Frozen Hearts

by tilpin313

Chapter 3: The Royal Dinner

Chapter 3: The Royal Dinner

The old playhouse wasn't built for practicality; though the columns that supported the frame, the roof and the stage itself were covered in ornate carvings of unicorn brilliance, there was little cause to be assured of safety while in attendance. The frame sagged on the termite ridden supports, the roof was nailed in at irregular and erratic intervals and the stage was loosely fitted into the wall behind it, subject to shifts during storms or rebuilding.

This never stopped the higher class ponies from attending its monthly performances of legendary unicorn plays. It was claimed that the greatest actors in all of Unicornia and “the land before” were, or had been, in service at this very theatre.

Ponies flowed towards the stage in steady droves, quickly filling the lobby. Most were moguls, made rich off the strife between the Pegasi and the Unicorns. Their own children had been spared the call of duty when the war machine’s gears had been greased with monetary oil. The attendees mingled for a short while, pleasantries exchanged, healths questioned and family portraits marveled over. Gasps of “Look how big they’ve grown!” and “We simply must have you over!” came quick and often as the reluctant ritual dictated. All the promises and excited behaviour would have given the actors a run for their money; that is, if they had any.

The idle chatter went on for another half an hour, but dropped off the moment the true star entered. The dampened moonlight still gave her snow white body a gossamer sheen. The torchlight of the theatre made her styled purple mane and tail sparkle while casting dancing shimmers of the same color across the room. She was the pride of the royal family and the face of the monarchy, in many cases overshadowing her princess cousin.

“Good evening to you all.” Rarity bowed low and graciously, obviously blushing at all of the eyes fixed on her. “I trust you have all been well?” Most responded with hurried nods. The entire room had lost their voice, nervous like a colt his first time in heat.

Rarity breezed past the lobby, making her way easily through the crowd to the royal balcony and took her place. It could be observed that no one ever spoke to her; most were too busy basking in her status or trying to make their way into the family themselves. She suffered more wedding proposals an hour than a normal mare would even think of her betrothed, or any other stallion for that matter.

She sat in the box seat that was set up to the right of the stage. It was as close as anypony could get to, but gave a full view of, not only the stage, but the entire theater. The other play-goers followed close behind, filling almost half of the seats.

Only after the last unicorn was seated did the show begin. The few ushers employed by the theater wandered up and down the aisles, extinguishing torches as they passed them, but leaving a few dimly lit in the sconces.

Rarity adjusted herself in the plush, purple velvet seating. The players took the stage, dressed in rags and tattered robes. From where she sat, Rarity could count the ribs of each of the players and hoped that the grumbling of their bellies wouldn't drown out the words as it had times before. The lead, a chocolate colored mare stepped to the forefront to introduce the show "We will be performing a history, written by Queen Emerald Shone: The Founding of Unicornia." The leading mare bowed and stepped into the crowd of actors behind her.

The epic started as lights rose on the stage, controlled by the ushers again. Rarity had been told this story since she was a child, but, nearly each and every time it was, she lost herself in the characters and the fancy of altered history.

The players gathered at center stage, all but the chocolate mare wore similar hoof spun robes. Six horses surrounded the lead, trapping her in a threatening circle. The first words revealed the roles at last, the mare was playing as the Queen's assistant, the character from which the play had been around. "You whisper lies!" She cried out, a tiredness that was too real to be acted laced the words. "Vile warlocks, when my lady hears your traitorous words she will have your jaws sewn shut by your own dark curses!"

The tallest stallion of the group that surrounded her stepped forward, projecting his voice with magic and adding an evil tone. "We have seen the future of our people, and the fate of our lost Princess Platinum." A cold wind came from a window opened behind stage, making the blood red robes the stallion wore flare up ominously. "She lays dead, frozen in a far off land, chilled through like our own. Yet a future rests in that land. If this opportunity is ignored, "The warlock's magic tore his hood away from his face "then our people will surely be extinct by your folly." The unicorn beneath the hood shared the same color as his robe. His coal black eyes seemingly burrowed into the adviser's very soul, along with those in the audience who met his gaze.

"Was it not you who claimed this land would bring about chaos and discord, were we to migrate?" A new voice called from offstage. It was soon given a body as a striking green unicorn stepped from the curtain. Magic had been used to give her mane and fur a more brilliant gloss, made brighter still by the light that the ushers funnelled down upon her. Magic was also to thank for her girth as she was far fatter than any of the other players. "Or have you given up on that childish notion, Fresh Moon?" The Queen's player asked.

The stallion hissed when she spoke the name, "I am grand master Dark Veins, reborn in the body of the one nearest to my blood." He growled. "My former body may be dead, but a true warlock's soul never expires. I gave counsel to this Princess almost a hundred years past, and she chose instead her own foolish path. Now she lies dead, her grave littered with bodes of the lesser tribes." He glowered at the Queen, managing a look of both imploring pleading and seething anger.

"What has changed in those hundred years Dark Veins? Our people still starve, we are passed the brink of war with the brutish air-born, all that remains is for the first volleys to be fired. What could have possibly changed?" The Queen demanded, staring past her nose, managing to condescend upon the giant stallion.

"Nothing ever will," Dark Veins answered, "if we remain here, bound by our mortal stupidity. Should we leave, my people will steer the kingdom to the new lands. Staying will lead to our demise, but this new land holds a new future, a glorious reign and an end to this war." Rarity sat up straight in her seat, the play came to her favorite part, the prophecy of Dark Veins Reborn. "Two of our own, one gifted by royal birth and the other gifted by magical heritage will bring harmony to your kingdom. I have only foreseen the two, but I sense others. Four more shall join them, and through each of their merits, bring harmony and peace." He pledged.

"If it is to be believed that you are truly the legendary Dark Veins, you will understand our disbelief in your divinations." The Queen smugly stated, trotting around the gathered mob. "As it happens, none of the warnings of your namesakes came true. He told us that a land of fire will come to swallow the land of ice. That was four forms ago, yet still ice resides in this kingdom." Emerald stopped aside the great red stallion, looking into his right eye, searching for doubt. There was a pause as the two eyed each other, anticipating the other's surrender.

"Very well," The Queen finally gave in; the ice in her voice gave new meaning to the word chill. "I give you my blessing. Bring builders and townsfolk; settle this land. The unicorn empire must keep expanding." The Queen flicked her tail as she took her exit. "You will attend this trip as well, Quill Foal." She spoke casually to the Scribe that followed her closer than a shadow.

"My Queen?" The chocolate mare asked, aghast. "My duty rests at your side, attending to you and documenting your rule."

"I have more than one scribe, Quill Foal, though none as accomplished as you. Would you not like to make history? Be the first to make record of this land?" The Queen inquired. "You do, this tantalizes you like a ripe pear to a pauper. You will document this discovery, as well as enforce my law on these ghostly magicians." Quill Foal nodded and the stage went dark.

Ushers hurried about below, retrieving coats for the cold, food for the hungry and, in one odd case, an entirely new guest as a replacement for a mare who had bored the stallion she had come with.

Rarity had her own set of drudges who would jump the moment she cleared her throat, each presenting her with different options of drink. She sent one off to collect her own cloak and, if any remained, a blanket as the window had yet to be closed and the icy air whispered in and around the theatre. She thanked the slave graciously on his return, but refused to allow him to drape the thick woollen fabrics on her. "I am quite capable of doing these things myself. I am royal, not stupid." She snapped at another one of the drudges who begged her for the honour.

Rarity bundled herself in the blanket, hoping that the cover would hide her shakes. Her front hooves had started to violently trembled out of her control. It was more than shivering from the open window; the breeze was uncomfortable, but not enough to create tremors as harsh as hers. The entire city was well aware of the family's passed down disease They named it "The Shudders". It seemed to afflict only the royal family, generations before Rarity had been forced to share in her plight.

After about ten minutes the stage lit back up, the scenery changed to that of a snow covered wasteland spotted with caravans as the unicorns traveled. Quill Foal entered from stage left, the band of warlocks at her side. "We are closing in on the land now, I can feel it." Dark Vein spoke first, his hood drawn back over his face.

Rarity's attention was quickly lost as the chatter went on and the play reached a lull, and the characters took inventory. She couldn't keep her eyes away from the robed stallion, even as she tried to immerse herself into the story, her gaze shifted back to his threatening form. The shine from the light made his coal black eyes sparkle and stand out on his shadowed face.

The play droned on for another few minutes before the second intermission. The only real development in the story was discovery of the ancient Princess's corpse. The flag of her grace was planted and the land named in, what the warlocks claimed, the title she gave the promised land.

The show went on and on for almost two hours, although the play itself was only about one In the unicorn playhouse, intermissions were frequent, an old custom from the land before when, in most cases, a body would be found, freshly dead in it's seat. Now, as the life expectancy of an average pony became far less erratic, it was more of an annoying ritual, but it was tolerated as tradition.

After the final ten minute break was when the true story flourished. The players took back to the stage, changing the scene yet again, and the new backdrop was a half built town of stone and bronze. The warlocks ruled with Dark Veins as the reigning regent lord. He fit the role well, his charisma and force equipped him well for control.

He bellowed down on the serfs, commanding them with unequivocal authority. "Expand the walls, arm the battlements, I fear the griffons will not ease their attack." A clattering boom rang out and the stage shook as the hidden actors beneath quaked for effect. "They will strike again! These beasts are relentless, but we shall succeed; I have foreseen our victory! All of you must listen and obey my every order!" The stallion spoke with a mystical voice that fit the character all too well. The background actors all wore thoughtless looks, controlled by the magic and charisma of their dictator.

Quill Foal stood hidden by the warlock's immense shadow, but the new curvature to her body was unmistakable amid her blood red cloak. "Are you quite sure of this my lord?" She asked, a disquieted expression plaguing her beautiful face. Quill Foal clutched at her rounded abdomen as the stage gave one final heave before settling. "Dark-Dark Veins!" She cried, sweat beaded on her face as she clutched her stomach harder. "The child...it is coming, my love!" She shrieked.

Dark Veins nodded, the grim look of a man proved right. "My predictions finally come true. Be calm, the child will live a long healthy life and be trained by the greatest magicians of our age. Yours, however, shall end. Such a fickle thing life is. Its advent brings about the departure of its own self. “He sighed, never shifting his gaze from the horizon. "You have served your lord well and fear not; your death will not be forgotten." He showed no sign of concern as her breath became ragged and her wails quieting down to a few weak yelps. Silence hung over the theatre for a few moments, disturbed only on occasion by shaking of the stage and finally shattered by the cry of a newborn Filly.

Dark Veins ignored the child as well, leaving it lying amidst the filth until one of his followers arrived to carry the still wailing child away. A stout attendant of his stood a full body's length away, respect eclipsed by fear. “My lord, you have a-“

“A daughter, yes. It is as I foreseen.” He never looked away from the walls that buckled under the collective weight of the griffon’s charge before springing back into place. “Bring her to my second, have her learn the ways of our order... without her, our cause will be lost.”

“My lord.” The attendant bowed away, his head so low it almost touched the ground.

“Enough of this.” Dark Veins grumbled as the sound of cracking wooden supports soaked up the night. Without a word, shadows flew from his body and took to the sky, racing about and diving down beyond the walls where the griffons would have stood. “From today, this land is owned by the great Unicorns, the most powerful species to ever walk the land!”

“Exactly why your breed will fall.” The lights shifted, fixing on a newcomer. An actor who wore fake wings and concealed his horn magically stood on the catwalk above. “What good is the land, when the sky has so much more to offer?” The Pegasus dove towards Dark Veins, but was easily dodged and entrapped by his magic. His captive couldn't do much more than produce a high pitched whining noise.

"There is nothing you could tell me that I do not already know." He growled into his prisoners face, both of their breaths came in clouds now as the air chilled magically. "Your people follow ours, and there shall be death...lives wasted on your prejudice against us. Return to your leader with a message. Whatever happens now is your fault-" The actor choked, the famous final line ended prematurely. Unease was shared by a few of the newer cast members, their pre-show jitters justified in the moment.

Still as death the audience sat, waiting for the recovery or shame that the stallion would deliver. Slowly he turned his head, facing towards the audience, shattering the fourth wall with a resonating voice, steeped in otherworld mysticism. "You all shall face the fate that I have foretold. The time is upon you now, though mine has passed by far too quickly in my lives. Heed this warning; your time for redemption has come. Mine has long since faded...” His eyes glowed an unholy purple, lighting up the stage, coloring the planks before him.

The curtains closed hurriedly, the call had been given and the players rushed about, taking their bows and receiving their applause. The grip on the crowd had been lessened causing the applause to come scattered and quietly.

Rarity clapped loudly, unabashed by the doomsday speech. "Drudge," She turned back to her nearest assistant "collect that stallion," she pointed at Dark Veins portrayer "and the mare." Her hoof shifted to focus on the Queen, who looked slimmer by about a size, shockingly large for a lower class women. "Invite them to join the royal family for supper tonight as honoured guests of Lady Rarity." She thanked the servant as he ran off and stood, immediately flanked by her guards who had stealthily taken up position at the exit of the box. She slipped between them with a sigh and made way to the litter that would carry her home.

---

It breached on eight when the family had finally assembled for dinner. The royal family was expansive, branching off into dozens of sub-families who would gather at least once a week for the meal. This week, however, many of the family had been too busy or apathetic of a meaningless dinner with the rumors of rebellion to appear. Instead of the customary near thousand diners, there was closer to two hundred, leaving the majority of the two dozen tables empty.

Rarity arrived, led by the red stallion from the play before. He had been awaiting her arrival just outside the great fort, fixated by the shimmering golden doors. "My great grandfather built this keep with his own two hooves," she gushed as she dragged him between the pillars of smoke scented oak and cherrywood that held up an enchanted steel plated roof. The keep was cavernous, letting her drawling voice echo on for miles perhaps, chewing out her words and spitting garbled specters of the originals out. The tour gave them a trip through the castle, only showing a fraction’s fraction of the true palace. “Do you know where that mare with the marvellous green mane is?” Rarity asked, her soliloquy ending at the archway to the dining hall. “I simply must ask her how she is able to kempt in such a fashion.”

“I’m not sure where Netherierna has gone,” Out of character his voice was calm and quiet, making Rarity strain for the words. “She is always very punctual.” He spoke each syllable with care.

“Ahh, I’m sure she is merely running tardy. You know how actors are...” Rarity nudged him forcefully into the dining hall. "Supper is beginning soon, and I'm sure that they are all excited to see you." Rarity flattered him shamelessly as they strode through, but within her mind she prided herself on her cleverness. "One more week without Great Auntie saddling me with more guilt." Rarity had to resist the urge to jump about with excitement at her plan.

The moment that they entered, Rarity was snatched from his arm, dragged to her cousin's table in a flurry of excitement. The king and his immediate family stood as the center of attention, more so tonight than any other. She was greeted by a wall of babbling nonsense as every member of her family spoke together. Only snippets of what was said made it to her. "Allisian she-

"Your lord uncle has reconsidered-"

"-great celebration!"

Rarity managed to bring down the deafening roar of her excited family down to an understandable thrum. "Uncle Yondala has decided that he is passing on the crown early!" Her cousin's voice bordered between shrill and supersonic. "I will be taking the throne at the end of the year!" The rest of the family bubbled with pride and joy for the soon to be Queen.

"So soon?" Rarity asked, disguising the horror in her voice. "You are so young; it would seem almost a crime to set such responsibility on your slender shoulders." She made certain to speak as carefully and respectfully as she could, remembering all too well what had befallen her late grandmother for telling the girl a smarmy joke that was being passed about in the town. "So much blood..." Rarity stiffled a whimper.

Allisian shrugged, though her eyes started to narrow. "Are you, by chance, saying that I am too young to ascend the throne?" She demanded, even when she whispered her voice carried a sharp sting.

"Of course not, never!" Rarity searched for her escape, hoping to avoid death another day. Finally her eyes found her date and found her excuse. "Congratulations are in order, for both your mother and father as well. Alas, look at that!" She gestured sharply towards the wandering stallion. "He is very easily lost from what I have been told. If you will?" She curtsied, feeling the spastic beating of her heart create an overpowering rush of blood in her ears. Her cousin grunted, her good mood slightly spoiled, but was quickly restored by the new cheering of her toddler relatives who had been woken up to the good news.

Rarity took her place by the stallion who had, luckily, found his way to the table that her branch sat. Before sitting, she cast her gaze about, but still finding not a sign of the green horse.

He smiled as she slid onto the bench, a slight tremble in her legs; the fear of the insane monarch had set off her shudders. "You look like you've seen a ghost." He said, noticing at last her sickly looking paler than white face.

"I've seen more than one... this whole city will become a home for phantoms and shadows." she gulped, forcing down the bile that had risen into her throat. "It's quite alright; I've merely been under the weather of late. Now, I know the time has long since passed, but I must ask; how did you improve such a brilliant finish for your show?" She shoved off the topic of her health, hoping to play to the actor's sense of vanity. "And, I am embarrassed to ask, but what did you say your name was?" The presence of her Great Aunt had been revealed with the elderly mare's loud throat clearing just down the table.

"Tuxedo Crescent, and you needn't be embarrassed, I never said." He told her warmly. "As for my line, I've been wondering the same thing." He paused for a moment, considering the best possible way to explain. "I was standing there and then, I wasn't... I mean, I was still standing there but I wasn't really... I didn't come up with the line on my own, or at all, it was something else." He managed meekly. "I had rehearsed that line almost non-stop since production began. When I stood before the crowd, I felt my fear drift away and something else drift into my own form. Before then I had wanted more than to fill the role as best I could-"

"Which you did, I would have sworn that Dark Veins himself was standing in your very place." Rarity was hoping that the flattery would give some normalcy to the conversation, a covert plea to avert attention, sensing the outcome of his statement.

He was either ignorant to her pleas, or simply ignoring them. "As I stood on the stage, I felt a... feeling come over me, another spirit enter me." The family nearest by looked suspiciously towards him as he said that.

"Please, stop talking..." She muttered, her already unsteady heartbeat reaching dangerous levels. What the stallion said next nearly sent her into cardiac arrest.

"It was Dark Veins himself, come again! He must have needed my physical form to pass on his final message!" He told her proudly. Rarity let her head fall onto her jittering hooves which were laid flat on the table. A whisper passed through the hall, quick as lightning, and soon everypony at the feast was staring at him. Even as an actor he felt uncomfortable with the eyes staring at him, livid expressions were shared by all. "What is going on?" He asked Rarity who still had her head in her hooves, but it was now rocking back and forth.

"So," The king spoke calmly addressing the guest in a cool voice. "you claim to have been possessed?" The hall had been enveloped by silence, save for the sound of Rarity's head lolling about on her legs. "that is no light statement." The king continued, standing now and making his way over to the now uncomfortable unicorn.

"Well, your grace, you see I only meant that I paid him a tribute only he could have thought of." He spluttered in panic.

"Funny, as it was you had made the claim of his sprit passing into your own body." the king drew closer and the slithering sound of metal on leather edged his words. "A true magician of our people would never allow their bodies to be ruled by a specter. Only a warlock of yore would practice magic as dark." The accusation was clear and the shock was evident on everypony within the hall, with the exception of Rarity who had shut herself away from reality.

"Your grace, I-I meant no dishonor, no disrespect-" The stallion had started to sweat and shrink away from the king in fear.

"Disrespect? DISRESPECT?" The king bellowed now, shouts that rebounded about the keep. Servants could hear him in their quarters and the royal magicians in their solitary towers ignored their studies in fear. "This is no disrespect! This is blasphemy and criminal! Your breed toy with the fragile fabric of our world, calling on powers that no single horse should ever own!" His blade left its exquisite leather sheath, the sparkling clean, whetted steel humming with energy as the king's pale gold magic held it aloft by its platinum hilt. "My ancestors would put your kind to the sword!" He pressed the edge of his blade against Crescent's throat, holding the rivets of sweat in place under his chin. "Should I be any different?" He asked, mockingly begging the answer from Crescent.

"Sir, show mercy." Too scared for tears, Tuxedo Crescent voice was staggered now by the lump rising in his throat.

"I had every intent." The king answered, drawing the blade surgically across his throat, sending blood billowing through the air, every drop being caught by hidden servants and their magic. "I have shown great mercy on the rest of my people."

Rarity had run the moment the blade had left it's home at the king's hip. She now stood in the kitchen, fighting back tears and praying to the Great One that her uncle would for once show generosity. That hope was dashed with the sound of gurgling and the thud of a body slumping to the cold stone floor. She fled deeper into the kitchens, tears freely flowing down her face now as she ran.

The pantry ended her trek, providing a hiding spot for the terrified pony. She kicked the door behind her and it swung, tapping the frame gently but not closing entirely. Rarity sat and sobbed, praying once more, now for Crescent's peaceful passage into the next life. Courses left the kitchens and the family ate without her, momentarily forgetting the lady Rarity.

She waited within the pantry, letting her eyes dry and the puffy red rings vanish before leaving. Opening the door quietly, she stepped out and found that two cooks, both mares stood in her path, preparing the dinner. They spoke to each other in guttural voices, lowborn slang plaguing their words. "Gramps want the stew out yet?" One of them called and Rarity assumed she meant her uncle.

"Nah, he's still finishing off the leafys." Another female voice called from out of sight.

The mare who had spoken grunted and turned to her companion. "You'd think with all the trouble Gramps makes us go through for this food; he'd want to feed the gits sooner." She whined, stirring the cauldron that steamed in front of her.

"What you talking about? This one walked up to us, good eating too. Might have me a nibble 'fore the gits get their taste." The second grungy looking mare told her with a laugh, the steady snik of a knife cutting through thick bundles punctuated her words. "Wouldn't mind me some of them quakes for a full belly."

"Atorrante! They'd give you a Pegasus smile they would. You start quakin' and all of us would get 'em!" The first mare shouted, turning her body to clock the shorter horse across her head. "You're the smart one round here, can't be saying stupid things like that."

Rarity had stopped listening, and was instead looking past the conversing slaves, passed the brown stained knife, and the blood soaked hooves. She saw passed all of those, noticing only the raw red meat and the clumps of brilliant green hair discarded about the table on everything but the bloodstained cutting board. She looked down at her shaking legs and vomited. She was aware of the two mares turning to face her before the world went black, the last thing she smelled was the vile reek of her own sick before the world turned black as her head hit the ground, reverberating ringing bouncing about her head like shouts in the keep.

---

Lord Royal Waltz sat across the table from his sickly daughter, the pleasant sounds of her sister playing in the next room offered little solace for either. "It is kept from the young ones, and even most of the elders are withheld the secret. Of all your living relatives only I and your grandfather know of our diet." Rarity's father said in a hushed tone, hoping to spare his youngest daughter the trauma. "I had hoped you would stay ignorant with your cousins, and that the burden would die with me, but that simply isn't the work of things." He sighed. "Please, dear, say something. I've already lost your mother; I could not lose you as well."

"It was I who led her to the castle... if not for me she would live." Rarity said, louder than Royal Waltz would have liked. A bucket was clenched in her hooves emitting a horrid reek. “She came by my invitation and died because of it.” Sweetie Bell’s toys stopped making their clattering and Royal Waltz knew she was trying to listen in.

“You could not have known-“

“I could have guessed!” She shouted now, flinging the half full pail to the floor. The tin clanged on the floor and her vomit pooled out onto the planks.

“What’s going on?” Sweetie Bell stuck her head in, curious of the ruckus in her home.

“Nothing honey, your sister and I are just discussing...your birthday gift. She is ashamed of me for finding you the most obvious gift I could!” He lied, trying to divert the child. “Either way, it is time for you to sleep, the teachers want you rested.”

Sweetie grumbled as she walked away, complaining about how little time her father spent “discussing” with her. “Please Rarity; keep this away from the family. It is best if they didn’t know.” Royal Waltz stood, heading to his chambers.

“Father,” Rarity whispered from the table.

Royal Waltz whipped around. “Yes dear?”

“The royal family has existed to give a model to the rest of the race to live by. Is that not what I was taught?” Rarity asked as she stood to retrieve her bucket.

“Yes, of course...I know how that must make us sound after what has transpired.”

“No, I still know my duty...the secret is safe with me.” Rarity vowed to her father.

“Good. Thank you.” Her father smiled warmly. He crossed to the other side and drew his daughter into a hug before giving her a peck on the forehead. “Now, get to bed. Try and get some sleep.”

Rarity nodded at her father’s request, but remained in the room as he left. The words of her teachers and family stuck in her mind. “My duty is to protect them... and I shall.” Determination swept through her and, suddenly, a plan formed. It was gruesome, brilliant and would no doubt add more fuel to the flame of rebellion. “But it is my duty. I will not fail them.” Rarity swore, with the same sincerity that she had promised her father.

“I will give them the safety they deserve, or perish trying.”

Once again big thanks to Bob for, not only the editing, but the wonderful cover art he made me for this story. I am not worthy, I am not worthy. I think that is my quota of groveling done. For real, huge thanks man