All's Fair
“Cadance, sweetness. You need to relax.”
“Relax! I can’t just relax, Brass. This is the Millennial Fair we’re talking about here. You know, the one that only comes once a millennia? And I have to oversee everything!” Cadance rounded on her scribe, this morning’s somewhat sloppily applied makeup making her eyes seem dark and manic, and seized his collar in trembling hooves, shaking him for emphasis.
“If I drop my guard for an instant, it will all go to Tartarus in a hoof-basket, crumbling around me like a house of cards! The nevermelting ice sculptures set up in the plazas will melt, I’ll forget how to read and my speech will be ruined, Pinkie will find the Empire’s secret cache of fireworks and candy, Sombra will return for a second reign of terror on a giant parade float! Aunt Tia and Lulu will be replaced with Chrysalises!”
Realizing belatedly that her voice had come dangerously close to a shriek of terror, she coughed nervously and smiled in what she hoped was a soothing facsimile of her Aunts’ expression at the sudden crowd of worried employees. Once again, she heard Shiny’s laughter when she’d told him she could fall prey to intense panic attacks. She’d been only a little shocked when he’d said he’d already known. After all, his parents were very level-headed ponies, and Twilight had to have picked it up from somepony.
“I’m sorry about that, Brass. I didn’t get the best sleep last night and Shiny and I switched to decaf for health reasons, and I really thought my therapist had helped me work through that last part.” She chattered nervously, rubbing a hoof self-consciously against a foreleg as the pristine stallion smoothed his mussed collar haughtily, though a small grin was visible on his muzzle in between flicks of his curly, golden locks.
“No apology needed,darling. I know how stressful these situations can be, after all the Maker only knows how many of them I helped Celestia work through.”
Cadance sighed as, slowly, the assortment of staffponies dispersed under the calm, assuring and most likely practiced words of her lent assistant, Brass Tact.
She doubted, if she lived through this event, that she’d ever be able to find a way to thank her aunts for sending the hardworking aide. He’d proven himself a necessity in keeping, not only her sanity, but the plans for the festivities moving smoothly. The Fair was taking so much out of her, she just wished she could grab her sister-in-law and her friends who were soon to arrive, slap a checklist in their stunned hooves and throw them to the rabid piranhas of the Festivities Committee.
But, of course, she would never do such a thing. Good sister-in-laws didn’t foist their problems off on their perfectly precious purple pony sisters. But that was one of the two major reasons she liked Brass. Not only was it his job, but he actually enjoyed being under pressure. She knew she should try to be a little more productive, but it was hard to feel bad about relaxing a little when he tossed her his playful grin and forced her to delegate more of her workload.
She blinked in surprise as her favorite coffee mug, one of a matching set stenciled with Shining’s and her own cutie mark and the word Love Bugs that Twilight had given her for their anniversary, was suddenly presented to her, suspended in rigid bronze bands of magic.Her horn lit up instinctively to snatch the heavenly chalice, but she hesitated.
“Oh, Brass, thank you. It looks lovely, but Shiny and I—”
“Sweetness, please. I’m a professional.” He gave an affronted sniff. “Decaf.”
“Oh, thank Auntie.” Softening her desperate grab for the mug with a grateful smile, she took as long of a sip as decorum allowed before giving a satisfied sigh. “What would I have to pay you to get you to move here permanently, Brass?”
The assistant snorted condescendingly. “Honey, you could give me the keys to the kingdom right now and I’d hoof them back and trot away. It’s too sparkly here for my tastes, and coming from me, that’s saying something.”
“Nonsense, I’m sure you could get used to it. Shiny only had to wear those sunglasses for the first few months!”
Brass halted in his tracks and sucked in a horrified gasp, a manicured hoof even reaching up to cover his slack jaw. “Sunglasses?! Oh, no. Sunglasses and I do not mingle sweetie. And besides, you know Equestrian ponies like me and your hubby can’t adapt to the brightness like your Imperial ponies can. A natural eye adaptation, right? Her Royal Huffyness Moon Candy was interested in it.”
Picking their pace back up after his dramatic fashion announcement, Brass hummed thoughtfully and glanced up at her.
“But speaking of that hubby of yours, how’s he handling his end of all this business? I’d like to offer a hoof to help...among other things, but he keeps turning me down.”
Cadance had to take a hurried sip of her decaf to hide the wide grin and bubbly giggle that erupted as the stallion pouted like a little filly. She knew for a fact that Shining was having just as tough of a time with it as she was. They’d pulled lots out of a hat to see who had to deal with the noble ponies for the duration of the Fair and he’d gotten the red card, and that on top of having to detail guard duties for both the common pony and for the Crystal Heart, which would be the main attraction was taking it’s toll.
No, the real reason he’d turned down Brass’ help was also the second, and second best reason she liked having him around so much.
“Mmm, what I wouldn’t give to get down and dirty on a little Fair planning with that stallion of yours.”
Sadly, even decaf couldn’t completely smother the giggles that erupted from her muzzle that time.
“Actually, Honey, I’ve changed my mind. I’ll stay if you hoof over the chiseled pretty boy.”
Shining looked up from the papers lining the coffee table of their more modest personal suite, a steaming mug grasped in his pink magic as the pair stepped inside, laughing loudly.
“What’s so funny?” He asked, taking a sip from his mug.
“Oh, nothing you need to worry that hunky head of yours about, Studly.” Brass tossed a wink at him. Cadance had a feeling that that shiver of his had nothing to do with the taste of coffee.
Trotting over to their suite’s kitchenette to refill her mug, her anticipatory grin widened as she heard the soft creak of another pony seating themselves on the couch. She’d been a little concerned with Brass’ antics at first, but a few questions and a little leaning on her love magic had assured her that Brass’ only intent was to tease Shining a little. She couldn’t blame him either, it was adorable how flustered and awkward Shiny could get sometimes.
“So how was your day, handsome?”
“F-fine.”
“You sure are.”
“I think he’s had enough, Brass.” Cadance didn’t bother to hide her laughter as the stallion stopped fluttering his eyelashes over the huddling mass trying to force itself into the cushions that was her husband.
Brass conceded the vacancy with a smug grin and theatrical sigh to Cadance as he pulled a stack of papers out of his saddlebags, arranging them on the neater side of the table away from the mess of lists and patrol routes in front of Shining.
“But seriously Shiny, how was your day? I know you and the nobility don’t really get along.” She placed a pink wing on his shoulder.
“Oh, it wasn’t too bad. The only real difficulty was merging their personal guards with ours. They were too busy arguing with each other over who would be the first to pledge to pay the rest of us much mind.” He shrugged.
“Pledge?” Brass looked up from his papers. “I wasn’t told you’d be pledged anything, Cadance.”
“Oh, I won’t be,” Cadance denied, shaking her tri-color mane. “The pledges made by the lords and ladies will be to the Crystal Heart. The Fair is a re-enactment of sorts. The nobility reaffirms their oaths to unity, peace and love for the Empire under the Heart.The actual Fair is just the celebration that follows.”
“I still don’t see what the big deal is.” Shining huffed, taking a gulp from his mug and pulling a face. Lukewarm coffee. “What’s it matter who goes first? Everyone will get a turn, right?”
“Well it is the defining icon of your nation.” Brass chuckled. “It’s a pride thing. If the regions that were the first to join the Empire’s banner get to make their pledges before everypony else, they can lord it over the others about how they’re still the most loyal. And on the flip side, the others want the position to prove that they’re just as loyal as them.”
“And don’t forget that proving how loyal you are is a good way to keep the citizenry proud of you.” Cadance rolled her eyes.
Shining hesitated before taking a sip. “So it’s PR, basically?”
“Yep!” Both ponies sighed, shaking their heads. Nobility would never change.
Shining groaned into his cup, making Cadance laugh. “Did they manage to decide who would be getting such a prestigious honor, at least?”
“Yeah, all the older ones didn’t want their rivals to go first so the position went to the youngest heads. Hoofing the torch or something.” Shining rolled his eyes as he pulled a list of names from the mess of papers on the table.
“So it’ll be...Beryl, Torc, Calister and Crux.”
“Hmm. Brass, didn’t I receive a letter concerning Calister the other day?”
“Yes you did, Sweetness. From Lord Godric, I think.”
“What about?” Shining asked.
“Well, he was a little concerned about Calister’s recent track record with a few of the other nobles. He cautioned us to be careful at the Fair, especially once Crux shows up, but he didn’t say why.”
Shining blinked in surprise as Cadance burst into laughter.
“Oh, I’m sorry, but can you imagine? Beryl caught between those three?”
“Oh no, she’ll be ripped to pieces in the crossfire.” Shining groaned, rubbing his forehead. “I didn’t even think of that.”
Brass chuckled.“But that makes me wonder, why all this pledging for the Heart? Is it tradition?”
Cadance nodded.“It goes back to the forming of the Empire. The regions the nobles preside over used to be city states under constant attack by windigos and harsh conditions. It wasn’t until my ancestors discovered the heart and used it to unite the city states that the Empire was first conceived. They didn’t flock to the banner at first, either. It took almost a century to bring them all together.”
“Wait, discovered?” Brass leaned forward over the desk, papers pressed under his barrel lying forgotten for the moment. “Your ancestors found the Heart? If it wasn’t made, then where did they find it?”
Cadance giggled, shaking her head. “Nope, we didn’t make the Heart. It has strong ties to the magic of this land, and the majority of the crystal ponies in those times were earth ponies. We’ve had a few scholars who’ve speculated, but as for where we found it, nopony really knows. The ponies who would have been present at the time had already passed away before Sombra’s takeover and now, a thousand years later, there’s barely anything left to go on.”
“All we know for sure is that it came from somewhere in the Crystal Mountain Range,” Shining mumbled. His horn lit up as he levitated a new steaming cup into his grip.
Brass tapped his chin with a hoof. “That’s a shame. Your nation’s symbol is an artifact of great power and no one knows where it came from. But at least your little problem with Beryl and the others is solved easily enough.”
“It is?” Shining blinked.
“From what you and Sweetness have told me, just get the three of them together to iron out the nastiness before the ceremony. Maybe you’ll get lucky and they’ll snark each other to death. Problem solved.”
The slow ticking of the clock overhead punctuated the oppressive silence. Though the windowless room had obviously been designed for comfort, with its dark, intricately carved wooden furniture and thick carpets, the post furniture did little to comfort the stricken filly who lay in the corner farthest from the door.
She lay surrounded by a fort of sorts, made from the thickest of manuscripts she could find in the dreary domicile’s bookcase. Their titles ranged from compiled literature to the biological texts of a professor with a name too long to pronounce, reminding her of safer times in the orphanage before she’d met a certain pegasus. When she would bury herself in the pages of her favorite texts, imagining she herself stood in the horseshoes of famous ponies throughout history, unintentionally raising around herself a castle built of tales from times long past. But just as when one of the matrons came to steal her from her bound ramparts and place her once more amongst strangers, the defensive volumes no longer offered their comforts.
Not that she begrudged the experiences much, mind you. After all if she hadn’t been forced to socialise, she would have never met the pony that had made all those years bearable. Olive rubbed the bridge of her muzzle, attempting to soothe that peculiar aching itch associated with bruises. She flinched as her hoof grazed just that little bit too hard against a particularly sensitive bit of discolored skin partially hidden beneath the green tones of her coat. She frowned, huffing thickly through a nose still congested with blood at the offending appendage.
It had been difficult to ascertain the extent of the damage her muzzle had received from the metal frame of her glasses. Her improvised cell did indeed come equipped with a large mirror but her eyes’ natural astigmatisms revealed little to her aside from the blurry, green splotches of color she’d come to associate her person with without her lenses. Prodding sections of her muzzle to determine the size and area of damage had been irritating to say the least, but the only thing she could think about was how thankful she was that the orphanage had planned ahead and given the foals that needed them shatter-proof lenses, though unfortunately, that hadn’t kept hers from webbing with enough cracks to render them useless.
The ride in the carriage sandwiched between two ponies who’d watched her like hawks the entire duration, to say little of the physical punishment she’d received by being dragged about in a burlap sack and dropped on her muzzle, had been one of the worst experiences of her short life. The shorter stallion had been proven to be deceptively strong despite his size as he pulled the carriage the entire distance alone, whistling some sort of hellish shantie, and this had left the other two, her original foalnapper and his silent unicorn companion, to be the ones to keep her ‘company’ for their trip.
They’d spent most of the trip attempting to coerce her into releasing the crystal discus from her pocket dimension,the angry stallion had not been above using force but she had been spared his violence by the unicorn who had not spoken a word before until that moment, her voice a strangely low, husky sound as though speaking did not come naturally to her.
“Leave the foal be, Rivet. Milady will decide what to do with her when we arrive, and I do not think she will appreciate her guests arriving...damaged.”
Olive had flinched as his resulting snort had blasted hot air on her still sensitive face and he dropped her back onto the cushion beside the unicorn before stepping outside, the driver’s whistling increasing in volume before the door slammed shut.
Tucking her forelimbs under her chest and trying her best to make herself as small of a target as possible without touching her bloody muzzle, she gasped as a soft cloth was suddenly pressed against her nostrils. Olive grit her teeth against the trapped heat and aching in her nose as the firm, yet gentle ministrations of the hoofkerchief wiped away the traces of blood and tears.
“There, now you are somewhat presentable.”
She resisted the urge to rub at her suddenly itchy muzzle as the mare’s low voice rolled over her making her eyes snap open to observe the unicorn as she tucked a blurry object that must have been the cloth back into a pocket in her cloak.
“T-thank you,” Olive whispered.
“Do not mistake this for kindness.The Mistress would be most distressed to bear witness to a foal covered in blood, that is all.”
Hunching down against the flat tone in the mare’s voice, the filly curled back into a ball and waited out the slow ride, trying her best to ignore the stare of the older mare that she could feel under her coat like crawling ants.
Whoever this Mistress was, Olive hadn’t been give the pleasure of meeting her. As soon as they had arrived in the strange place the mare had left her with the two stallions and gone to announce their arrival. Apparently she had been busy with something else, for barely a hoofful of minutes had passed before the mare had returned, dismissing the two earth ponies and beckoning to her with her husky voice.
“Follow me.”
Even without her glasses, Olive could tell that whoever owned this place had a very different idea of what amounted to an attractive home than Mr.Crux did. Her adoptive father liked solid walls and hallways, oaken furniture and rooms lit with warm hearths and candlelight that gave them a comforting coziness regardless of the time of day.
This place, if they could be compared, could be said to be its exact opposite. Most of the building was constructed from a strange white material that after a hesitant inspection driven by boredom in her first few hours, she had determined to be some sort of white wood. There were no hallways that she could see, the separate sections of housing spaced apart with cobbled walkways connecting them, gold arches spanning pillars of that same white wood and reflected the strange, ethereal light given off by the undoubtedly strangest feature of this new locale
The trees.
She had at first thought them to be more pillars, though she could not understand why they would be scattered so thickly and randomly throughout the gardens lining the paths until she had looked up and seen their defining features. Their tops were capped in leaves that seemed to shine with the colors of autumn epitomized.
Golds, bronzes, reds and yellows all gave forth a soft glow that was reflected off of their smooth, bleached trunks and the golden capped pillars and red tiled rooftops of the surrounding buildings. And there were hundreds of them, no matter where she turned her blurry vision, all she could see in the distance around this place was a darkening night lit by an undulating sea of glowing canopies, tossing like waves under a gentle breeze that blew through their unnatural beauty.
Had she not been pressed to keep pace with the strange mare’s much longer stride, Olive had no doubt she would have been more than happy to lose herself in a walk through such an enchanting place. They stopped outside of a smaller arrangement of rooms across the grounds from the main building where the mare spun around and stared down at the panting filly.
“This will be your place of residence until Milady decides otherwise. Do not try anything. I will be listening.”
Nervously swallowing, Olive obediently trotted inside as the intricately embossed red door gave a soft click and swung silently closed behind her on oiled hinges in the grip of the mare’s magic.
And here Olive had sat and waited for several hours, the anticipation and dread of awaiting the arrival of a mysterious captor having long worn off with the ticking of the painstakingly polished grandfather clock. She had even tried to read a few of the books that made up her fort out of desperation despite her lack of distinct vision, glancing over texts on imperial flora and fauna as well as an autobiography that had looked to be as dry as the Badlands. Though a bookworm she might be, she was still a foal and even her favorite pastime could not keep her entertained forever.
So it was with an emotion approaching relief that she looked up, her ears flicking toward the door handle as it turned with a soft click, the door swinging open to permit two ponies entry. Unsurprisingly, one of them was her quasi-jailor but the other looked to be an earth pony maid as she pushed what appeared to be a cart of some kind.
“Desist.”
Olive thought she had seen the maid flinch at the flat voice of the unicorn, but couldn’t be certain before her attention was caught by the mare clearing her throat in front of her.
“Y-yes?”
“Milady is too busy to grant you an audience tonight. You will be brought before her in the morning. Until then, Milady has seen fit to offer you a meal and other amenities.”
She waved a hoof toward the cart and the domed platters that covered it, along with assorted medical supplies and a pitcher that she assumed was filled with some sort of liquid.
“Since you are a unicorn and therefore do not need them, you have not been provided with silverware, eliminating the necessity for me to observe you while you eat. You have also been provided with rubbing alcohol and bandages for your face. Do not abuse the privilege.”
Olive glanced over to the laden cart and its attendant before returning to hesitantly meeting the steely gaze of the unicorn. “Um, are there any cotton swabs I could use? I wouldn’t ask but I...can’t see for myself.”
“Yes, miss,” a demure voice piped up from the hesitant pony attending the cart. “There are several swabs and milady saw fit to provide you with replacements for your—”
Olive flinched at the harsh crack of the unicorn mare’s hoof against the maid’s cheek, sending her reeling a few steps until her hooves steadied beneath her.
“Did I not tell you that you were not to speak to Milady’s guest?” The mare’s low voice held a certain edge to it that caused the coat on the back of Olive’s neck to stand stiff as the maid held her cheek in a supportive hoof.
“Y-yes ma’am, you did. I’m sorry ma’am, it won’t happen again.”
“Make sure it does not. You are dismissed.”
The maid curtsied hurriedly before dashing out of the room as fast as decorum would allow, her eyes glistening with what Olive could see were held tears. Her ears pressed flat against her skull as the mare turned to regard her, her mouth curving slightly at one edge in an approximation of amusement at the the reaction.
“Worry not. I will not strike you.” With a brief glow of her horn, the cart pulled itself to a gentle stop in front of her improvised novel structure and the mare stepped slowly out of the room, pulling the door behind her.
“As long as you do not try to escape.”
Olive hunched further down in her fort as the door was shut and the sound of a lock turning filled the room before silence returned, broken only by the relentless efforts of the clock. As she listened to the steps of the unicorn fade away into nothingness, her eyes latched on to the cart draped with its white cloth and burdened with its contents. She didn’t know how long she’d been watching it before a low growl caused a spark of panic that faded quickly as she realized the sound had come from within her own gut.
Breathing a thick sigh, she stood up on four legs shaky from prolonged sitting on the floor and made her way closer to the assortment of trays. Her horn was wrapped in a green aura as she raised the lid off of one of the platters to reveal a small pile of cucumber sandwiches, sliced diagonally. Not one to complain about their simplicity hungry as she was, she quickly busied herself with munching as she rummaged through the promised bag of medical supplies, pulling out a bottle of what, after pulling off the cap and getting a hint of its scent, she affirmed to be rubbing alcohol and several cotton swabs.
As she began to turn around and get comfortable before applying the stinging solution, her eye was caught by the play of light off of another item lying amongst the platters. Lifting it up before her eyes, she gasped as she beheld it in all its framed glory.
A pair of coke-bottle glasses.
“So these were the replacements the maid had mentioned.”
Her spirits momentarily lifted at the prospect of being able to see beyond her eyelashes, she quickly placed the frames on her muzzle, careful of the delicate bruises before she noticed something curious about these particular spectacles. They had words painted on their bridge, in curvy white paint that caused her heart to pound in her chest as she read them, having seen them so often that she had no need of clear eyesight to discern their meaning.
Olivia P. Inkwell.
“That’s my name. These are my back-up glasses. B-but how did they get he—”
It was as she uncrossed her eyes from the bridge of her glasses that her vision swept once more across the cart that had held this unexpected mystery. And as she gazed at the spot underneath where the lenses had been placed, she felt a warmth blossom in her chest and moisture spring to her eyes as fresh tears began to carve new tracks down her face, though these for a different reason.
There lay a tan feather, a large pinion plucked from the wing of a pegasus, no doubt. A mystery that needed no solving.
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I like to think there's a little bit of Cadence in all of us.
I have half a mind to guess that Beryl is the "mistress" behind the kidnapping, if only because it runs contrary our favorite Prince and Princess' opinions on her character in the previous scene. I'm grasping at straws, but it would make for a good red herring. Actually, it would make a decent red herring either way.
Huh. I guess I always thought of it like unicorns were the only ones who used silverware, since hooves aren't really made for gripping. Not that it stops our little ponies from using their magnethooves in every episode. Heh.
I think you're doing marvelously with commas, with maybe a few areas that need polish. One rule I know I remember correctly is that you link dependent clauses to independent clauses using a comma.
Let's see if I can remember this right...
Clauses are complete ideas within a sentence. Independent clauses are parts of the sentence that could be a sentence on their own, while dependent clauses are parts of the sentence that could not be a sentence on their own.
I've said before that I do this by feel, so I may not be totally correct... But I have an inkling.
4083853
Thanks for the attention on that last sentence, I'll go take a look at it.
Now, as for your suspicions of Beryl...
static.fjcdn.com/gifs/Intense+Plot+Twist+.+Woah_07617e_4287606.gif
I'm not sure whether I should feel accomplishment or defeat at the fact that I've finally just decided to stick with the idea that these ponies can grasp whatever they darn well please with their suction-hooves. It saves me a few headaches.
Do you believe in magic?
4092674
It's really a general suggestion. Just something for you to pay close attention to as you go. Your grammar has improved considerably since the story started, for sure.
Say no more, Mobytums. Say no more.
I say accomplished, since it is the simplest route. Go too deep and you start getting into either earth pony magic or weird suction organs on the bottom of their feet, and the story doesn't really need to go on about that, and...
Well, you should feel accomplished that you decided to go for the more succinct route.
Oops. I'm going to completely ruin your joke right here by asking you to explain it.
So sorry.
4093382
I'm not entirely sure whether the request for an explanation was serious or not due to the twilight emote which makes me think "It's magic, I ain't gotta explain..." yada, yada.
But, just to be on the safe side. I'm not really sure why, but when I read that line all I could think about was the ending credits song to Peter Pan 2.
"Do you believe in magic~."
4093810
Look closer, she's blushing sheepishly. Like moi.
Totally sincere. It's been forever since I watched a Peter Pan anything.
I actually think I've read the book more recently than i watched that particular movie, and that was years ago.
So, yeah. Okay. Gotch'ya. Thanks. Sorry about killing your joke.
4093867
Ah, that's alright. It wasn't good anyway.
No harm done.
I had this story in my read later list since last year.
Having some time to burn at work and a safe manager, I've been going through the backlog.
I've come to the conclusion that that was one of my better decisions this year; this fic is so good I've read all the chapter back to back.
Damn you're good.
Plot twists and feels like a pro.
I have the same eye condition as Olive, through nowhere near as bad. What confuses me is that she can't see items on that trolley very well, but she has read some books whilst there. Just seems inconsistent.
Keep up the good work though, I eagerly await the next chapter
4105817
Well, I don't exactly feel like a pro, but I'm glad you think so and I'm glad you're liking it!
I'm thinking the confusion with the books was due to my not describing the situation enough. She hadn't read the books, but was just piling them around herself to make things a little more comfortable. I described the books with their names as I did to relate that she picked the biggest texts, and therefore most likely to be long and informative, that she could find out of habit.
Sorry about the mix up.