28) Month 2 - First Date
For about the fiftieth time in the last hour, Max glanced up at the clock. It hadn’t moved much in the last minute. Sighing, he looked back down at the papers in front of him and tried to decide what to do. He was due to meet up with Fragrant and go on their first official date in about five hours now. Part of him couldn’t believe how lucky he actually was, that such a sophisticated, clever and gorgeous mare was actually willing to go out with him. He kept thinking that something was going to go wrong, that he’d be woken up from the dream he found himself in. Another part thought it was strange that he was going on a date with somepony he’d known for over half a year and had shared both a bed and tent with on several occasions.
He glanced up at the clock again. Where was Baron Mellow Dramatic? He was supposed to have been here almost an hour ago now. The date had seemed so simple yesterday. He had just picked out a restaurant picked Mrs G had recommended and made a reservation. It was a small out of the way place, so there was no chance that the ponyrazzi would be there but he’d been told the food and ambiance were marvellous.
It was only at the last minute when he’d seen a group of other nobles on their way to a party that he’d realised just how inadequate his wardrobe would be for the date. A mare of Fragrant’s status would expect her date to be dressed in the latest of fashions. All he had in town were two suits, one red and one black, and a rain cloak. He’d managed to survive with just them so far but he hadn’t been to such an important event as this one, just his ennoblement and the Grand Galloping Gala. He’d no idea what you wore to a date in polite society. Back in Nulpar, a pony was lucky to have a single set of dress up clothes used for all important events, but here in Canterlot he was sure there were complex rules about what you wore to a date. He’d spent several hours wondering who he could ask for fashion advice, since he didn’t have all that many friends in the city, and even fewer he could ask without giving away his and Fragrant’s secret.
His first idea was Buttercup because he was sure she would know what to wear, but she was spending the whole weekend on a tour of the eastern reaches of the nation. Mrs G was likewise out, as he didn’t think he’d ever seen her wear clothes. Fragrant would, of course, be the perfect mare to ask, if he wasn’t actually dating her; he didn’t want her to realise just how socially inept he was. He had considered asking Duke Greengrass, but he didn’t think he entirely trusted the stallion, and he’d never heard of him going on a date anyway. There were certainly no end of courtiers known for their sartorial sensibilities but Max wasn’t that close to most of them. Viscount Blueblood was considered a well-dressed stallion but Max didn’t really travel in the same circles as him. Vicereine Puissance was known for the ostentatiousness of her dresses, but most of them probably cost more than the whole of Nulpar.
In the end, Mellow had seemed to be the only possible option. Max couldn’t say he entirely shared the flamboyant pony’s dress sense but he did seem to know enough about current fashions to act as an advisor. The baron was more than happy to offer his services to Max, seemingly intrigued by the idea of Max dating some mystery pony. They had arranged to meet up on in the afternoon before the date to get Max’s outfit sorted out, but he was now very late.
To try and pass the time Max was catching up on his own work, which was slowly but surely building up. He had a meeting with a Fisher Mining representative in a week to discuss their possible investment in Nulpar and he was trying to study as much as he could about the possible resources available in his province. Unfortunately there wasn’t all that much official information, as he was still waiting for the report from the Califurlong Institute of Geology which he had been promised. Apparently, professor Honey Bear wasn’t that quick a writer. Sighing again, Max tried to make head or tail of the map in front of him. If Mellow didn’t turn up in the next ten minutes, he was going to try and find him. The stallion was nice enough but he could be so flighty. He had probably gotten distracted by something.
As if summoned by the thought the door was suddenly thrown open and the very noble in question staggered in. “Oh Mounty!” he wailed. “It’s so terrible! It’s a disaster!” He trotted forwards swaying from side to side as if he would fall at any moment. “My life is over!” he proclaimed.
Max blinked. Mellow was normally a bit highly strung, but this was excessive even for him. “What is it, Mellow?” he asked worriedly. “What’s happened?”
“The most awful thing ever! Look!” he exclaimed, taking something from his saddlebag and throwing it onto the desk in front of Max. Frowning, Max looked down at a newspaper of some sort, The Equestrian Enquirer. Black and white photographs filled most of the front page with a few short, but eye catching headlines. Up tail shots of Lady Purity were promised inside, as was evidence that the court had been infiltrated by some sort of bug pony. An article stated that Duke Greengrass was apparently attempting to become an alicorn by drinking the blood of the element bearers, with an artist's impression of the intended ‘Greenicorn’ that not only had a horn and wings, but also claws, fangs and a snake tail, and for some reason it also seemed to be sparkling in the moonlight.
“I agree that this is all pretty lurid stuff Mellow. Not a word of any of it true, but is it really all that bad?”
“Oh, not that,” said Mellow flipping through the pages with more force than was necessary, resulting in a few torn pages. “This!”
Max peered at the page in front of him. ‘Mellow gets hot under the collar’ stated the headline. Below were several photographs of Mellow and a rather pretty earth pony mare sharing a meal at a restaurant; they were sitting rather close to each other and seemed to be having a good time, the final picture showed them leaving with Mellow’s wing draped over the mare’s back. Max looked sharply up at his companion.
“Those are taken totally out of context!” he spluttered, “What if Confidant sees them? What ever will she think of me! I can’t lose her, Max, if I did my life would be over!” He collapsed forwards onto the desk theatrically, sobbing onto a pile of paperwork.
Max sighed; he really wanted to help his friend, but he also really needed to get ready for his date. “I believe you Mellow, but what really happened? Who is that mare?” he pointed to the paper.
“She’s called Glory Glitter, she’s a jeweller, my family have used her skills for some time. I was ordering a...” he paused for a moment, “custom order from her; it was quite complicated so I agreed to discuss all the details over dinner. it was business, nothing more, I swear! I helped to straighten her cape as we left, there must have been a photographer at the restaurant. Whatever will Confidant think?!” He sniffed pitifully.
“I’m sure if you explain it all to her she’d trust you. Can’t you tell the paper that they made a mistake? Have them apologize?”
“They can print a retraction, the little good that does!” growled Mellow, flipping through the paper again to the back. There was almost a page full of tiny print explaining all the misunderstandings in earlier issues.
“That’s it!” exclaimed Max.
“They are acting within the law, if only just. the princess allows freedom of the press, maybe too much freedom. The entire court are considered to be persons of public interest! It’s so tragic!” he wailed again.
Max frowned, he’d never really understood Fragrant’s obsession with secrecy when it came to their relationship but maybe this explained some of it. Had he appeared in the papers? Well he supposed there was that Mr Equestria thing... He didn’t really read any of them regularly, one or two Canterlot titles made their way to Nulpar, normally a few weeks late, had anyone at home read such a story about him? Maybe Fragrant was right to want to keep things low key.
“Look Mellow, I’m sure if you just go to talk to Confidant and explain things she’d understand. Has she said anything about this?”
“No,” said Mellow, starting to calm down a little. “I came here as soon as I found out. I must see her now!” he exclaimed.
“Maybe not right now,” suggested Max, “Maybe you could wait just a-”
“No!” Mellow stood up straight, his wings spread, “I must see my lady now!” then he slumped again, “Would you... would you come with me, baron? As support?” His wide eyes looked over at Max pleadingly.
Wishing he wasn’t so much of a pushover Max nodded slowly. Hopefully this could all be sorted out quickly.
Fragrant shuddered slightly, feeling the nervous energy flow through her feathers. She had forgotten what it felt like to go on a date, the mixture of excitement and stomach churning terror forming a heady brew. Part of her wanted to fly from the highest point of the Canterhorn and cry out her happiness, while another wanted to dig its way into her cloud bed and never come out. She tried to remind herself that this wasn’t, despite its name, anything like their first date. They had spent plenty of time together before, and knew each other well. Still, there was something about actually putting a label on the event that made it special, that actually defined their relation as something romantic rather than just friendly or lustful. First dates were normally there to get to know each other, to decide if other dates were worth it. That decision had been made several months ago now but still there was a feeling of possibility about tonight.
She turned back to her preparations. Max wasn’t due to arrive for several hours yet but she had already started to get ready. She had visited a spa earlier to have her coat, hooves, mane, tail and wings beautified. Now it was time for her to choose her outfit for the night. it didn’t help that she didn’t know exactly where they were going, although the surprise helped her anticipation. It was apparently an out of the way restaurant where they were unlikely to be disturbed, but Max’s understanding of such things might not be entirely complete. She wanted something which wouldn’t clearly show the meeting was romantic, yet at the same time would say that she knew it was and that she appreciated Max’s efforts. Something that would make her look her best while not drawing that much attention to her if they were going to a lower class establishment. It had not been an easy choice. Normally, her maids picked out her daily outfits upon her general suggestions, but for this special event she wanted to make the decision by herself. Max deserved no less.
She’d been surprised as to how voluminous her wardrobe actually was. She was aware that she was the patron of many tailors and was, she primped slightly, considered something of an expert on fashion at court, but it was surprising just how many outfits she owned, many of them worn only once or not at all. She probably should have a clear out, or maybe donate some of her unused outfits to charity? That was a thought for another time.
It took her hours of searching before she made her final decision, a long red flowing number quite plain at first glance, but when looked at closely a complex embroidered pattern of symbols of earth and sky could be made out on the fabric. It was tight enough on her hips and flanks to be considered daring but not beyond the realms of taste for a friendly meeting. Infact she was a little worried that it was tighter than she’d thought it would be, had her new exercise regime changed her body shape so much, so quickly? The dress was a creation of Suri Polomare, the same young designer she had patronised at the gala and she had used the same measurements. Fragrant briefly scowled, she did not want to go through the embarrassment of having to be remeasured. Still, it did not even pinch around the wings, which was an improvement on the earth pony designer’s earlier creation. Wearing something from a relatively obscure designer would also help, as it would not attract the attention of the ever-attentive socialites. After all, she did not want to stand out tonight, except for one particular pony
Fanning a wing briefly over her face, Fragrant posed in front of the mirror and considered the naughty pegasus looking back. She could be a young socialite, preparing for a night on the town, dressing in a daring style to tease her potential lovers and drive them wild! Or maybe an older mare, secure in her looks and skills, able to draw the attention of a younger paramour and bathe in the jealous looks of the younger, less experienced, fillies as she enticed him away from them! She laughed at her own fantasies, neither quite matched reality. Still, she thought as she checked her right and left flanks, before trotting around in a circle with a little bit of extra sway to her hips, she did look good. She gave a short nod of acceptance. Yes, this outfit would be perfect.
Nervously, she turned to the rest of her ensemble. She should have put them on before the main dress, but she still hadn’t decided whether to wear them or not. She rarely wore more intimate apparel, and it wasn’t really even all that suitable for a first date, but its presence would certainly increase the excited tingling in her belly. She’d had to be rather discrete in her purchase, it certainly wasn’t something she wanted to be public knowledge. Luckily, her niece Fluttering had mentioned a friendship with a local designer who amongst other things produced items of lingerie. Fragrant had placed her order by via mail to keep the designer (and Fluttering) from knowing just who had made such a daring order. It was just as well. Her only other contact would likely have been her sister in law, and she really didn’t want Thunderous to know about this.
She had to admit that the seamstress did excellent work as she ran a hoof down one of the four pure black silk socks. They were beautiful. A subtle pattern was worked into the fabric making them shimmer in the light, hidden bands of elastic would keep them in place despite their lack of friction and regardless of how active their wearer was. However, it was the final item of the set which both worried, and excited, her the most: a silk saddle. She imagined the feel of the thing on her back acting as an almost intangible barrier between herself and her lover, feeling his belly sliding against her back as... That was probably enough of that, she reminded herself. First date, after all. Talking. Eating. Getting to know each other better and >not< in that fashion.
She stole a glance at herself in the mirror and considered the possibility. Nopony had to know she was wearing it under her dress unless she gave... With a sigh she returned the saddle to the anonymous packaging it had come in. She likewise wrapped the front pair of socks because they would be too noticeable as she ate, but the hind pair she would most certainly wear. They would be covered by her dress but she’d still feel them on her coat.
Her decision made, she idly flicked through the small catalogue which had come with her purchase. The designer certainly seemed talented, if a little inexperienced. Maybe she should purchase from her again in a more open way. She made her way to the back of the book where the rest of the lingerie section was tastefully kept, she looked through the options and the word ‘edible’ made her raise an eyebrow. First date, she had to remind herself again, nothing was likely to be eaten, apart from the meal of course. She hurriedly stored the package in her bedside drawer to stop her getting any more distracted and redressed in her chosen outfit, now with the slickness of the socks making her legs tingle up to the thigh.
She had already made her decision when it came to jewellery. Her mother's necklace and small diamond stud earrings should be sufficient. She thought that less was more when it came to that sort of thing and she certainly didn’t want to end up looking like Vicereine Puissance. That only left her makeup to apply. She glanced up at the clock. She would have to hurry. There was only an hour or so remaining.
She did hope Max wouldn’t be early.
“I’m really, really sorry I’m late!” exclaimed Max as he was led into Fragrant’s presence. He opened his mouth to try and explain what had happened but he was suddenly struck dumb by the vision in front of him. There stood Fragrant, seeming to glow in the gas light, her scarlet dress hung perfectly on her form, splaying out behind her in a crimson cascade. Her mane had been formed into bangs to frame her face flowing past her noble features. The blue of her eyes was highlighted by touches of dark makeup while her lips were painted the same shade as the dress. The only flaw on her perfect form was the unhappy scowl currently gracing her face.
“I was expecting you over an hour ago, baron,” she grumbled. “I... I was worried something had happened to you, or that you were going to stand me up!” She shuffled a little awkwardly.
“Oh, um, sorry, wow! Pretty!” mumbled Max, trying to gather his scattered wits. “You look fantastic!”
His reaction seemed to do something to salve Fragrant’s feelings, a blush spreading across her face as she looked bashfully aside. “Why thank you. I did try my best.” After a moment she looked back and raised an eyebrow as she drew her gaze over Max’s form. He was also formally dressed in a pastel blue coat with tails which spread down his back while leaving his flanks uncovered. Under that was a plain white shirt with a red cravat tied around his neck. His mane had originally been slicked back but now looked rather windswept after his gallop to Fragrant’s estate. “You look good as well,” she said, her eyes moving back and forth over his form. “I did not know you were so in touch with current fashions.”
“Oh, thanks. That’s actually why I was late, sorry again. I asked Mellow to help me choose an outfit and he got delayed by a bit of a problem with a story in one of the papers. I had to help him talk to his marefriend about some photos that she might get angry about,” he quickly explained. Confidant had actually been rather understanding about the whole thing. She had seemed a little put out by her coltfriend going to dinner with another mare but had accepted his explanation despite Mellow being a bit vague on exactly what he had been ordering from the jeweller. However, the explanation had taken a while and it was even more time before Max could get a word in edgeways to remind Mellow of their agreement. Once he did, both the baron and Confidant had insisted on helping and they’d taken him on a whirlwind tour of the city's fashion district. Max thought that he’d probably tried on more outfits in that single afternoon than in his whole life. Eventually, they’d agreed on his current outfit, however by then it had almost been time to meet up with Fragrant and he’d had to gallop home to quickly wash before rushing to Fragrant’s home. He was a little worried about how much it had cost. He was supposed to be minimising his spending, but Fragrant was worth it.
“I suppose helping your friend is a good enough excuse,” said Fragrant with a slight edge to her words suggesting that it probably wasn’t. “I do hope we will still be able to make our reservations for dinner.”
Max tried to hide the way he was biting his lip. After all, he hoped they would be able to make it to the restaurant in time for their reservations as well. He had never eaten there before, but Mrs G had recommended it. In fact, she lived above it.
Putting that aside and hoping that they had not already missed their reservation, he added, "I don't think it will be a problem. Once again I’m really sorry I’m late.”
Fragrant sighed. “I guess it couldn’t be helped.” She stepped forwards and quickly nuzzled Max, filling his nose with the flowery scent of her mane. “Now we should be off... You know, you still haven't told me where we’re going.”
“You probably haven't been there before, so I’d like to keep the surprise for a bit longer. But before we go…” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small box, opening it to reveal a pair of purple flowers. “If we’re going to call this our first date I thought we should go with the Nulpar tradition.” Fragrant cocked her head to one side. “In Nulpar we wear asters to first dates,” he explained as he gently affixed one flower to his date’s mane and then the second to his buttonhole.
“Didn’t Buttercup say this was a tradition for friends at the gala?” she asked.
“She was downplaying it a bit, I gave her one when we... well never mind.”
Fragrant looked like she wanted to ask a question but she bit her tongue. “Thank you. Now, we should be off. It might be better than we leave from one of the servant’s entrances, just in case there are any press around.”
Fragrant actually found it rather thrilling to have to sneak out of her own house. Bundling herself up under a traveling cloak and exiting via the back door certainly added a certain spice to the night. The odds of any press waiting in secret outside the door were low but couldn’t be discounted. Once they were away from the property she could lower her hood and get a look around the city. Despite spending much of the year in Canterlot, she began to realise how little of the city she actually saw, especially from ground level. Most of her time was spent around the castle and the upper few levels of the city where most of the courtiers lived. In fact, Max’s house on the fourth tier was probably the lowest she’d ever been. It was a little embarrassing how little she interacted with the ponies of the city when she thought of it. This trip was taking her even lower than that, out of the middle class areas of the fourth and fifth tier and even the industrial areas of the sixth. By the time Max had led her down to the seventh level of the city she was starting to feel rather nervous. Many of the inhabitants were looking at the pair with curiosity and maybe even a little malice. She’d dressed down to try not to attract attention, but she stood out like a sore hoof in this neighbourhood.
“Is the restaurant much further?” she asked nervously looking around.
“A few blocks along,” said Max, apparently unworried by the surroundings.
“What sort of food do they serve?”
“Well, I haven't actually eaten there before, but I’ve visited it a few times. Mrs G lives in a flat above it, and she suggested it as a good place for a romantic meal,” he frowned, “I’m not sure if she was speaking from personal experience.”
Fragrant looked around again, because the shabby streets certainly didn’t seem all that romantic to her. She was actually a little shocked by the condition of the roads. Many were potholed and looked none too clean. Although she felt many eyes following her, she noticed a certain lack of ponies in the area. Most of the inhabitants seemed to be goats or cows, she even saw a few scraggly looking griffin and a rather battered looking zebra. She had heard of such neighbourhoods; the non-pony inhabitants of the city did tend to band together, and she’d often heard such areas referred to colloquially, and rather cruelly, as zoos.
“Ah, here we are!” exclaimed Max as he came to a stop outside of a solid looking door. Fragrant glanced up at the sign hanging above her, showing a barrel and some writing in a language she didn’t understand. She was about to ask what it said when Max swung the door open. A wave of heat flowed out of the building, making Fragrant blink. The inside of the building was packed with patrons of all species. A long bar took up most of the far side of the large room while a blazing fire belched smoke into the room from the right. Next to it sat a goat playing a fiddle, although she couldn’t make out the tune over the other noise. Much of the remaining space was filled with tables and benches where the various inhabitants sat eating, drinking and shouting at each other. “Seems like a friendly place!” said Max as he stepped inside, with Fragrant following rather more cautiously.
Max took a deep breath of the warm air filling the pub. This was more like it. He’d been to a few bars and restaurants around Canterlot but none of them had the personality of a real pub, like back at home. Here he could see ponies and other species really enjoying themselves. He glanced over at Fragrant, who seemed rather less enthusiastic about the place. A cold feeling started to well up in his stomach. He’d hoped she might enjoy a change from her usual kind of place, and there was no way that a journalist would be expecting to find nobility here, but maybe it was too much of a shock for her? He was about to ask her if she was alright when he heard his name called across the room.
“Max!” brayed a huge black coated goat in highly accented Equestrian, “Welcome to the Kilderkin. Good ta see you and ya luvely date!” The figure shoved his way through the crowd with his shoulders much in the same way a farmer would move through a field of ripe corn.
“Sorry we’re late, Fergus,” cried Max over the background noise, “Do you think you can still fit us in?” He’d met Mrs G’s landlord a few times and still found him rather overwhelming, although very friendly.
“For a friend o’ Mrs Grobhar? I’ll make room,” he bellowed, giving Max a slap on the back which knocked him aside into another patron who scowled back.
“Is Mrs G about?” asked Max, he couldn’t see her around the bar. From what he’d heard she didn’t spend much time down here.
“Neigh, I think she’s still at work,” said Fergus. Max frowned for a moment, he was surprised she was working this late, there wasn’t that much to do at the moment, was there? Then he put that thought aside. He wanted to focus on Fragrant tonight.
The goat spun and looked around the room for a moment before moving towards a table in the corner which was surrounded by a group of young billies. “Faigh caillte agat go leor! Tá mé a bunch na n-aíonna tábhachtacha atá ag iarraidh an tábla! Bhrú amach!” he cried. The innkeeper spoke a different goat dialect to the ones Max was used to, but he got enough of a gist of the conversation to wince. Grumbling, the billies got up and wandered over to other seats. Fergus bellowed towards the bar and two young nannies rushed over, giving the table a quick and rather hopeful wipe over with a rag before setting down placemats and cutlery as well as a few flowers as appetizers. “Sit! Sit!” he called.
Looking at each other, Max and Fragrant made their way to the table. Fergus took Fragrant’s cloak before throwing it into a corner and hurrying away. Max pulled out his date’s chair for her and she nodded before sitting, he took his own place opposite her. There was silence between them for a moment.
“So...” began Max, “What do you think of the place?”
Fragrant’s eyes darted around the room for a moment, much as if she were looking for a fire exit. “It certainly is... unique,” she finally said, “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anywhere quite like this before.”
“I thought you might like a change, somewhere you could let your mane down.”
“Well, I’m certain no one is going to recognise me. There’s not much chance of bumping into another member of the court here,” she admitted. She leaned forwards conspiratorially. “I suppose it is rather exciting now that I’m getting used to it.”
Max smiled back. “I knew you’d like it, it’s just like home. Now, are you feeling hungry?” he asked, picking up a menu.
“Yes,” she said, “I was expecting to have eaten a while ago.”
“Yes, of course,” said Max with a nervous laugh, thinking maybe he should have just left Mellow to deal with his own problems.
“So what sort of food do they serve here?” she asked.
“Goat cuisine. it’s not exactly like Nulpar since Fergus is from another part of Equestria, but it’s close.”
“What sort of things do goats cook with?” she asked cautiously, “I don’t remember all that much of my time in that goat camp back in Nulpar.”
Max grinned. “You were a bit out of it. The goats I know tend towards potatoes, oats and nettles.”
Fragrant gave out a sigh. “That’s good. I was expecting things a bit more, exotic,” she admitted.
“Well just because goats can eat paper, cloth, bark and the like doesn’t mean they have to, given the chance they eat much the same as ponies,” he explained. “Now let’s see what’s on offer.” He looked down at the menu in front of him and his heart sunk a little, the writing was of course in the same dialect as Fergus spoke. Although helpfully there were pictures of most of the dishes, it could be a little hard to tell exactly what they were made of.
“Is there something you recommend?” asked Fragrant. Presumably she couldn’t understand the menu any more than he could.
“Maybe the soup first?” he suggested, there wasn’t much that could go wrong with that. Glancing over the menu, there were a few items he could recognise. “Maybe Boxty for the main course?”
“Boxty?” asked Fragrant, sounding intrigued.
“It's a sort of pancake made of potatoes, often wrapped around something else.”
“Sounds good,” said Fragrant.
Max raised a hoof and almost straight away one of the waitresses appeared next to them to take their order. “We’ll both have the soup,” said Max, pointing at the menu. The waitress cocked her head for a moment before nodding. “And the Boxty.”
“Of course,” she said before breaking into a song, “Boxty on the griddle, Boxty on the pan, If you don't eat boxty, You'll never get a mare,” she concluded with a giggle winking at Fragrant who seemed amused. “And to drink?”
“An ale please,” said Max. He’d usually go for mead but he wanted to try something different tonight.
“Do you have any wine?” asked Fragrant, trying to peer towards the bar.
“I’m sure we can find something,” said the waitress, looking unsure, “Are you sure you don’t want something stronger? We have some wonderful Kumis.”
Fragrant shuddered a little, probably remembering her behaviour when she had last tried the milky drink. “No, thank you.”
The waitress shrugged. “I’ll be right back,” she said, “And don’t worry about paying. We owe you after you got that job for my brother.”
“Um, no, really I’ll pay,” said Max. He’d had a lecture from Mrs G about keeping receipts for things. The line between accepting bribes and accepting gifts was a fairly narrow one, and he wanted to make certain he stayed on the correct side. “It’s only proper.”
“If you want, but I’m sure a handsome stallion like yourself doesn’t need to impress his date with his money,” she said with a smile before trotting away. Max turned back to Fragrant, his cheeks glowing a little. She hid a giggle behind her hoof, then frowned.
“What did she mean about getting her brother a job?”
“That must be Malachi. He applied for a job at the post office, there was some mix up about the regulations. I just went to talk to them over in Clover Square and got things sorted out. I hear he’s doing well,” he said breezily.
Fragrant blinked her face blank. “You went personally and asked that they give him the job,” she asked.
“No, just that they give him an interview.”
Fragrant closed her eyes and rubbed her head with a hoof, for a moment she looked like she was going to say something then she sighed. “We are going to have a talk about that, Max, but not now.” She sighed again. “Now we are just going to have a nice meal.”
“Good,” said Max, not sure what all the fuss was about. “So...” he began after a moment, “You got your mark growing flowers on clouds, I’ve always wondered how that works.”
Fragrant gave a smile. “It’s actually easier than you’d think,” she began, “You see, there are...”
“And if I can get those to cross-pollinate then the possibilities are...” continued Fragrant, waving a hoof around to illustrate her point. She glanced over at Max; he was smiling and nodding occasionally, but his eyes looked a little glazed and it probably wasn’t due to the few mouthfuls of ale he’d had. Maybe her talk was going a little over his head, but botany was really interesting! “Anyway,” she said, taking a sip of her rather vinegary wine and trying not to grimace, “How are things going in Nulpar?”
Max shook his head for a moment. “Oh, well they’re ok, not all that much to report really. The mayoral election in Sadlzburg takes place in about a month but nopony—” He was interrupted as the waitress brought them their first course.
“Cullen Skink,” she said as she dropped off the two bowls of creamy soup. Fragrant raised an eyebrow, she didn’t think she’d heard of that before. She took a deep breath, it smelled rather strongly of fish but wasn’t unpleasant. She leant forwards and lapped at the mixture, it was good, a very creamy sauce with lumps of potato. Fragrant looked up at Max who was also cautiously trying the soup.
“I don’t think I’ve had this before,” he said taking a mouthful, “It’s not all that bad, I’m not sure what’s in it, it almost smells like fish.”
“Smoked haddock I think,” said Fragrant trying another sip, “I had something like it up in the griffin kingdoms.”
Max’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped, dribbling his last mouthful into the bowl. “Fish!” he gasped, his coat taking on a greenish hue.
“Are you alright?” asked Fragrant sitting up, she’d forgotten that Max didn’t do well with fish.
“I think,” mumbled Max, “I just don’t like,” he held a hoof up to his mouth. He swallowed painfully and sat there for a moment breathing heavily, then he began to retch. “No!” he finally announced, leaping up from the table and rushing for the door. In his hurry to stand he bashed into the table, almost upending it. Fragrant squealed as she was splattered by the remains of her bowl of soup, much of which managed to end up on her mane and the half empty glass of wine which splashed over her dress. She staggered back trying to shield herself from any further food as well as avoiding crashing into any of the nearby patrons. A loud laugh went up from the crowd, apparently much amused by her and Max’s discomfort. She tried to hold onto her dignity as she scraped off as much of the goo as she could. The waitress seemed to materialise next to her and began to wipe off as much of the dripping substance as possible, but it was clear that the dress was going to be a write off.
“I’m sorry!” exclaimed the servant.
“It’s... it’s alright,” said Fragrant, shielding herself from the rather over enthusiastic attempt to clear her off. “Accidents happen.” The waitress spat onto the cloth and moved in to try again. “No thank you, that is quite enough. maybe you could tell me where the mare’s room is?” The servant looked confused for a moment before pointing towards the door out into the street. Fragrant sighed, of course this place would not have proper facilities. “Maybe you could provide a bowl of water?” she suggested.
It only took a few moments for the goat to produce a bucket of water, and steeling herself against the gaze of the other customers Fragrant made her best attempt to wash as much of the soup out of her hair and from her dress. She was sure she still smelled of fish, but at least she felt a little cleaner once she was done.
A few moments later Max returned to the table with Fergus, looking wretched. “There, there Max,” said the large goat, slapping the baron on the back, “Better out that in!”
Max winced. “Thanks, I’m feeling better now,” he whispered rather hoarsely. He glanced down at the still half full bowl in front of him and held a hoof to his mouth again. The bargoat smartly grabbed the bowl and spirited it away.
“Duine ar bith ag iarraidh seo? praghas leath!” he announced as he left.
“I’m really, really sorry about this,” mumbled Max, “I just really don’t like fish much...”
Fragrant sighed, this really wasn’t how she’d expected this night to turn out. She squirmed a little in her sticky clothes, really she should take it off but she wasn’t going to show what she was wearing under it in a crowded bar! “I know, you didn’t know what was in the soup,” she said sympathetically. She was going to suggest that they just called it a night and maybe finish their meal at her home when the waitress appeared again with the rest of their order. She placed the plates down in front of the two of them before stepping away. Fragrant examined her meal, it consisted of a pancake like substance rolled up with what looked like layers of cabbage. A mix of other vegetables was placed around the plate. She glanced up at Max, he had already started on his meal with rather more enthusiasm than his previous course, his sickness apparently forgotten. “It’s good!” he announced with his mouth full. Trying to hide her smile, Fragrance took a bite of the meal and chewed thoughtfully; it had a light fluffy texture and the cabbage added an interesting taste. She tried another bite, the vegetables were a little overcooked but not tasteless. Maybe this meal wasn’t going to be a total disaster after all.
Max glanced up from his meal at Fragrant again. Despite her clothes and hair still being stained by their meal, she was smiling and seemed to be enjoying her current dish. He grinned back and let out an internal sigh of relief, things seemed to be turning out better than he’d feared. They’d gotten back into chatting during the meal, he’d talked more about his youth in Nulpar and she about her plans to start a garden around her estate. Finally, he finished off the last bite of his meal and turned to his date.
“Do you think you have room for dessert?” asked Max.
“I probably shouldn’t,” said Fragrant, “I’ve gone beyond my usual diet as it is.”
“Well it certainly doesn’t show, you look as slim as ever,” he said, causing her to blush.
“Well maybe this once,” she said, “What do you recommend?”
“I saw someone with Cranchan when we came in, you’ll love it!”
“I don’t think I’ve heard of that.”
“You get bowls of cream, cottage cheese, raspberries, honey, oatmeal, brambles, blueberries and whisky and you mix what you want together,” he said, his eyes glittering.
“It sounds rather fattening,” she argued but licked her lips anyway.
“Well you can choose what you want, you can just have the fruit with just a touch of cream if you want. Go on, live a little!”
“Very well,” she said with a grin, “I’ll leave my figure in your hooves.”
Trying to push that imagery aside Max called over the waitress and ordered the dessert as well as more drinks. It wasn’t long arriving, and it looked just as mouth-watering as Max remembered it to be. Fragrant looked pleased as well, her eyes following the small mountain of cream in the bowl.
“That looks fantastic, and fattening,” she noted.
Max quickly took an oatmeal biscuit and loaded a lump of cream onto it before topping it with a raspberry. “Try it,” he said, holding out the treat, “it’s got fruit on it, that makes it healthy!”
Fragrant chuckled, and after a moment's hesitation stretched forwards over the table to take the biscuit in her mouth.
“Neigh mind me,” said Fergus appearing as if by magic at Max’s side, the surprise causing Fragrant to drop the dessert. “Ah thought a little music would help with tha ambiance.” He winked at Max with a wide grin. Under one leg the goat held a strange cloth bag with various pipes protruding from it, one of which he took in his mouth and began to blow. A wailing, groaning, crying sound emerged from the instrument right next to Max’s ears, causing them to flatten against his head as he cringed away. Fragrant looked down right terrified by the strange sound, her eyes wide. Around them, the groans of the other patrons could just about be heard above the noise. “Knock it off you lot!” roared Fergus, letting the pipe drop from his lips, “Ye just don’t understand romance! Now where was I?”
He picked up the pipe again and returned it to his mouth, the ‘music’ restarted and, grimacing, Max turned back to Fragrance, who looked like she was deciding whether to dive through a nearby window or not. He shrugged, trying to convey how sorry he was for the interruption, all of the interruptions so far, and a weak smile crossed her face as she reached forwards for the dessert in front of her. At least there didn’t seem to be anything else which could go wrong.
“Look I’m really sorry about how this all turned out!” said Max. He’d finally gotten Fergus to accept his money for the meal and it looked like Fragrant was ready to leave.
“It is alright Max, tonight has been... somewhat unique,” replied Fragrant weakly, “although I’m glad that I’ll get to choose where our next date will be.”
“There will be a next date?!” he asked excitedly.
“Of course there will be.” she ran a hoof through her mane, only to find it partially matted with dried soup, making her shudder. “It will hopefully go rather better than this one.”
Max nodded and glanced around the pub, at least the other patrons seemed to be having fun. The fiddler in the corner was still playing, luckily Fergus had locked his bagpipes away eventually, and a few couples had gotten up to dance in a small space by the fire. That gave him an idea. “Would you like to dance, my lady?” he asked, holding out a leg.
Fragrant looked at him strangely. “Dance? Are you sure?”
“Well, I know I’m not all that good, but you said you liked to dance at the gala. After all, what’s the worst that can happen?”
Fragrant looked down at her ruined dress and shrugged. “Given the way tonight has been going maybe one of us will catch fire,” she suggested, then smiled. “But yes Max, I would love to dance.” She gathered up the hem of her dress, giving Max a flash of the socks beneath as the two of them made their way to the dancefloor. Max didn’t recognise the exact tune which was being played but knew a jig when he heard it. Taking one of Fragrant’s forelegs he began to bob around on the floor. His partner was a little hesitant to start with but quickly picked up the basics. The two of them swooped around on the floor for a few tunes, the earlier disasters forgotten as they enjoyed the time spent in each other's arms moving to the music.
At least there’s one good memory I can hold from tonight, thought Max gazing into Fragrant’s smiling face as he twirled her around in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a unicorn stallion staggering unsteadily across the dance floor. Max’s eyes widened as he noticed his path was going to intersect with the other pony. He tried to turn himself aside at the last minute but couldn’t prevent himself crashing into the tray of drinks the unicorn held in his stuttering aura, which were knocked to the floor with a crash. The unicorn looked blearily at the spilled drinks and then back to Max. “You spilled my drink!” he exclaimed after a moment's thought.
“It was an accident!” said Max holding up a calming hoof, “I’ll buy you another round!”. Ignoring his protests the unicorn swung a hoof at Max, who stepped back to avoid the wild blow. It swept past his face and caught a nearby billy in the barrel sending him staggering towards the fiddler. Silence reigned for a second as the music stopped, then, with an angry bleat, the nanny who had been dancing with the billy charged forwards head lowered and crashed into the drunk stallion, sending him flying back into a table scattering ponies and goats in all directions. After a moment they began to stagger back to their hooves looking less than pleased.
Max looked around wildly; fighting seemed to be spreading around the bar like wildfire, he had to find Fragrant quickly! Luckily she was still standing only a short distance away. “Max!” she exclaimed through gritted teeth, seemingly more annoyed than afraid. “How did this...”
“It really wasn’t my fault!” he protested. “Look, we should get out of here before things get worse.” He glanced around for the door, noting that most of the less belligerent members of the bar were already streaming out into the night. Putting a hoof across Fragrant’s back, he tried to keep the both of them low and steered her towards the exit. They made it about halfway there before trouble struck. A donkey crashed to the ground in front of them blocking their route, as they tried to make their way around him they almost bumped into his attacker, a hulking bull, the long shaggy hair covering his eyes seemingly rendering him almost blind. He snorted and swung a hoof towards Max, catching him a glancing blow on the back of his head and knocking the stallion to the floor. Blinking, Max tried to get his hooves back under him while the bull towered over him and raised his hoof again.
“Don’t you dare lay a hoof on him!” came a shout from behind Max and to his, and likely the bull’s, surprise Fragrant dove forwards at the attacker, hooves and wings swinging wildly. One of the duchess’s forehooves collided with the bull's muzzle causing it to stagger back a step, more in surprise than injury.
Moving as quickly as he could, Max found his hoofing and grabbed Fragrant who resisted for a moment, seemingly wanting to continue her assault on her larger opponent. He shoved her and then himself towards the door. Something seemed to drag Fragrant back for a moment but there was a ripping sound and the two of them shot forwards through the exit like a cork from a bottle. As he left, Max thought he heard Fergus’s voice bellowing at them to come again soon.
Running on adrenaline, the couple galloped through the streets for at least a block before finally coming to a halt panting, their flanks covered in sweat. Fragrant dropped to the ground. “That was...” she panted, “I’ve never...”
“Are you alright?” asked Max, urgently examining his date for injury. Her dress seemed to have taken the worst of it with much of the lower half torn away revealing her sock covered hind legs. A part of Max considered examining them in a little more detail but most of his mind continued to look for any sign of injury.
“My hoof hurts a little,” she admitted, holding out the limb she had hit the bull with. Max turned it over but could see no serious damage done. He gently kissed it. “How about you?” she asked, “You got punched!”
“It’s nothing much,” said Max, feeling the bump on the back of his head and wincing, “I’ve had worst in the past.”
“Why is it, Baron Max,” said Fragrant, leaning against Max to help her stand, “That when I spend time with you my wardrobe takes damage?” She looked down at her stained and torn dress with a sigh.
“I’m sorry, I really, really am, I didn’t mean for anything like this to happen. I just wanted this to be a good date, for you to have fun!”
“Fun! You were late! You took me to a smoky, smelly dive! You threw soup over me! I was almost deafened by something almost entirely unlike music! Then I was involved in a bar room brawl!” She glared at him for a moment and his ears drooped, then she began to giggle, “It was awful!”
A smile started to spread across his face. “Terrible!” he agreed.
“Probably the most unlikely series of events I’ve ever seen!” she gasped between laughs.
“Maybe the worst date ever!” he said, starting to laugh as well.
“Totally unbecoming of a noble!” she added, tears starting to flow down her face as she staggered against Max and the two of them collapsed into a hysterical pile of pony flesh.
“Keep it down out there!” cried a voice from a nearby window, “Some of us are trying to sleep! Bloody Lunatics!” They managed to remain quiet for a moment before breaking into fresh paroxysms.
“Oh, Max,” said Fragrant when the two of them had finally exhausted themselves, “You really do know how to show a filly a good time don’t you.”
“I told you I was...” he was cut off as she put her mouth over his own.
“If things had gone to plan it just wouldn’t have been you,” she said once they had broken apart again. “This is definitely the most Mounty Max date I have ever been on. It’ll be something we can tell our grandfoals!” She realised what she had just said and her cheeks burned brightly.
“So you want to do this again?” he asked.
“Maybe not exactly this,” she admitted, “But I think at least one more date is warranted.” She leant forwards again but Max turned his head aside, heaving slightly.
“Sorry. It’s the smell of the fish,” he admitted.
“Of course!” she sniffed at herself and coughed; it certainly was pungent, it made her nose run. “I guess we should make our way home, do you even know where we are?” She glanced around the seemingly deserted streets.
“I think so,” he said helping her to her hooves, she winced a little as she put weight on her bruised limb.
“Good, hopefully I can get back to my estate without any press noticing, I’m sure they could fill a whole issue with the story of how Duchess Posey came home with a torn dress, gunk in her mane and smelling of fish.” She sighed.
“Well that sounds like an interesting night,” joked Max, earning himself a gentle punch to his shoulder from Fragrant. “Look on the bright side,” he said as the two of them started to trot away, “it’s not like our next date can be any worse.”
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Mind, I have no idea what kind of story they could possibly extrapolate from that, except what actually happened, which isn't really newsworthy.
Maybe they'll think she's trying to start a new perfume line or something.
Why isn't there an OC tag?
7284887
That is indeed a very good question,i think I mixed up of and other. It has now been corrected.
Ah, the classic noble "compliment." As in... "I've never heard that selection played quite that way before." Or "I never realized that flavors like this even existed."
Insert ominous thunderclap and lightning strike here.
And of course Max would go help a melodramatic friend instead of being on time for the date.
But hey, once he did get there it sounds like Fragrant is looking nice.
Good reaction, at least.
Ahh, romance.
Hey, if you can't make it a good date, make it a pleasantly memorable one. Just, probably, less fish soup would be better next time.
Oh lord, Max. There are no words.
And for the next date, Corona attack!
Yes!
Submit to the romantic power of bagpipes! BWA HA HA HA!
Best part of the chapter, easily.
Even a broken clock is right twice daily.
It is not necessary to mention that the photographs are greyscale. Because of the official crossover between the Mane'Verse and the Luna'Verse which is set during the time Monty Max and Fragrance where in Nopar, by Climbing the Mountain # 3, I expect that colorphotography. This brings up an interesting point:
¿How many cone-types do equines have? Our equines are dichromates. I have read stories with equines as mono/di/tri/quadro/penta-chromates. Maybe, we should bring this up in the fora.
Now I've see this I want it recoloured as Fragrant getting ready for her date.
Now we need to judge all dates/social occasions on the 'Mounty Max' scale.
Max, you magnificent idiot!