she spoke. “Our sister proffered to make this our chance to revisit a life in view of the public. For a year we have been adjusting, re-accustoming ourselves to our old duties, yet we feel that this occasion is not appropriate for a public return.”
For a princess, she was being strangely open. With how much he always tried to hide, and knowing her past as everypony did, the difference was strangely humbling.
Feeling brave, Nye walked up beside the princess and stared down at the guests, all oblivious to their gaze. “My brother and father are down there,” he admitted after a few seconds of tense silence. “Truthfully, Princess, it is them I’m avoiding, not the Gala.”
He could feel her eyes on him. It made him not just a little nervous. “Thou fearest a reunion.” Again with that strange tone.
He looked up at her, noting how she was taller than him by a significant margin. Every second had him feeling more brave about this conversation. Perhaps it was how open she was being, though she still held that regal air that kept him on edge. “Princess, if I may ask, why are you speaking with such a… tone?”
To his surprise, the princess actually blushed. “We are attempting to follow tradition and discretion in equal measure. Tradition demands a set tone and volume, but discretion demands restraint.”
“Oh.” That sounded annoying. “You could just follow discretion? For the moment?” She gave him an imperial look, which he countered with a weak smile. “I won’t tell if you won’t. Promise.”
Her royal veneer cracked with the slightest glimmer of a smile. “We shall… try. What is thy name, subject?”
He frowned and glanced away, forcing an honest answer to his lips. “Nye. Nye Stone.”
He waited for her reaction. There wasn’t one. When he looked at her again, she was gazing down at the crowd once more.
Nye felt foolish; of course she wouldn’t know about the Stone Family legacy. How could she, having been out of touch for a thousand years?
When she spoke again, her tone was commanding. “Speak not of this chance encounter to anypony, Sir Stone. Our return to public life must arise in our own manner and time.”
He winced. “Please, Princess, Nye only.” He turned to her and tried once again to form a smile. “I’d rather keep my family name a secret. Past regrets and all.”
“It would seem, then, that silence shall be beneficial to us all.”
Well, that had been easy. He found he rather liked this princess. Granted, he’d never personally met any other princess, but still.
Perhaps it was time he made himself scarce. There was still the Gardens, where Fluttershy had gone. Maybe he could stay there; avoid the Gala and his kin and be out of the princess’s way.
And yet…
Nye stared at Princess Luna. Her gaze was upon the crowd below, eyes slowly shifting from face to face. There was an inescapable sadness in her manner, as if she were still dealing with things beyond his comprehension. Things involving Nightmare Moon. Things involving her job.
Things involving Princess Celestia?
He realized how lonely she must be. Perhaps she dearly wanted to be part of society. A princess who wasn’t loved by her subjects? What must it be like to fear the public eye, and yet so desperately want to have it? He knew. He’d been there. He’d not been exiled for a thousand years, but he knew exactly what it felt like to be ostracized.
He thought back on what he’d earned in the past few months: a home to belong to, something to do. Friends. It had felt so special to have friends for once. It still did.
“Princess? How would you like to make a long-distance friend?”
She blinked, slowly turning her puzzled face to stare at him. She held his gaze for several seconds, seeming lost in her own thoughts.
And then she smiled. Beautifully.
Maybe having a weakness for mares wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.
Luna remained in the dark after he’d left, pondering this recent turn of events. She didn’t have long to think about it, though; there was another who had her attention.
“Dost thou presume to spy upon thy princess?”
A shift in the light, ever so faint, and the unicorn appeared in a corner nearby, as if hidden by a mirage.
“Hide from the mistress of all night?” Fine Crime asked. “Preposterous. But spying on a candidate? That’s another matter entirely.”
She cast a stately glance his way, but there was no hiding her surprise. “Candidate? Him?”
“Yes.” Fine approached the balcony. “His meeting with you was entirely unplanned, mind. Now that you’ve met him, what do you think?”
“He strikes an impression of one conflicted with inner turmoil.”
Fine chuckled. “Aren’t we all?”
Luna cast a stern gaze upon him. “We doubt it safe that thou art here amongst all these ponies.”
“You and me both.” He gazed down at the crowds below with a solemn frown. “You can relax, I won’t be having any visions tonight. Besides, I’ll be spending the majority of this night in the Garden. Observing.”
She kept her gaze locked on him. “Pray tell, observing what?”
He smiled in a slow manner that disturbed her. “Only the single prettiest pony I have ever laid eyes on.”
fine caught her glance and coughed in a self-conscious manner. “What? I said I won’t have a vision. Even if I did, I would hold myself back. I wouldn’t dare touch an Element-Bearer, which is what she is. Kindness, if I recall correctly.”
Luna was appalled. “Claimest thou to be targeting the bearers of the Elements of Harmony for thy—”
“I said no.” Fine's lips formed a scowl. “I’ve lived with this curse half my life, Luna. I think I would know how to keep it in check, or at the very least when to find a suitable location before it takes over. A little trust would be appreciated in this relationship.”
She locked him with an icy glare. “This is no relationship. Thou art a subject of the realm and in our service. At Celestia’s behest we accepted thy management of this duty, and with no small amount of reservation.”
“And I’m certain Celestia informed you of my years of loyal service,” he countered coolly. “She accepted me being a Bloodmane all those years. She defined the rules, and I’ve stuck by them to the letter. In return, she never questioned my methods.”
“Well, we do.”
Fine glowered as he considered her statement. “Then I suppose now’s a bad time to inform you that I had somepony break into the public relations office and forge Mr. Stone’s invitation letter and ticket?”
“What?” Luna cast a surprised glance down into the ballroom, but could not find Nye in the crowd. “Why wouldst thou do such a thing?”
“I wanted to see how he would respond,” Fine answered. “To see how he’d react when his new friends pushed him to come, to watch how he’d handle being at the same party as his estranged family. Most importantly, to see if his terrible fear of having his new home discovered would outweigh his fear of losing his new friends and home.”
She set a hoof to her lips and studied him. “And?”
Fine’s expression was firm. “He succumbed to his friends’ desires over his own. A point in his favor. He also has so far successfully evaded his family, though I cannot say as of yet whether this is a good thing or not. Most importantly, he did not flee Ponyville. Great marks there. Of course, there was an unexpected element; he met you. Did he flee in terror?”
The princess shifted, blushing. “No.”
“No.” He nodded with a smile. “No, he didn’t. In fact, he’s actively trying to help you by befriending you. That, Princess, is what you call ‘bonus points’.
“So you see, I’m performing my investigation. I’m doing as you asked and gathering the information. Three candidates have been found. One is clearly suitable to the task, while one requires a bit more experience.”
She eyed him. “Thou spoke not of a third candidate before.”
Fine's smile faded to a solemn frown. “That’s because I need to keep an eye on him for a bit longer. I’m still not convinced that he has all the qualifications. You’ll know when I know.”
Luna considered his words for a long time before finally responding. “We see that thou art indeed making progress. A thousand years past, thy methods would be questionable, but we cannot argue that they are ineffective. Yet thou art still a Bloodmane, Sir Fine Crime, and that is something we are having a very difficult time reconciling.”
“I understand perfectly,” he said with complete seriousness. “I find it hard to accept, myself.”
For some unfathomable reason, she approved of that answer. “Very well, Sir Fine Crime. We will cease questioning thy methods… openly. But be warned, do not make us regret granting thee such responsibility. Now please, leave us to our thoughts.”
He nodded and made for the shadows. “One more thing, Luna. I understand that you doubt me. In your horseshoes, I would doubt me, too. But please know this: I served your sister devotedly for years. Since your return and assumption of the royal duties, my devotion has been set upon you.
“I do not take my duties lightly. You may yet live for another thousand years, and you will be hard-pressed to find another pony so determinedly loyal as I. My life for yours, Luna. Remember that when you begin to suspect where my interests lie.
“And if you doubt that,” he concluded, dark clouds beginning to form around him, “I suggest you ask your sister about my dragon record.”
He was gone.
Luna stared at the place he’d occupied just a moment ago, brooding over his words as the night wore on.
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Bill Nye the science guy
Could a Bloodmane possibly be... a pony VAMPIRE?!?!?!?
2969757 You shall see... in another four chapters.
in·ef·fec·tive
ˈiniˈfektiv/
adjective
adjective: ineffective
not producing any significant or desired effect.
"the legal sanctions against oil spills are virtually ineffective"
synonyms: unsuccessful, unproductive, fruitless, unprofitable, abortive, futile, purposeless, useless, worthless, ineffectual, inefficient, inefficacious, inadequate
...was that intentional or did you miss something there?
4539896
She's saying she can't say is methods are not effective.
Also in Equestria the occupation of "cobbler" takes on an interesting connotation. It would likely be replaced entirely with the more accurate "farrier" in terminology, and they'd be more respectable as horseshoes are pretty important to the life of an equine.
5061912
Actually, I think of them as two entirely different types of service. A ferrier would deal strictly in horseshoes, while a cobbler would design less practical 'shoes' for fashion purposes only, the difference being that the shoes go over the horseshoes. Although there's no reason to think someone like Nye couldn't have learned both for practical purposes.
Mayhew's Log: The Rolling Stone:
Well I had my suspicions about Fine's... "temptations" but I didn't want to make any bets on it. Unless I'm mistaken and "Bloodmane" is not a synonym for a word that starts with "V" Also he better steer clear of my Fluttershy... Or not because it actually might be a kind of cute ship.
Anyway, I like Nye. It's easy to understand his motivations and I'm excited to see more of him as well as what his talent as a cobbler will be used for(I do have my suspitions though).
I'll see you at the next chapter.
5495628
A word that starts with "V"? I seriously have no idea what you mean by that.
Nye was the easiest character to write for, by far. He's a character type that I've used frequently before.
Loving the story thus far! Nye is relatable due to his girl/mare problem, I liked that. His meeting with Applejack was really cute too, and him encountering her first due to the farm being on the outskirts of Ponyville makes sense like you said. Really like how you weave that kinda stuff together, simple and makes sense if you look at it logically. Also, this Bloodmane thing.. Sounds like a vampire, but that would be too simple now wouldn't it? Onwards to the next chapter!
5521940
Nye was by far the easiest character for me to write for, because out of all of them he is indeed the most relatable. I end up using him a bit too much in the next book as a result. He was originally one of my favorites, but by Book IV that had migrated to other ponies.
You could have just written "Modest too," Applejack whispered, and the meaning would be clear to the reader anyway.
I like this. It's a quick look into her priorities without lingering on them and explaining.
I can't picture this. How do you frown apologetically?
Again, not a concept I'm familiar with. Did he shut his eyes as tightly as he could? Push into the bed and hug his pillow with all his might?
So which one is it? Nightmare Moon or Night Mare Moon?
I'm not liking this guy so far. He reads like the male protagonist of a harem anime, but you do introduce some interesting elements like bloodmanes and an agenda for Fine Crime. It's interesting that you're inserting these chapters into episodes as opposed to setting the story after all the episodes released at the time.
5559878
Please check my response to your last comment. All these errors have been discussed broadly in the past. I know they're there, I know what's wrong with them, and I'm leaving them in so that I'll be reminded of my old mistakes. You can keep pointing them out, but you'll just be telling me everything I've already heard a billion times from my editors.
Sorry if this sounds biting. I have a thing about being told things I'm already aware of.
5560015
The first comment certainly, I'll leave the saidisms alone if it bothers you so much. But I don't see anyone here pointing out that frowning apologetically and sleeping hard are hard to visualize.
You're going to have to put up with it if you insist on leaving in all the mistakes you've made for posterity. Am I supposed to read every comment ever made on your story before I leave mine? That seems like an unnecessary chore to put on your reader.
5561094
Okay, good point.
Actually, all the debates and pointing out of errors was done via PM from my editors, all of whom read this long after the stories were completed, so you wouldn't see them even if you did read every comment of every chapter (and believe it or not, there are people who do that for some reason).
If you wanna be critical, I don't mind. Who knows, maybe you'll even spot something that hasn't been pointed out to me before, and if not... well, I guess being reminded of my past mistakes is a good way to keep them in the past, right?
My only (new) concern is that I never got around to editing anything past Book I, and the remaining three books... yeah, they need it. Badly.