Grazing on the Hilltops of Winchester Grange

by EuclideanPony

Breakfast With Good Friends

The morning was a misty one, much to the distress of Merriam. "Oh, why must we...", a sneeze interrupted her sentence, "ugh...excuse me, why must we step out into this dreadful weather at such an early hour?" She refrained from beholding the appearance of trudging down the road. Gabriel simply looked at her and smiled.

"How in all of Equestria could you consider this dreadful? It's a wonderful morning! Just look at the clouds; they're so close, I feel like I could take off and soar through the sky. It's a shame I wasn't born a Pegasus." He directed his gaze up into the deep blue sky, cut through with stretches of clouds, all blurry in the haze of vapor that hung over the land. Too tired to contribute to the conversation, I simply stumbled along behind the two. "Besides, even if it were dreadful, we wouldn't want to demonstrate impoliteness toward the Tarch family. They invited us to a breakfast early on this very morning, and so to the breakfast we must go!" We came upon the urban Grange in little-to-no time, spotting the pillared building with golden letters that spelled out 'Rudge Acres'. It resembled, in its architectural design, the Trojan Pantheon*, with its marble columns arranged across the face, the wide steps stretching across the entire width of the edifice, and the triangular roof designed for structural support. Farther down the brick road, past the residents and shops that lined either side, lay the town square, the intersection of Saddle Street and Rudge Avenue. Even as early as it was, there were many early-bird ponies trotting in miscellaneous directions in the middle of the Grange. Many of them, well acquainted with the Rudge family, waved to us as we walked by. We took a right at the intersection, and kept on forward past Derby street until we arrived at the large Cul-de-sac known as The Lord's Parish. Many Victorian-style homes lined the circumventing area around the road, all of which were obviously ubiquitously designed in the same appearance for uniformity. The largest residence, that of Radigan Tarch, sat in the middle of the circular array of houses, with its front gate wide open. We made our way into the frontal yard of the property, which contained the most well-kept grass in all of Equestria (Rhinemane Manor not withstanding), a large wall of hedges that provided a sort of inner-gate, and circles of extremely colorful flowers. The brick path spanning from the gate to the front steps of the house was in superb condition; not a single brick crooked, tilted, chipped, out of place, or in any other form of imperfection. The house itself was also made of brick, although said brick was of a slighter tint of red. Two half-towers, amalgamated into the bulk of the structure, sat on either side of the central face of the building, which itself was lined with expansive windows. The property looked to be extremely symetrical in design, and had been composed in such a meticulous manner, that one would assume it to have taken centuries to reach completion, and required endless amounts of labor to maintain itself. We eventually reached the front door, which was of a hard, thick wood painted over in the loveliest color of white. Gabriel sounded a few rapacious yet controlled strikes on the door, and we awaited permission for entrance. The door was opened by a well-dressed steward pony, who, with a bow and a gesture, guided us into the house. The interior matched the exterior in extravagance to a tee; polished wooden floors, a large, open foyer, and the scent of innumerable breakfast dishes coming from somewhere to the left. There was an overhanging walkway that hugged the upper section of the foyer's walls, all lined with black metal railing. We heard hoofsteps coming from just above us on the walkway. Radigan came into view after he had walked some ways down the walkway, and began to descend the steps that lay on either side of the wall opposite to the door.

"Gabriel! Jolly glad that you could make it to breakfast, my friend!", he said. The steward stepped over and began to take off our coats, then hung them on a near-by banister suspended from the adjoining wall. "Priscilla, our wonderful chef, has prepared a marvelous morning meal that I'm sure you'll enjoy to the last bite!"

"I cannot thank you enough for such a lovely gesture, Radigan!", returned my father. "It's been far too long since I've sunk my palate into some of Priscilla's wonderful confections." Radigan had, by that point in the conversation, reached us by the door, and began to escort us to the dining hall. As my olfactory senses suggested, it was over to the left.

Radigan extended his hoof to Merriam and gave her a proper greeting. "In all of these years I've known Gabriel, I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of formally addressing his head servant. It's very nice to finally speak with you, Merriam."

She let him take her hoof in his. "Entirely enchanted, Mr. Tarch." Radigan stepped over to me and patted me firmly on the back.

"What about yourself, Gabarlile? Have you been doing well at Birchbrook Academy?"

"Yes sir, I'm the best in my class at mathematics and history."

He let out an admiring laugh. "You remind me of your father when he was your age. He and I attended Birchbrook together, and he was always outwitting the rest of his class; especially when it came to the upper-level courses such as economics and finance. I, admittedly, was only talented in the realm of music, but that didn't stop me from becoming wealthy. Today, I'm one of the world's leading composers. Remember this, Gabarlile: no matter what you end up doing, if you put your mind to it, and stick through the hard work, you can accomplish anything."

"Words of true wisdom, son. You'd do well to keep them in mind.", said my father. We continued down the vast hallway that lay before us. I looked up at the walls to see large portraits of Radigan, his family, and what seemed to be a long line of his ancestors. The pictures, unlike many of such nature, seemed to have a spirit of liveliness contained in their frames. Radigan himself was smiling in every pose immortalized by the artist of these fine depictions, with his front left hoof always resting on some object of practical or serene beauty; it was only natural, for he did look so absolutely splendid in such a pose that one would suppose him to have practiced it day in and day out. We came to a large double door on the right side of the hallway. Radigan opened it to its full arcing length, and put his hoof forward as an inviting gesture. We stepped inside one of the most exquisite dining halls I've ever since lain eyes upon. There were two long oaken tables, instead of Rhinemane's singular furnishing, both stretching the length of the entire room. The platters laid upon the table were of fine untarnished silver, as were most of the utensils and containers that ornamented the tabletop. The glasses, four of which were filled with wine, two with milk, were crystal clear shapes of beauty that resembled flowing water in their curvatures.

"Please, my friends. Have a seat while Priscilla completes her fine morning cuisine." The steward, who had been following us from behind, assisted Merriam and me with our seats, and respectfully allowed Gabriel to seat himself. My father was seated closest to the head of the table, where Radigan would sit, of course. Merriam sat on the opposite side of the table from Gabriel, a seat away from the head. My seat was next to my father's, with a glass of milk beside my plate. The other glass of milk was on the plate next to mine. After we were seated, Mrs. Tarch and Christina walked into the dining hall, both donned in matching blue dresses.

"What a splendid morning to have you and your companions as breakfast guests, Gabriel.", said the elder. "I know you'll just love Priscilla's orange scones."

"It's a pleasure to be here, Helena. I wouldn't pass up an opportunity to dine with my friends at any moment."

Christina cast a glance at me, breaking her composed stride for only a moment. In that glance stood some sort of dichotomous contempt; she seemed to have a sort of feasible aversion to my presence, but some glimmer of....was it admiration?....something lingered behind her cold attitude. The mother-daughter pair took their seats at the table, Helena Tarch opposite to my father and Christina beside myself.

"So, Gabriel, I heard that you met with the Duke of Alicorns at Merrygallant Hotel yesterday afternoon.", said Radigan. "You must regale me with the details of the business proposition."

"Oh, dear, must we really talk economics at the breakfast table? This is a social get-together, not a banker's meeting.", complained Helena.

"It can be a social get-together if you please, dear. If you wish to fritter away with trivial conversation, gossip with Merriam." Helena lightly shrugged her shoulders and started to talk about recent happenings with Merriam.

"Anyhow....Gabriel. Do go on about this matter." Radigan leaned over towards my father, inviting him toward an extraneously quieted conversation.

My father leaned in. "Well, as you know, I met with the Duke yesterday afternoon in the conference room of the hotel. He had with him the entire structure of the whole deal on paper. Right down from the initial property purchase to the revenue figures that would follow from such a project. I couldn't even begin to tell you how many papers there were, Radigan. Anyway, we went over the details rather thoroughly, much to my liking. I offered a discount on the property so that he could have more to spend on construction materials and workers; I consider it an initial investment of my own. Without much further ado, he made the purchase right on the spot." He emphasized the last few uttered words with a few taps on the table with his hoof. He smiled smugly. "Let's just say that I am now a few million bits richer a pony than I was that morning."

Radigan let out an amazed laugh. "He really gave you that much for it, eh? Wonderful if not simply marvelous!"

"Yes, construction is to begin in only a fortnight. I have my own plans for the sum I've come into. Since we're going to become a marketing center in the very near future, I've decided to finance the construction of a market right here in the Grange. I'll call it 'Hoofbit Capital Center'. That'll be sure to secure our profit in the matter."

Radigan simply sat there with an admiring smile on his face. "My word, Gabriel, you really are the smartest pony I've ever had the pleasure of meeting." While the two gentlecoats engaged in their future prospects, I was sitting beside Christina in an awfully awkward silence. She simply sat there and fiddled with her glass while I sat with my hooves in my lap.

"So, you're father's a composer? I didn't know that before.", I said, trying to initiate at least some form of verbal exchange.

"No, he is THE composer. The absolute best composer of professional music in all of Equestria. Why do you think we're so rich, Gabarlile?" Her voice resonated with that same charming snobbery that had always been there.

"I was only wondering how a composer of music could make so much money so as to be the second richest pony in the Grange."

"I don't know how, you silly boy. Don't ask me such invasive questions. They aren't your business in the first place." She tilted her head back in an effort to point her nose up in the air, a look of overly-refined dignity. The steward came out of the kitchen area with a cart full of covered platters. The smell alone was enough to make my stomach growl with hunger. He pushed it over to the table, with a female cook, one whom I presumed to be the famed Priscilla, following close behind. He set the platters down on the table, and took the covers off of each one.

"Breakfast is served", said the steward. The platters were full of several bread dishes, the most prolific of them being the platter containing the orange scones. The steward had also set out two pots of Earl Grain Tea**, and began to pour copious amounts of it into fine porcelain cups separate from our crystal glasses. The moderate and custom query for specific additives such as cream or sugar ensued, and he responded to each specific guest's preference.

"Splendid, splendid. That will be all, Jeeves. You may attend to your other duties now.", said Radigan.

"Very good, sir.", said Jeeves in a somewhat hollow, motiveless voice, then proceeded to exit the room. We began to serve ourselves with the myriad delights that rested before us. I, myself, must have consumed three orange scones in that one sitting. I do wish that Priscilla were alive at the present moment, so that she might conjure up those delicacies for me every morning. At the time, she just stood aside and waited for us all to finish our lovely breakfast. She obviously didn't have to stay in the service of Radigan; in fact, I've never quite known why she didn't start her own bakery. Perhaps it had something to do with her lesser-known fear of self-reliance. Nevertheless, she did as she would, and never did part from Radigan until death took a hold of her. After we had finished our meal, she stepped forward a bit.

"I do hope that this batch of scones suffices enough for all of your tastes." She had a very shy, withdrawn manner about her. A stiff breeze might have blown her over, she was so frail and fragile in appearance. Her eyes darted back and forth in an anxious fit, awaiting approval from her master and his guests. We all gave a reaffirming, 'why of course it did' sort of response, and that made her anxious fit dissolve into a smile and a lighter heart.

"Well, that certainly was an enjoyable breakfast, Radigan. I thank you for your invitation.", said my father.

"Anytime, my friend. I'm glad you all enjoyed yourselves." He stepped up out of his seat and assisted the women with their own seats. "And it was a delight meeting you, Merriam." Once again, he lightly shook her hoof.

"The pleasure's been all mine, sir." Helena stepped over to Gabriel and gave him a generous embrace.

"It's always so nice to have company every once in a while. It gets so dreadfully lonely in this huge house sometimes." Gabriel returned her embrace.

"As always, Mrs. Tarch. It's been a pleasure." The adults went on in this explosion of farewells while Christina and I simply stood aside, waiting for it to end. I figured I'd might as well try my luck again and attempt to bid her farewell.

"Goodbye, Christina. It was good to see you." I did a gentlecoltly bow to accompany my words.

She raised her eyebrow at me for a moment, but capitulated to formality and gave a slight curtsy. "Of course." As the three of us were leaving, I turned back for a moment to see something I did not expect: Christina was looking up out of one of the large windows in the dining hall, smiling ever so slightly. Perhaps it was just coltish fancy, but I supposed her to be smiling about me. Jeeves was at the front door waiting for us.

"Good day, sir.", he said in his same monotonous tone. He had our coats ready for us, and slipped them on as we each walked out the door. We exited the residence, and he shut the door behind us. We continued down the perfect brick path, and out the front gate, where a servant was waiting to shut it behind us.

"Well, that certainly was wonderful, wouldn't you say, Merriam?", said my father.

"Of course, sir. We must do it again sometime."

"Quite right." He looked up in the sky to see that the sun had already inched up a good distance over the horizon. "By Celestia, it's nearly 9:00! Merriam, please escort Gabarlile to Birchbrook while I go and check on Rudge Acres."

Merriam took me by the hoof with hers. "Yes sir. I expect you'll want me back at Rhinemane after I'm finished escorting Gabarlile?"

"As always, Merriam. Now, you must make haste, before the schoolmaster gives him a thrashing for being tardy." She obeyed without hesitation and began hurrying me down Rudge Avenue. Gabriel himself was beside us until we came to the square, where he made a left down Saddle Street. Merriam and I continued forward down the avenue until we went all the way past Appleline Street and Colt's Corner. At that moment, a humorous realization crossed my mind, and made me laugh a little on the inside: Christina was probably going to be late to the lesson.

* The Trojan Pantheon is a reference to the Greek Pantheon, a structure built in the classical period of antiquity that the Greeks used for governmental purposes.
** This, of course, being a reference to Earl Grey Tea.

Comments

[Nightspawn]

I think this may be the closest I get to a Downton Abbey MLP fic... Although given that this fic has a more 18th century vibe, and a lack of focus on the goings on downstairs, It's more, Poldark... And from what I've seen of Poldark... that means things will get worse...then finally get better...just to get even worse than before...