To Make Your Acquaintance
“Look,” Mother said. “We’re almost there.”
Silver Spoon yawned, struggling to keep her balance while she sat up. She fished about the seat for her glasses, squinting at the vague, splotchy shapes and shadows around her. Her hoof bumped against something small and hard. The carriage hit a gopher hole, and her head banged against the upholstery as she unfolded the blue frames.
“What, already?” Silver Spoon didn’t even remember closing her eyes. The last thing she remembered was the twinkling lights in the distance when they passed Baltimare—about nine hours ago, judging from the sun. The sky was silver, but not the beautiful, glittering silver of teapots or money or her mane. The sky hung dull and flat, as if somepony had forgotten to polish it. Ugly, though appropriate, all things considered. Blue skies would add insult to injury.
A part of her wondered if she could turn over and go back to sleep. Maybe if she slept long enough the world would stop being terrible and correct itself to the way it was supposed to be. But Silver Spoon didn’t think she’d be that lucky. Besides, Mother and Father would never allow it. A young lady couldn’t sleep the day away when there were so many things to be done, no matter how much she’d rather not do them.
The carriage clipped another gopher hole, and Silver Spoon's teeth rattled in her skull. Ugh. Not that anypony could sleep through such a rotten ride. Their old carriage never bumped like this. She rubbed her stiff neck and sore legs. Their old carriage was bigger and comfier too.
Silver Spoon stretched her neck out the window when they crested a hill. High above and far away, the proud purple mountains of Canterlot, city of nobility and class, soaked in the sun of a new day. In Canterlot’s shadow stretched green acres of land dotted with thatched roofs, full of nobodies and absolutely nothing to do.
None of those dinky buildings appeared taller than an oak tree. Silver Spoon saw no penthouses, no roller coasters, no century-old brownstones or museums, no grand opera houses, no zoos or waterparks or anything. It didn’t even have a train station. Probably because nopony wanted to go there. She got bored just looking at it. Silver Spoon groaned and pulled her head back inside.
Silver's mother, Pitch Perfect, watched the window as well. Sitting on the opposite side of the carriage, the morning shadows made her lilac coat seem grey as Father’s. She smiled gently at the sight, though Silver Spoon didn’t think she meant it.
“There it is,” she said. The breeze ruffled through her dress. The scent of rain lingered in the air. “Ponyville.”
Silver Laurel, Silver Spoon’s father, glanced up from his book. “Hm. Cute little place.” He didn’t smile at all, but his ears tilted forward, the way they always did while deep in thought. Not that Ponyville had anything worth thinking about. “It looks quiet.”
Silver Spoon wrinkled her nose. “I hate it.”
Father closed his book and adjusted his monocle. “Now, Brightness, how can you hate a place you’ve never even seen?”
“I can see it just fine from here and I hate it.” Silver Spoon turned away from the window and scooted over so she wouldn’t have to look at it anymore. “It’s tiny and boring and nopony interesting lives there.”
“And how do you know that?”
She slumped in her seat. “Because all of those ponies are back home.” Her real home, where everything hustled and bustled. Where towers scraped the sky, grand and proud. Where a day never went by without something to do, or places to go, or ponies to meet. None of her friends would be caught dead in this podunk town.
Silver Spoon’s ears drooped. School would have started a few minutes ago. Everypony knew about the move (there’d been a little get-together in the courtyard for goodbyes and well-wishes) but she’d only told Wondermint and Fair Weather where she was going. Brights Brightly, too polite to say anything, had probably figured it out.
But at Wisteria Academy, secrets never stayed secret for long. Even the scholarship students knew by now. Palanquin would make sure of that. Toplofty probably laughed herself sick. The two of them would shred and shatter Silver Spoon's reputation beyond recognition and Silver had no chance of ever, ever fixing it.
Silver slouched lower and hid her face in her hooves. Three years building and preserving and perfecting her good name. Three years meeting all the right fillies, attending all the right parties, and saying all the right things at the right time to the right ponies. Three years of work, a third of her life, gone down the drain.
She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned. Her stomach hurt.
Mother frowned. “Posture, Silver Spoon.”
Her back straightened in an instant. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And stop making that face. Ladies do not sulk.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Silver gulped down the lump in her throat. Mother was right; she’d been careless. Right now, it was just her and the family in their carriage, but soon they’d be in public. Better to push Palanquin and her big fat mouth out of her mind; try to think of something else.
She sighed again. How long before teatime? It would give her hooves and her head something constructive to do. A nice mint blend to calm her nerves. Or black tea, for focus.
In the distance, a mass of white fluff poured down a hill and into a valley. It looked like soap suds in a bathtub.
“What is that?” asked Silver Spoon.
“Sheep, I expect.” Father went back to his book, hardly glancing up.
“Oh.”
They pulled closer, and Ponyville’s details came into focus: clusters of trees (orchards, maybe?), yellow fields of wheat and vegetables, tall silos, and bright red barns. Somewhere in the distance, a rooster crowed.
Silver Spoon paled. “We… we’re not gonna be farmers are we?”
Mother threw back her head and laughed, short and sharp.
Father blinked up from his book. “You’ve seen pictures of the new house, Brightness. It’s nowhere near a farm, remember?”
She did. A white brick place, wider than it was tall, with a cute yellow fence running around it. The garden in back had a gazebo perfect for tea parties—the only decent part of the move.
Still not as nice as their old penthouse. Not even close.
Silver Spoon’s ears drooped again. “I miss Manehattan.”
Mother blinked slowly. “What did I just tell you about sulking?”
“I wasn’t sulking, I was just…” She shuffled her hooves on the upholstery. “Thinking out loud. I just… why can’t we move to Canterlot? That’s where your appraisal job is, right?” She frowned at Silver Laurel, waiting for him to say something. Her father turned a page and said nothing.
Silver Spoon turned to Mother. “And wouldn’t it be better to have vocal lessons in a city that actually has an opera house?”
Pitch Perfect twitched her ears. The frown deepened.
Silver straightened her back and looked at the floor.
But all her mother said was, “The country air will be good for us.”
Silver Spoon nodded and said nothing more. She listened to the clip-clop of Brass Tacks’ hooves pulling their carriage along. She could just barely see the swish of his white tail through the window. Tacks was the only one left. The other servants left months ago, one after another.
“Unneeded help and a waste of money,” Mother had said.
Silver Spoon considered all the things they hadn’t packed: their ebony dining room set, much of Father’s art collection, and Mother’s old dresses and jewelry. Even some of Silver’s toys. “Toys or tea sets,” they’d said. Silver opted for the tea, of course. Toys were just toys, after all. She was a big filly, and she’d outgrown most of them. She’d live.
“It’s easier to move when you’re not weighed down,” Father had said.
Everypony knew it was always better to donate things, not sell them. It was charitable, and charity did wonders for appearances. The Silvers had sold everything at auction.
“Mother?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Before we left, I…” Silver Spoon adjusted her glasses and flicked her tail. “I heard Toplofty talking to Fair Weather. She said Taffeta’s mom told her mom that we didn’t have money anymore.”
Pitch Perfect blinked. She pulled her lace shawl around her shoulders and adjusted her sapphire headband. The emerald one went better with her orange mane, but she'd sold it two weeks ago.
“What a beastly thing to say.” Mother’s voice sounded small and distant, though she sat just a few feet away.
Silver Spoon’s throat got tight again. She’d never seen Mother like this before. She looked so different—smaller... scared, even. Mothers weren’t supposed to get scared.
“Silver.” Father spoke gently and smoothly. “Sometimes things… change. Things nopony can help.”
Mother nodded and lifted her chin. “And when that happens, it’s up to us to make the best of our circumstances. All of us.” She gestured towards the window, bracelets jingling. “Just because there’s a change in our surroundings, it does not mean a change in ourselves. Decorum is important. Now more than ever.”
The marketplace slowly rolled past the window. Ponies paused in their morning routines to watch the large carriage pass by. A few waved at them. A pink mare with a fluffy tail waved especially hard.
New ponies that knew nothing of the Silvers. New opportunities to make the right maneuvers and the right connections.
“Do you understand me, Silver Spoon?”
Silver Spoon took one last glance behind her, then turned to the road ahead. “Yes, ma’am.” She had no time for slouching, sulking, or slacking. It didn’t matter how she felt. Like it or not, Ponyville was her home now. Silver had a reputation to build.
The schoolhouse smelled like chalk and hickory wood. The bright paint looked new, but the floorboards creaked underhoof. Silver Spoon guessed it could be worse. Not for the first time, she peered out the classroom door, wondering where the rest of the school had gone. The whole building couldn’t be any bigger than Granddad’s study. She understood the small school—small towns like Ponyville had fewer foals to teach—but only one room? Not even a music room or gym or cafeteria?
Silver glanced at the rows of foals chatting amongst themselves. A few glanced in her direction. On one hoof, fewer kids to remember and keep track of meant the waters would be simpler to navigate. A pond of peers instead of an ocean.
Two colts in the back shared a long, hearty laugh. Silver Spoon twitched an ear. On the other hoof, that meant the few ponies here knew each other well. They’d probably talked to each other from the moment they learned how. Harder to carve a niche. If she messed up, she couldn’t quietly slip into the background and wait for it to blow over. Everypony would be watching. Everypony.
Silver Spoon took a deep breath that traveled from the depths of her chest to her wobbly knees. She couldn’t stop adjusting her glasses. Was her braid still straight? No split ends in her tail? She remembered to clean her hooves, right? What if—
A gentle hoof patted her shoulder. Miss Cheerilee smiled down at her. Silver remembered to inhale and smiled back. At least the teacher seemed nicer. Much nicer than Mister Martingale. She didn’t think he’d ever smiled a day in his life.
“Alright, my little ponies.” Cheerilee barely needed to raise her voice. The classroom chatter died down to a few whispers. “Before we begin, we have a new student joining us today!”
Four rows of foals blinked curiously at the new grey filly. A few smiled. So far, so good. Good thing she’d opted for the buttercup yellow dress. Pretty but not too showy, and the pleats were too short to step on accidentally.
“This is Silver Spoon. She’s come a long way, and I want you all to make her feel welcome.”
Those colts in back are laughing again. At me? Did I already make a mistake? Did… No. No, keep calm. Young ladies are calm. Silver lifted her head and straightened her back. Decorum, Silver Spoon. A filly gets only one first impression.
Cheerilee turned to her again. “Silver Spoon, would you like to tell the class a little something about yourself?”
Don’t waste it.
“Of course. Thank you, Miss Cheerilee.” Silver stepped forward, curtseying as she flashed her best dinner party smile. “Good morning, Ponyville. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m Sterling Silver Spoon, of the Manehattan Silvers. I just turned nine last September.”
Those colts in back were still whispering to each other. Rude. Silver mentally crossed them off the list of possible associates.
“I previously attended the Wisteria Academy For Young Fillies, named last year as the second most esteemed school for foals in all of Equestria.”
In the second row, a unicorn and a pegasus traded looks. The magenta filly behind them twitched her ears and tilted her head. Good.
Silver Spoon’s voice lifted with her confidence. “Last year, the upperclassmares' tennis team went to nationals. So did the debate team, lacrosse team, swim team, the fencing club, and the chess club. Our orchestra plays for Princess Celestia in Canterlot once a year.” She wondered what counted as an orchestra for this school. A couple recorders and a triangle?
A yellow filly with a tacky bow yawned and put her head in her hooves. Another foal stared out the window, watching some robins splash in a puddle.
Step it up. “Ninety-seven percent of graduates go on to university. Seventy percent of those graduates then become the best of the best in their fields.” As opposed to shopkeeps and farmers.
A chubby grey foal squinted at the clock and slumped in his chair. His eyes slowly journeyed from clock, to Cheerilee, to Silver Spoon, to the window, and back to the clock again.
“I left Wisteria with a three-point-nine grade point average. I was vice president of the Junior Debutante Club, and personally suggested the decorations and entertainment for the dance last year.” Silver’s smile twitched. She tried not to remember the fact that she would have made president this year if she hadn’t moved. “My hobbies include—”
“Um. Well, that’s very impressive, Silver Spoon,” broke in Miss Cheerilee. Her smile was kind, but the lines around it said "Wrap it up."
Silver’s hooves fidgeted. Ponyfeathers.
She should have known there’d be a time limit. She should have thought of that when she wrote down her introduction. Or when she practiced it in front of her fish tank. Maybe she could skip to the ending? No, the ending made no sense without the genealogy parts in the middle.
Silver Spoon frowned and stared out at the rows of classmates. Did she say enough? It didn’t matter now. She’d run out of time. It had to be enough.
“Thank you for your time.” She curtsied again for good measure and scanned the desks. They weren’t labeled, and she’d never received a seating chart. “Excuse me, Miss Cheerilee? Which desk is mine?”
The teacher shrugged with a little chuckle. “Oh, just choose any seat you like.”
“Hmm.” The room had sixteen seats and fourteen students, counting herself. So three—no, wait, somepony was absent today—four seats to choose from.
The seat in back? Out of the question. She couldn’t be seen back there, and it sat next to those colts who kept whispering through her introduction.
The free desk in the top right corner had great location, but positioned next to the chubby foal who kept watching the clock and in front of a filly with scuffed hooves and mud in her feathers. So probably not.
But maybe the seat right in the middle, next to the redhead? She wasn’t dirty, and she’d listened to Silver’s introduction all the way through. Plus, they both wore glasses, so there was something they had in common, right?
Silver approached her with a little smile.
The filly smiled back. “Hiya!” She wiped her nose with her fetlock and sniffed wetly. “Welcome to our clath, Thilver Thpoon!”
“Ehh... Hi.” Or maybe not.
That left just the last desk in the second row, right next to the window. It sat behind a blonde unicorn with split ends and in front of the kid with the tacky bow. The desk next to it was empty. Silver Spoon peered inside it as she took the window seat. Nothing out of the ordinary: a ruler, an ink bottle, a notepad, two textbooks, and a set of sharpened pencils. Glittery stickers decorated the notepad cover, but with the textbooks on top, Silver couldn't tell what sort of stickers they were. The desk could belong to anypony. She frowned. The absent foal was an unknown. A wildcard. Silver never liked wildcards.
Whatever. It was too soon to worry about. Neighboring the empty desk was nice in the meantime, and if worst came to worst, she could always change seats. Silver adjusted her glasses and turned toward the front, notebook in hoof and fountain pen in her teeth.
While Silver Spoon busied herself finding a seat, Miss Cheerilee had sketched out a forest diagram on the blackboard. She'd labeled and lightly colored everything from the green trees to the orange fox eyeing some white rabbits. A dragon flew over the trees, breathing a little red flame.
Cheerilee brushed green chalk dust off her muzzle and turned towards the class.
“Okay!” She always seemed to have the same keen tone of voice, like whatever she talked about was the most exciting thing in the world. “Now, last week we left talking about biomes and...?”
“Ecosystems!” the class chorused.
Silver grinned around her pen. The ecology unit had finished a few months ago at Wisteria. She and Wondermint had made dioramas for extra credit.
“Let’s recap: what’s the difference between a biome and an ecosystem?”
Six little hooves rose into the air. The silver one shot up first.
“Yes, Silver Spoon?”
“An ecosystem is a place where lots of organisms interact and survive, like plants and animals and prey and predators and scavengers and funguses. It all works together like a big web,” she recited. Her diction rolled crisp and precise. “But a biome is much bigger, like a bunch of ecosystems tied together, and shaped by environmental surroundings.”
Cheerilee nodded. “Yes, very good.”
A pair of orange earth fillies exchanged looks. Silver lifted her head and smirked. A pink unicorn raised an eyebrow. Somepony whispered.
“Last time we talked about the Everfree Forest as an example of an ecosystem right here near Ponyville.” Cheerilee took a metal pointer and skimmed it over the little green trees and the dragon. “But can anypony give me an example of a biom—Silver Spoon?”
“A desert.” Silver tucked her fountain pen behind her ear. No real need to take notes. “Which aren’t always hot. They can be cold, too.”
“That’s one ex—”
“Or a tundra. Or a forest—like a rainforest or a temperate forest—or a grassland or a swamp.” She paused a moment. “Oh, and also aquatic biomes like coral reefs and lakes.”
The whispers doubled. Silver Spoon spared a glance over her shoulder. She thought she’d heard her name. The pair of orange earth ponies pretended they weren’t looking. A scrawny kid with big eyes quickly glanced away when he saw her turn, as did a white unicorn. The filly with the tacky bow blinked and the tatty-feathered pegasus frowned. The chubby colt twitched his ears.
Silver waggled her eyebrows and grinned at them. It wasn’t ladylike to grin that way, but she found it hard to help. Not even lunchtime and she’d caught the eye of half the class.
“…in places like grasslands?”
Wait. What about grasslands? She hadn’t been listening. Silver’s hoof skimmed her monogrammed notebook cover. Maybe she should just try answering anyway. But if she got it wrong, that would ruin her streak. Then again, so would not raising her hoof at all.
She raised it halfway. Effort made, but not too noticeable.
Cheerilee nodded to the redhead with the sniffly nose. “Yes, Twist?”
The filly pushed her glasses on the bridge of her muzzle. “Um… hyenath are a kind of thcavengers.”
Silver Spoon’s hoof shot into the air and caught her opportunity. “Actually, that’s a myth. Hyenas are really good hunters and don’t scavenge all that much.” She flipped her braid over her shoulder and steepled her hooves. Good save.
Twist’s ears drooped.
That’s why you don’t answer questions you don’t know, kid. Silver Spoon quirked an eyebrow. The tatty pegasus glared at her. Another pony frowned. What was their problem?
“True, Silver Spoon.” Cheerilee wrote “hyena” in red chalk under a column for predators and another for scavengers. “But next time, please wait until I call on you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” After a moment of thought, Silver raised her hoof again.
The teacher blinked slowly. “Yes?”
“A better example of a grassland scavenger would be a vulture. Or a jackal, though they hunt too.”
As Miss Cheerilee wrote down the examples and dove into her lecture, Silver took the pen from behind her ear and scribbled notes. She didn’t really need them, but it made for good appearances. Plus, extra notes never hurt a pony. She kept her ears pricked and eyes focused. No way she was going to miss another question.
Besides, she didn’t need to look to know the eyes of the classroom were upon her. It kept her back straight, her hoof in the air, and her voice confident. She had the ball in her court and this was no time to drop it.
“There are actually some plants that are carnivorous, too. Who can name one?”
A little silver hoof waved in the air.
In the back, somepony groaned.
The scene before her was bizarre. Chaotic. Distressing. In the shade of a flowering dogwood, Silver Spoon poured herself a cup of tea and watched.
Two unicorn colts—the blue one who ate too much and the yellow one who ate too little—darted across the playground. The blue one jumped a bed of posies, swerving to miss the fillies playing hopscotch when he landed. His yellow friend tailed him, panting as he barreled through the sandbox.
And yet... they didn’t seem to be running anywhere in particular. The path zigzagged, doubled back, tumbled, tangled, and corkscrewed in random directions. There were no patterns and not an ounce of coordination. No order to it at all!
At first, Silver worried they were running from a mean dog or something. Or they were running to catch crickets or frogs (that was a thing colts did, right?). But there were no frogs or dogs or anything. They just ran for no reason, all sweaty and boorish and loud.
The blue colt pivoted on his front hooves and swung right. Too fast for the yellow colt. His gangly spindle legs scrambled to make the turn, but he couldn’t get traction. The grass glistened, still wet from last night’s rainstorm. His shadow loomed over the wide, shiny mud puddle right behind him and he didn’t watch where he was going and—
Silver Spoon gripped the edge of her table and squeezed her eyes shut. It was too horrible to watch. She shuddered at the squelch of mud underhoof. Her ears flattened against the wet, sticky splat of impact.
She creaked one eye open. "Augh!" Shudders rippled through Silver Spoon's pristine coat as she cringed. The poor colt dripped from flank to gaskin. Mud freckled his shoulders and neck, to say nothing of the total disaster of his tail. It would take hours to wash all of it out.
He didn’t seem hurt, save for his coat and his pride, but that was more than enough. Silver plopped a sugar cube in her cup. She kept an eye on her tea as she stirred, shaking her head with a little “tsk.”
Somepony's guffaw wheezed and rasped like a rusty gate. If the class didn’t notice his fall before, then they certainly did now.
Silver shrugged her shoulders. Well, that’s what you get for being careless. She felt bad for the kid—really, she did—but nothing changed the fact that it was his own fault. She took a little sip and glanced over her cup. Maybe the next time he’ll… wait.
Silver Spoon wiped the steam from her glasses and looked again, just to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.
A small crowd gathered around the scene, but the only pony laughing was the gangly, muddy colt. In fact, he laughed so hard he began to gasp. The yellow colt looked up, grinning as his stout friend came trotting back. “Hey, Snips!”
The blue colt chuckled with him. “You okay, Snails?”
Snails hopped up and shook himself. Mud splattered in all directions, though nopony seemed to care. “Heh, never better!” He squinted and frowned. “Except…”
Snips stepped closer. “What?”
“C’mere.” Snails peered over his shoulder and waved his friend over. In a conspiratorial whisper that wasn’t a whisper at all, he hissed, “It’s a secret.”
Snips pricked his ears and leaned in. A couple of spectators leaned in, too. “Yeah?”
“Okay, Snips. I need ya to listen reeeeal carefully. Snips? You’re…”
More foals gathered around them, craning their necks to see and flicking their ears.
“You’re… IT!” The gangly colt smacked Snips with both muddy hooves and sprang away laughing. The little crowd screamed and fanned out like Snips had suddenly caught the plague.
Silver Spoon put down her tea and stared at all of it, completely lost. Wondering if the lemon tea was too strong, she glanced at the cup in her hooves. Another pony’s shadow fell over the lace tablecloth. Silver looked up to find a unicorn filly watching her. She blinked.
The filly blinked back, smiling. “Hi!” Sweeping curls bobbed on her shoulders as she waved her white hoof. “I’m Sweetie Belle.”
“Oh, hello.” Clean coat and decent manners. She seemed alright. “I’m Silver Spoon. I just moved here.”
“I know. What are you doing?” Sweetie Belle poked the tablecloth laid across the splintery picnic table and peered at the porcelain teacups and teapot. A stack of cucumber sandwiches sat on a little blue plate that matched Silver Spoon’s glasses. A tiny spoon twinkled in the little sugar bowl. “Are you having a tea party?”
“What? Of course not.” You couldn’t have a tea party with only one pony, and besides, Silver’s dress was way too casual. “Just regular afternoon tea.”
“Why? It’s recess.”
“I know,” said Silver Spoon. She flicked her tail and fought back a grumble. She couldn’t hear the birds over her classmates' shrieking laughter. “It’s also teatime.” What else would she be doing at recess?
“So, um.” The unicorn shuffled her hoof. “Do you like Ponyville?”
“The air is fresher here. I like the ponds and flowers.” It was the only polite response she could think of. After a second, she added, “And when we first came, somepony threw us a party… Pinkie Pie, I think? That was nice, I guess.”
The party hadn’t lasted long. Mother didn’t appreciate unscheduled celebrations and Father hadn’t liked the confetti in his nice jacket. Neither of them liked the pink pony's volume. Silver Spoon liked the balloons and cupcakes, though.
Sweetie Belle smiled. “Oh yeah, Pinkie’s really great! She threw me an awesome birthday party last year.”
“She said she knew it was hard moving to a new place.” Silver Spoon had liked that better than the party. She felt a twinge in her chest, but she did not think about Manehattan and did not frown. Silver had company. “Father got a new job. He’s an appraiser for the Canterlot Museum of Art.” She nudged the cucumber sandwiches forward.
“What’s an appraiser?” Sweetie sniffed the sandwich and ate it in a few bites.
“It’s when you know how much things are worth. He used to do a lot for The Manehattan Museum of Art and Antiquities. He helped them get a Coltlock painting last year.” Silver took another sip of lemon tea and flicked an ear. It needed a bit more sugar. “What does your father do?”
“Oh, um…” The filly’s green eyes flicked about as she thought. “He’s a coach. For peewee hoofball teams, I think? I never really thought much about it. But my mom makes fishing lures.”
Silver quirked an eyebrow. “Makes what?”
“Fishing lures. You know, those things that go on fishing lines when you don’t want to dig up worms. She makes them look like flies and bugs so the fish will eat them and she’s really good at it!”
“Ew!” Worms and bugs were not polite conversation for young ladies. Especially not young ladies at tea. “Why would anypony need to go fishing? Ponies don’t even eat fish!”
“Cats do.” Sweetie Belle shrugged. “Somepony needs to feed them, right?”
“Hmm... I guess so,” said Silver Spoon. “My mother is Pitch Perfect. She’s an opera soprano. Her last production was Yeomare of the Guard; it got excellent reviews in all the papers. Even the Grazer Gazette.”
“I think my sister told me about opera once… it’s like a musical, right? Except ponies sing the whole thing instead of just a few songs.” Sweetie leaned over the table, rumpling the tablecloth. “Ooh! Did your mom ever sing on Bridleway?”
Her green eyes sparkled at the idea. “I always wanted to go see a Bridleway show but they’re all so far away and expensive. I’ve got all the big records: The Queens and Ewe, Lease, Mare of La Manecha…”
Silver smiled politely. “I don’t think so,” she chuckled. “Mother says musicals are just opera’s tacky half-wit cousin.”
Sweetie Belle wilted. “Oh.”
Silver tilted her head. Why did… Oh! Of course! In the midst of making conversation, Silver Spoon had forgotten her manners. No wonder the filly seemed so upset; she never received her invitation.
“Would you like to join me for tea, Sweetie Belle?”
“No thanks,” Sweetie said. “I don’t really like tea.”
It was Silver’s turn to frown.
“Actually, I was kinda wondering if maybe you wanted to come play tag with us.” She nodded to the shrieking chaos ripping through the grass. “I saw you watching us.”
“It looks… loud.” The grey filly cradled her teacup close as she took another sip. She fidgeted in her chair as a pegasus tackled an earth pony. “What exactly is tag?”
Sweetie giggled. “It’s a game!”
“But where’s the ball? Or the nets? Where are the boundary lines?” She stretched her neck to see better. “I don’t see a referee and who’s keeping score, anyway? What are the teams?”
“You don’t need nets and stuff for tag, Silver Spoon. It’s just… tag.” The unicorn’s smile faded at Silver’s lost expression. “You know… tag? Somepony is It and then they chase other ponies until they tag them.”
“Then what?”
“Then they’re It and they chase everypony instead. And that’s all.”
“How do you win?”
“You don’t really win tag,” said Sweetie. “I think you just play it.”
“Alright.” The teacup clinked upon the saucer. Silver adjusted her glasses and leaned forward with steepled hooves. “Let me get this straight: you just run all scattershot in a field full of bugs and there’s no rules, no referee, getting muddy and grass-stained while you smack each other with muddy grass-stained hooves. And nopony even wins.”
“Well…” The unicorn shuffled an uncertain hoof. “Yeah, but—”
“And you want me—me, in my brand new Prim Hemline dress—to stop in the middle of teatime to flail around in a gross, dirty, buggy field?” Silver Spoon flipped her braid over her shoulder and scoffed. “Yeah, thanks but no thanks.”
“Oh. Um… okay, then. Maybe next time.”
Silver wrinkled her nose. Fat chance.
Sweetie Belle walked off, tail dragging behind her. A scruffy pegasus waited for her at the edge of the field. It was hard to tell the coat color under all the grime, but her purple mane spiked and curved over like a tidal wave. “Well?”
The unicorn shook her head. “Nope.”
“Yeah, what’d I tell you?” The scruffy filly scowled in Silver Spoon’s direction and rolled her eyes before they both went back to the “game”.
Silver Spoon flipped her tail and straightened out the wrinkles in her tablecloth. “Hmph. Whatever.” If that awful commotion counted as “fun” around here, Silver would rather not have any. No, she’d have a proper recess right here under the dogwood tree and wait for decent company.
Surely one of her classmates would get tired of running around like late shoppers on Hearth’s Warming Eve and come join her. And when that happened, she’d be ready and waiting with her teapot.
Silver wasn’t worried. She’d taken every precaution to guarantee a lasting first impression. Make the right impression and ponies will come to you.
She ate another cucumber sandwich while she waited. She waited until the bell rang to come back inside.
Silver paused to look at the second cup and saucer, clean and unused, before she packed it up. "It’s okay. There’s always tomorrow."
On Tuesday, Cheerilee’s class played Guards and Robbers. Silver Spoon had jasmine tea.
On Wednesday, her classmates had a water balloon fight. Silver Spoon had Earl Grey.
On Thursday, the foals had a boys-versus-girls game of Mice and Manticores. Silver Spoon drank honeybush tea and reread The Clandestine Commons.
On Friday, Silver Spoon asked Cheerilee if she could stay indoors.
“Welcome home, young miss.”
“Hi, Brass Tacks.” Silver rolled off her saddlebag and let her butler’s magic take it. “Is Mother home?”
“Madame Perfect has not arrived quite yet, no.”
“Good.” Mother had a sixth sense about failure and Silver Spoon wasn’t ready yet to admit hers. She sat in the foyer and watched Brass unpack her things for her. His white suit contrasted nicely against a coat the color of sun tea. “Don’t bother with the porcelain cup. It’s not dirty.”
“Is that so?” The unicorn levitated the little cup in a soft blue aura. Pristine as the day it was bought. “Isn’t this from the tea set you brought on Monday? For your guests?”
Silver Spoon nodded.
Today was Friday. Brass frowned. “And you’ve not used it? At all?”
Silver rubbed her shoulder and shook her head.
Brass Tacks peeked under the lace tablecloth. The silver teacup marked with the filly’s initials looked clean, too. As if she’d never taken it out. “I notice you’ve come home uncharacteristically early for the past few days, Miss Silver Spoon.”
Silver stared up at him. Her ears sagged.
“Hm. Emergency tea?”
“Emergency tea.”
It was a smooth blend of lavender, chamomile, milk, and honey. Brass served it from a simple white ceramic set, the same one Silver had used since she was four. Back then, it poured hot milk because Silver Laurel didn’t think she was old enough for tea.
Two corn muffins steamed in the center of a little table. Silver took one and gently blew on it—an impolite gesture, but Emergency Tea had different rules.
“I just don’t understand.” She ran her hoof through her unbraided mane. “I answered every question right. I was polite, I wore my best casual dress—twice!—and I kept decorum. I did everything right.”
Silver took a bite of muffin and a long, long sip of tea. She closed her eyes and felt it steep in her system, warm and full. “I know I did everything right, but…” She breathed in the steam curling from the cup until her voice leveled steady and her chest didn’t feel tight anymore. “But I haven’t connected with anypony except Miss Cheerilee and I don’t think she counts. It’s her job to like foals.”
She glanced down at her folded hooves. “None of them want to come have teatime or talk to me. I don’t think they like me, Tacks.”
“You are a new filly, miss. It takes time to make friends and it’s only been a week.” Brass Tacks adjusted himself in the foal-sized seat and patted his muzzle with a napkin. “Have you approached them?”
Silver took another little bite of muffin and flattened her ears.
“Initiative is an admirable quality in a young lady,” Brass gently added.
“I know, but… these Ponyville foals are just so…” Silver Spoon banged her cup upon the saucer. “I don’t know what to say to them! We don’t have anything to talk about and I don’t like tag or water balloons or Guards and Robbers or that... that thing with the lines and you throw a ball around?”
“Four square?”
“Yeah, that. Why can’t they just have a tennis court like a normal school?” She finished her tea and glanced at her fish tank. The little betta fish’s indigo fins waved in the water like long silk scarves. Father had gotten him for her new room and his scales matched the wallpaper accents. Silver Spoon had named him Ferdinand.
Ferdinand was all alone, too. The pegasus who gave him away said he’d fight if other fish shared the tank. Ferdinand didn’t seem to mind too much.
“Berry Pinch called me a snob today,” said Silver Spoon.
Brass Tacks poured her another cup. “How unkind. What do you think made her say that?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t do anything different than what I always do. I mean, it worked at Wisteria Academy just fine. I had three friends by the end of my second day there.”
"Mm. Miss Brightly and Miss Fair Weather. They resided in our building, as I recall." Brass sipped his tea, pale blue eyes thoughtful. After a time, he said, “I’ll ask Miss Silver to remember this is not Manehattan.”
Silver Spoon blew a strand of mane from her face. “No kidding.”
“Consider this, then: As a different school in a different town, the rules of engagement differ as well. Perhaps the young miss should—”
“Change strategies,” Silver finished. She frowned and put a hoof to her mouth. “I need to adapt to the ecosystem.”
Brass Tacks smiled. “Precisely.”
“Within reason, of course.” No way she was setting hoof in the muck. Silver Spoon would drink generic-brand tea first.
The Silver Family traditionally began the day at precisely half-past six. Once upon a time, they had to beat the Manehattan traffic, for opera houses and academies held little mercy for tardy ponies. Now they did it purely out of habit and punctuality, with the additional bonus of a longer breakfast.
Still, the walk to Ponyville Schoolhouse took only fifteen minutes (twenty if she went slowly) and thus, Silver Spoon always took her seat half an hour before the bell rang. She'd use the extra time to her advantage and catch up on her reading, or review yesterday's notes with Miss Cheerilee.
But on Monday morning, Silver arrived to discover somepony had beaten her there. A bag she’d never seen before rested on the desk next to hers. No sign of the owner, though Silver Spoon could barely hear Miss Cheerilee talking to somepony outside the classroom.
Most saddlebags in class were made of tweed or oilskin or denim. This one was made of ocean leather, buffed and embossed to a slick shine. The blue stitching popped against the eggshell white and the buckles' silver finish sparkled. It was hard to tell with the bag closed, but Silver Spoon thought the lining looked like sateen, if not real satin. A blue G-clef keychain dangled from the strap.
Silver raised her eyebrows. The Bleu Rondo logo. Whoever owned this had excellent taste. She pricked her ears at approaching hoofsteps and turned.
Miss Cheerilee entered, followed by a pink filly carrying a folder full of papers.
“Good morning, Miss Cheerilee.”
“Hello, Silver Spoon.” Cheerilee smiled as she set down her things. “Are you feeling better today?”
“Much better, thank you.” Silver glanced back at the pink filly. The pink filly flicked her tail and returned the look. “Hello.”
“Hi.” She nodded to her bag. “You like it?” It was a question she obviously knew the answer to. She must have seen Silver examining it through the window. Still, it was only polite to oblige.
“Yeah, the stitching is really good. I didn’t know Bleu Rondo made saddlebags.”
“They just started last month. These are brand new. Daddy pre-ordered it, like, forever ago. I thought it’d never get here!” The filly opened the bag to show off the blue lining as she slid in the folder. “I almost got the pink and yellow one, but this one goes better with my eyes.”
“And white goes with everything,” Silver added.
Silence settled into the room again. Silver Spoon fidgeted in her seat and waited for somepony to say something else. Nopony did. The wood creaked. Cheerilee’s chalk clacked on the blackboard.
Ponies only get one chance at a first impression. But sometimes, a lucky pony got two. Time to take some initiative. Silver Spoon pointed to the folder. “So, um. What’s that? Make-up work?”
The filly rolled her blue eyes and groaned like somepony pulled a tooth. “Ughhhhh, don’t remind me.” She flipped the bag closed so she wouldn’t have to see the folder anymore. “Like it’s not enough I get stuck in bed all week with the ponypox, now I gotta get punished for it with more work.”
“Oh. Well, if you want…” Silver opened her own velvet bag and pulled out her notebook. “I’ve been taking really good notes all week.”
A little smile crossed the pink filly’s face. “Thanks, kid. Are you new?”
“Mm-hmm. We got here last Sunday.” Silver lifted her glasses, scanning the filly from top to tail. Her coat was freshly combed, and her hooves polished to a shine. “I’m Silver Spoon.”
“Diamond Tiara.” The filly carried her head high and stood braced and tall, like she owned the world. And judging from the edge in her voice, she was ready to fight for it. “You move in the white house on the corner across from Davenport’s? I saw some big, new carriage next to it.”
“That’s us.” Silver glanced at the bag again.
The filly obviously had money, but Silver Spoon didn’t think that money had been in her family very long. Nopony comfortable with their wealth stood like that. ‘New money runs, old money walks,’ Granddad Silver Tongue always said. Silver wondered just how new that money was. One generation? Two?
“We’re from Manehattan. Mother teaches voice lessons in town.” Silver eyed the shiny horseshoes under Diamond’s hooves. Probably two generations. This foal was too confident to be otherwise. “Father works in Canterlot, though.”
Diamond tossed her lavender and white curls and took her seat. “My daddy owns Barnyard Bargains. It’s the biggest and most successful business in town.”
The other foals trickled into the classroom. Silver couldn’t help but notice they gave Diamond Tiara a wide berth. The pink filly shook her head sadly, then tilted her head towards Silver Spoon with a sigh and a smile. “So nice to finally have some real class in this class. Besides myself, of course.”
Silver giggled at that. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but…” She glanced at Scootaloo’s raggedy mane and Dinky’s hopping gait. Her hooves covered her mouth as she giggled again.
“Like, have you seen Apple Bloom’s bow?” Diamond Tiara leaned over and lowered her voice to a whisper. “You’d think somepony’d tell her not to wear the same thing every day.”
“I know, right? At first I thought maybe that bows were just her thing, like she had a bunch of bows in different colors, but no, same thing every day. It’s so boring!” Across the room, Apple Bloom opened her book and chewed on her pencil. Silver rolled her eyes. “Change it up, kid. Bedazzle it or something.”
Diamond grinned. “Bet she’s gonna wear it till she’s as old as Granny Smith.”
Silver Spoon didn’t know who Granny Smith was, but she laughed anyway. “I just don’t get some of these kids. It’s like you’re the only one who even speaks my language, you know?”
“Oh, I totally know what you mean.” The pink filly nodded sagely. “It can be so hard sometimes. You know what you need, Silver Spoon?”
“What?”
“You need a translator. Luckily for you, I can be that transla—wait! Oh. My. Gosh.” Diamond Tiara’s eyes popped wide, then wider still. “Ohmigosh, Silver Spoon!” She leaned so far over her desk, the fillies almost touched noses. “Silver Spoon!”
Silver pulled back her head a bit. “Um… yeah?”
“I just had the. Best. Idea. In the history of great ideas. We should be friends. No!” Diamond’s grin got so wide it almost touched her ears. “No... We should be best friends!”
Silver Spoon blinked. Were you allowed to do that? Be best friends, just like that? The new filly shrugged. New town, new rules. Silver grinned back and laughed. “Okay!”
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New fic, about (pre-S1!) Silver Spoon, from the author of one of my all-time favourite fics (Somewhere Only We Know)...
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Faved, tracked, etc.
It felt so short. But it had a few cute moments. But that brick wall stop at the end. Ouchy, my face. It certainly has me wishing there was a bit more to read.
Looking towards the next chapter.
Still mulling over why this chapter felt so... thin. Like, it went by fast.
Best part of the story is how genuine the characters feel like you're actually seeing and hearing them. This is true SL right here.
Loving this fic up to now, and I don't just say that as one of your test audience. ;)
I'm looking forward to more!
Nice. Silver is New England rich, Diamond is LA rich.
This is a very interesting characterization. Nuanced and complex yet it still matches what we've seen in the show. Very enjoyable and I look forward to more.
Silver is acting the way she was raised
Nicely done. Don't suppose I got ever et you to pre-reward my own silver spoon fic one day
I can't help but wonder if this is in any way connected to A Diamond and a Tether. I'm a sucker for continuity like that.
As for the story itself? I love it. It's great.
This feels exceptionally good so far. A very enjoyable story delving into high-strung school politics, which makes Silver Spoon an oddly sympathetic character; like 5872066 said, it shows how she is simply acting according to how she was raised. I look forward to reading more and seeing what this story blooms into!
"Look, Silver, there's your new school! Looks great, doesn't it?"
"It's gonna stink. I liked my old school."
And then her father took a shortcut to get to their new house after missing the turnoff and they ended up in a bath house for the spirits.
(That time this story was spirited away by random crossover errors...)
A strange colt with wild white hair and thick green goggles wildly waved his hoof while wearing a manic grin on his snout, "Audrey 2!"
Cheerilee blinked, then sighed. Nerds were just the worst.
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True, Audries had been rumored to exist... but they hadn't been seen in hundreds of years... right?
Somewhere not so far away, a lone pony found his newest acquisition from the Everfree had grown unexpectedly rapidly...
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Of course Diamond Tiara of all ponies would have a leather saddle bag in a word where all the animals talk. That's just a whole new level of evil.
6121837
Ocean leather, actually. It's made of kelp.
An excellent opening! You make Silver Spoon very sympathetic, by showing how poorly she's fitting in Ponyville. She obviously doesn't know how she's doing it all wrong, and has no idea what else to do, coming from an expensive elite school in Manehattan. I'm loving the names of her old friends and schoolmates -- Wondermint, Toplofty... they're great!
I like Brass Tacks and his emergency tea.
This was the first fanfiction that I ever read on my own accord (my friend, who got into the herd, made me read MLD during middle school
) and it is amazing! I love this story so much, and I just wanted to say thank you for giving me a reason to get an account here, and it has kept me from going crazy many, many times. So, to PatchworkPoltergeist, you have my thanks and my respect for writing this amazing fanfiction! 
I hope to see a truly amazing ending to this story, one worthy of this wonderful plot!
Well I must say this is particularly well written. The narration isn’t too distracting nor does it bore the reader. There is just enough fluff to add flavor to the plot, and I can really see inside Silver Spoon’s head. It’s great how she’s nervous, but confident in her lessons. I like this. I like it a lot.
“An ecosystem is a place where lots of organisms interact and survive, like plants and animals and prey and predators and scavengers and funguses. It all works together like a big web,” she recited. Her diction rolled crisp and precise. “But a biome is much bigger, like a bunch of ecosystems tied together, and shaped by environmental surroundings.”
Kudos for the bio lesson. I had forgotten that.
The bit about her connecting with Diamond Tiara is very natural and feels exactly how they probably would have met. Part of me wishes their friendship wasn’t based in contempt for the “lower class” but it’s still touching to watch them bond.
This should give me some excellent reading material for now. Definitely worth tracking.
Silver & Diamond, the Crusaders, Snips & Snails (remember they brought the Ursa Minor to town) And they say small towns don't have a gang problem!?
Ooh, this made me cringe. Not in a bad way, mind you, but in a she's-totally-making-a-fool-of-herself way. Its interesting to have such an unpleasent protagonist, and yet still be able to root for her. I'm looking foreward to reading the rest of this.
I dunno. In narration, the way Silver Spoon describes herself, is like she's sarcastic towards her own obliviousness. It's like she wants to describe herself in negative light.
Ironic name, then. I like the subtle humor here.
I've been wanting to read this fic for a while, as it's regarded as one of the best Silver Spoon fics on the site. Seems to be heading that way, judging only from this first chapter.
either "to catch"
or "and caught"
8908619
Thank you for the concern, but both of those are fine as is.
The word missing isn't "had", it's "would". She [would] use the time to her advantage and catch up on her reading are separate clauses. (Otherwise, we'd have she would...catched up on reading which just plain incorrect English and would use the extra time to her advantage to catch up on doesn't work either. It's technically correct, but sounds incredibly awkward.)
In the second example, this simply a common way that people talk; when someone comes to the neighborhood, we say that someone's "moving in". That's really the phrase being referred to, but even if it wasn't, it's a key example of how dialogue cuts corners and words all the time. Also, Diamond's nine and more prone to this type of speech.
And thus the demon's where unleashed xD
Er... I think this should be Snips?
Also I am a little bit confused about the whole empty desks thing.
1) Diamond was counted among the 14 students, then 12 desks should have been occupied. But Diamond had her stuff inside her desk and that's what Silver found out after she examined 3 empty seats and decided to occupy the fourth. So there were apparently 5 empty desks in your narration instead of 4.
2) Diamond wasn't counted among the 14 students, then 13 desks should have been occupied. Then Silver remembered there was actually a fifteenth student and so she could only choose from 2 of the 3 empty desks since one of them was not for her to take.
Yeah, that's my train of thought. Correct me if I'm wrong.
Logically, that would be the case!
Right, so down the road we have the demigod and student of the immortal ruler of the country, a dragon, a reality-defying party planner, the fastest pegasus alive, the best friend of the most powerful being on the planet, an ex-cult leader (eventually)...
This is very interesting, I'm down to read.