Armor's Game

by OTCPony

The Magnate

Fancypants hated these meetings. He couldn’t believe that he’d been summoned on the morning of Hearth’s Warming Eve, but then again, Prince Blueblood was a charmless noble who believed himself to be the paragon of sophistication. Such a paragon, in fact, that he was justified in treating all those he spoke to as if they were excrement to by scraped off his hooves (not by himself, obviously). He revelled in his title, yet if his ancestors could see what he had made of himself, they would have sobbed and begged that he be stripped of it in a moment. Fancypants had heard of his utter disregard towards his servants and coldness towards mares. When Rarity had told him of the fiasco at the Grand Galloping Gala at that garden party over a year ago, they had shared a laugh. Yet when he thought of it now, he was revolted. And no matter how he treated the mares around him, Blueblood still expected them to give themselves up to him.

Yet these meetings for necessary, for Blueblood’s sense for gems was unmatched in Equestria, and his skill with a balance sheet was remarkable. Even as he neglected his title of Prince, Blueblood had built up one of the largest mining operations on Equus. As well as Equestria, he had mines in Horsetralia, the Dragon Kingdoms, Zebrica, and Saddle Arabia. He was planning to expand into the unexplored regions of South Amarerica, and his survey teams had the best record for striking gems in the world. If Fancypants wanted to expand his own mining ventures into the Crystal Empire, he needed Blueblood’s expertise.

Blueblood’s study in the southeast tower of Canterlot Castle was sombre and ascetic. The Spartan chamber was panelled with dark oak and, but for a desk, chairs, and two portraits (one of himself, one of the ancestor who’s title he had no right to), it was unfurnished. Blueblood had sacked a secretary last week for suggesting that they decorate the office, saying that Hearth’s Warming decorations were for commoners.

“So, Fancypants,” said Blueblood haughtily. “How go your preliminary surveys?”

The Unicorn sat behind his desk, impeccably dressed, nose turned up slightly as if there was a bad smell in the room. Fancypants tried to hide his disgust.

“Exceptionally well, Your Highness. We’ve identified seven sites so far, four of which can be entered from pre-existing shafts, and the teams have performed in an exemplary fashion.”

“My teams, Fancypants. I trust our agreement is still in place?”

Fancypants resisted the urge to grind his teeth. “Of course.”

“Excellent. In exchange for your use of my teams, the Blueblood Mining Consortium shall receive twenty percent of the profits of all gems and metals mined.”

It was so like Blueblood to remind Fancypants of his terms. He had struck a hard bargain, but only Blueblood’s teams had the experience to operate in the weather conditions they could expect to find in the Crystal Mountains. His company, Toffeenose Mining, built up by his father and grandfather, needed to expand to stay competitive; the Crystal Empire badly needed a modern economic base after its thousand-year disappearance; and the Fancypants-De Lis Charitable Foundation needed an injection of funds if it was to continue its operations overseas. Much as it galled him to work with Blueblood, he needed this deal.

“Concerning that...” said Blueblood, thoughtfully.

“Your Highness?”

“You operate forges, do you not, Fancypants?”

Fancypants blinked at this non sequitur. “Uh, yes, Your Highness. They’re a small thing I keep on the side, but I’ve been trying to get them off my hooves.”

“Not very profitable?”

“Barely, Your Highness.”

“You bought them as a young stallion, didn’t you?”

Fancypants tried not to let his irritation at the implied insult show. “I thought I could start something up to compliment the mining company before I inherited. There just wasn’t the demand, though.”

“Hmm...” The Prince leaned back on his haunches. “I have a mind to make you a deal, Fancypants. I will take these forges off you, and my Mining Consortium will reduce its cut of the profits from the Crystal Empire to fifteen percent.”

Fancypants blinked. “Your Highness?!”

“I must know if you agree now, Fancypants.”

“Your Highness, that’s exceptionally generous of you, but forges are a volatile asset. You’ll probably be running them at a loss. There’s just no demand for metal goods in Equestria that cottage industry can’t handle, and for anything bigger, the other factories are already big enough.”

“Fancypants, I have my reasons to offer you this deal. I am offering to take an unprofitable asset off your hooves. What I do with it is not your concern. Now, I need an answer.”

Fancypants stared at the Unicorn across the desk. Something told him not to do this: Prat though he was, Blueblood was not known to make stupid business decisions. There had to be an ulterior motive.

And yet, try as he might, Fancypants could not think of what it could be. It might be a bad purchase, but Blueblood’s company would not be ruined by it, and Fancypants really didn’t need these forges weighing him down.

“Very well, Your Highness, they’re yours.”

“Excellent. I will have my secretary draw up the necessary details and have them sent to you in the New Year. Good day.”

And with that, Blueblood pulled a folder of documents from a desk draw, opened it, and paid Fancypants no more regard.

Fancypants sighed and got up. He was used to such dismissals by now. He trotted out of the study, thanked Blueblood’s new, nervous-looking secretary, and descended the tower.

He came to the entrance to a corridor and stopped for a moment to check his reflection in a window. His shirt and waistcoat were immaculately pressed and his mane and moustache were carefully preened. With a touch of magic, he adjusted his monocle and elaborately-knotted bow tie, and elegantly trotted into the corridor.

Like every room in Canterlot Castle, the corridor was high-ceilinged, airy, and handsomely-decorated. Here, Bling-era vases bought from the Dragon Kingdoms lined the walls. Each was as tall as a stallion and had its own unique pattern. He wanted to get a few of those for the house, but if he did, Haysia would probably run out of porcelain as the rest of Canterlot’s upper class made a rush to emulate him.

A Guard stood at attention at the end of the corridor. His face emotionless, he opened one of the huge double doors that stretched almost to the ceiling. Fancypants thanked him, walked through the door, and nearly walked straight into a snow-white Unicorn.

“Good heavens! Rarity!”

“Oh, Fancypants! I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!”

“Oh, don’t worry, my fault,” he said. He took her hoof and kissed it. “You should have said you were in Canterlot.”

Underneath a huge, brilliantly-decorated hat, Rarity blushed. “Just, uh, here for Hearth’s Warming with Twilight and the Princesses.”

“My word! You really are moving up in the world.”

“Well, not bad for a charmingly rustic country pony.”

They both chuckled. “What brings you to the Castle, Fancypants?”

Fancypants’ smile faded. “Prince Blueblood. We have a mining deal in the Crystal Empire.”

“Do you have to work with that brute?”

“His company’s the best in the business, and the Empire needs investment.” He gave a disgruntled whinny. “Well, let’s not talk about this! It’s Hearth’s Warming! Will you join Fleur and I for lunch?”

“Oh, that would be wonderful! Perhaps I’ll see you at the play tonight as well?”

Fancypants smiled and walked next to Rarity. He let any worries he had with Blueblood fly from his mind.