Reasoning With Hurricanes
“I can’t… see… the back!” Diamond Tiara’s hooves slipped from the mailbox and she plopped into the grass. She shook herself off and rubbed her haunch, glaring daggers at the little red flag dangling at half-mast from the mailbox. “Silver, you’re a half-inch taller than me. You take a look.”
“You’ve already looked for like, ten minutes.” Silver Spoon craned her neck to squint at the aged brass. When was the last time somepony cleaned that thing? “I don’t really think I’m going to find any—”
Diamond stamped her hoof and twisted her face into a sour little pout.
“Eugh.” Silver rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Fiiiiine. But if my new shoes get dirty, I’m footing you the bill for new ones.”
She bunched her legs and jumped for an extra boost. On tiphoof, Silver just barely touched the grass. Why does Mr. Rich need a four-foot-tall mailbox, anyway? After a moment’s hesitation, she stuck her muzzle in. One forehoof gripped the edge of the mailbox while the other pressed against the warm metal. It smelled like old coins and rust. “I don’t feel anything, Di.” The tin-can echo of her voice made Silver’s ears ring.
Silver pulled her head back to let in some light. “Can’t see anything, either.”
“Well, look harder!” Diamond Tiara’s hooves paced through the grass, stopping every couple steps to try and peer over Silver’s shoulder. “There’s gotta be something! Are you sure you checked the back?”
Silver Spoon rapped her hoof against the back of the mailbox. “Mm-mm. Nothing’s in here, Di. Sorry.”
She dropped back on all fours and rubbed her achy elbows. Her shoes didn’t look too bad, though the pearl finish seemed a little chipped. Still, she’d ask Tacks to buff them when she got home.
The mailbox slammed shut with Diamond’s kick to the post. Her pout congealed into a bitter scowl.
Silver Spoon met it without a blink. “Hey, I’m not the mailpony, don’t blame me. It probably just didn’t get here yet.”
Or it got lost in the mail. Silver didn’t fancy a crosstown trip to the post office, and she especially didn’t fancy Diamond raging vendettas against the weird-eyed mailmare. Sources said Dinky’s mom had a habit of screwing up the mail, and a fight with The Dink was the absolute last thing Silver Spoon needed right now.
Not far away, a couple of voices murmured to each other. One of them laughed. Instinctively, Silver smoothed back her mane and adjusted her glasses before she turned to look.
On the other side of the fence, Cotton Cloudy and Tornado Bolt picked up speed as they trotted past the Rich property. They kept close to each other and didn’t stop to say hello or wave. When Cotton glanced up to notice Silver Spoon, she flattened her ears and went aloft, high into the clouds. Tornado Bolt flapped ahead of her.
Two weeks after White Lightning came to Family Appreciation Day and still not a word. Silver rubbed the back of her neck and suppressed another sigh. At this rate, Diamond wouldn’t need to start a spat with The Dink’s mom; just being a popularity risk would cut connections for them. Silver hadn’t checked the polls, but she suspected they hovered somewhere between math homework and alfalfa sprouts.
“I sent that thing, like, four weeks ago!” Diamond gave the mailbox post another kick and whirled on the empty sky with a snarl. “I know Applewood mail doesn’t take that long. Even when it’s not express mail it doesn’t take that long! Bet some stupid mailroom toady lost it.”
“But you sent a backup letter too, didn’t you?” Silver gently guided Diamond away from the dented post before somepony had to yell “timber”. “A couple days after you sent the first one, just in case?”
Diamond swished her tail, relaxing her shoulders a little. “That’s right, I put it right in Post Haste’s mailbag and that guy never loses anything.” Her wrinkled, sour expression smoothed out and the fires died down. Diamond Tiara’s ears sagged. “So why isn’t anything here yet?”
Silver Spoon considered it. “Maybe she didn’t send back a letter. You said she has a telegraph, right?”
“Yeah, but telegrams are way faster. I would’ve gotten it already.” Diamond flicked a thoughtful ear. “Then again, a telegram might not be addressed to me. It could just go to the house.” She frowned. “Or to Dad’s work.”
Silver sat up, brightening. “Oh, then that’s easy! We can just ask your father when he comes back from work.” Mystery solved.
“Yeah, that’s not happening.” Diamond adjusted her tiara and swung towards the house at a stiff canter.
“Wait, what?” Silver scrambled to catch up. “Why not?”
“Because it’s not.”
The front door banged open with one kick and slammed shut with another. Diamond’s hard little hoofsteps left indents in the plush red rug.
Randolph’s head poked out of the trophy room, a bottle of polish hanging from his neck. He blinked at Diamond Tiara, then Silver Spoon. The old cob pulled a sympathetic “better you than me” face, and slowly pulled his head back inside, closing the door behind him.
Silver pursed her lips with a little “humph”. It’d be so much easier to just ask, though! A little awkward, sure, but at least Diamond could know for certain instead of tearing into everything and everypony over it. Four weeks and two days is more than enough time; at a certain point, young ladies need to recognize a lost cause. “Yes, but—”
“Not. Happening.” Diamond flattened her ears.
She paused in the hallways to shoulder off her saddlebag onto a divan where it bounced over the velvet cushions. The bag wobbled on the edge for a few seconds before flopping back on the floor.
Something told Silver Spoon they wouldn’t get around to studying for Friday’s test after all. At least they had Thursday off as a study day.
Let’s see… Silver rubbed her chin, mentally thumbing through Miss Cheerilee’s review as they passed through the game room. We did homonyms and a little bit of eastern poetry? No, that was Monday’s quiz. Friday is the history test.
The pinball machines, pool tables, and hardwood floor of the game room gave way to the periwinkle carpet and monolithic windows of the living room. Diamond took a moment to root through the newspapers and business magazines on the coffee table for new mail. No such luck. She snorted and stomped back out and towards her room.
The history test covers famous ponies of the Classical period, and we talked about Smooth Sail and… Silver Spoon frowned. And who else? She recalled something about artists who did… statues? Paintings?
At the edge of Silver’s attention, Diamond Tiara muttered under her breath, “Wonder if it’s too early to get train schedules…”
Silver’s eyes followed the watercolor country landscapes hanging in the hall (Ponet did watercolors… was he on the test?) before shifting to the portraits on the stairwell. She paused on the third step to study the detailed crosshatch sketch of somepony in a big straw hat, proudly displaying a pile of bits in front of a tent.
“…a surprise,” said Diamond Tiara.
Silver tripped over a stair. “Sorry, what?”
If Diamond noticed Silver hadn’t been listening, she didn’t show it. “I said do you think she might come as a surprise? The letter could’ve gotten there late, so she had to rush and didn’t have time to send anything.” She paused on the stairs and frowned at a ten-by-twelve glossy of herself and her father riding the little boats at Whinnyland. “That’s possible, right?”
For the life of her, Silver still couldn’t figure out Mr. Rich’s décor choice. No nice oil portraits at all, not even a little one. Instead, a modest line of photographs stretched along the stairs: a teenaged Filthy Rich playing cards with some stallion in a bandana, young Diamond cutting the ribbon to a new Barnyard Bargains… lots of pictures of Diamond Tiara, actually. Silver Spoon pricked her ears. Diamond didn’t look much older than six or seven in any of them, except the ribbon-cutting one. Weird.
“Uh, sure,” said Silver Spoon. “I guess she could. You told me she’s spontaneous." She hopped up the rest of the stairs, with Diamond right on her tail. “But you know, even if she doesn’t—”
Diamond Tiara paused at the top stair and stared at her with big, round eyes. Her pricked ears slowly began to droop.
“Not saying she won’t!” Silver held up a defensive hoof. “But if—if—your mom can’t make it, you’ve still got your father, right?” She nudged Diamond’s shoulder and offered a hopeful smile. “I mean, think about it. A corporate exec against cloud pushers, bartenders, and farmers? You’ve got Family Appreciation Day in the bag.”
After all, Mother’s presentation last week went wonderfully. Silver puffed her chest. Shattering a drinking glass with one’s voice was always a surefire crowd-pleaser. But business stuff affected everypony in Ponyville, so it only made sense Diamond’s father would do just as well. Probably more.
No smile from Diamond Tiara. She didn’t even lift her ears. Silver decided to bring in the big guns. “It’s an easy win, right?”
“Probably.” Diamond pawed at the rug and nudged open the door to her room.
“Probably, nothing. I know it is.” If Silver brought it down to sheer numbers, a company CEO made more than an Applewood agent. Though showing off lots of cool celebrity clients likely had more clout.
But for once, clout probably wasn’t what Diamond was after. Silver Spoon sighed and patted her friend’s shoulder. “I’m sure something just came up last minute, Di.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Diamond didn’t smile, but her ears perked a little. She fell into her fuzzy beanbag chair with a ploof. She idly pawed through the moat of magazines scattered at her hooves. “Mom did tell me business was taking off. When we broke for lunch at Nationals practice, she showed me her little book full of all the new clients she’d picked up.”
“Oh? Anypony I’ve heard of?”
“Not yet,” said Diamond Tiara. She nosed open a copy of Show Horse. The cast of Blame It On Baltimare smiled from the red carpet. “It’s her job to make them big. She was actually gonna meet with one of them right after the pageant, so I helped her pick out a new pair of earrings.”
“You told me.” Silver high-stepped between the magazines and old comic books. “The amethyst studs, right?”
“Mm-hm. She said I’ve got excellent taste, and Mom never says that kind of thing unless she means it.” A smile crossed Diamond’s face, but it didn’t stay there. “Saying nice stuff just to be nice isn’t how a pony gets success. Like, if you’re a pushover, maybe ponies will like you, but they won’t—”
“They won’t respect you,” Silver finished. “Not how it matters.” She nodded to herself, adjusting her glasses. “Like, that junk is nice and all, but reputation’s forever.”
The bed usually made a much better sitting spot, but not today. Silver glanced at the wrinkled sheets spilling over the bed and onto the carpet. She cleared a spot and curled next to Diamond’s beanbag. Curious, she peered at the magazines under Diamond’s hooves. Apparently Spilt Milk had broken contract and gone solo. Her manager had no comment.
After a quiet moment, Diamond rolled over and sat up. She rubbed her shoulder, glancing at Silver Spoon a second before her eyes went back to the magazines. “Silver Spoon, can I ask you a question?”
“Uh.” I’m gonna hate this question, aren’t I? “Go ahead.”
“How come your parents moved to Ponyville?”
Yep. Silver’s tail curled tight against her. “They said the country air would do us good. And it’s good for commuting.”
“So, that means it’s a good place, right? It’s no Canterlot or Applewood, but it’s still okay. There’s nothing wrong with it, it’s just little.”
“It’s alright.” Not Silver’s first choice (or fifth) but decent enough. Equestria had worse places.
“So it’s not a loser town?” The intensity of Diamond’s stare made ants crawl under Silver’s coat.
Young ladies ought to be polite, especially to friends. Silver Spoon played with her pearls, considering the proper response. But friends were supposed to be honest too, right?
It was then Silver realized the hot blue stare didn’t aim at her at all, but the wall beyond. Discreetly, she turned. Oh.
A simple oval picture frame hung between a paper lantern and a Sapphire Shores poster. A mare with a golden coat stared out of it with sharp eyes that matched her violet jacket. Soft purple streaks cut through the pinned-up pink curls. Her loose posture didn’t quite fit the polished smile. A winning pageant sash stretched between her hooves and a very young Diamond Tiara’s.
A picture Silver had seen hundreds of times, but only in Diamond’s room.
She opened her mouth, thought a moment, and closed it. “No, Di. I don’t think it’s a loser town.”
Downstairs, a door slammed and a voice laughed, full and excited. Silver pricked her ears and grasped the change of subject for dear life. “I think your dad’s home.”
“Already? It’s only six.” Diamond rolled off the beanbag and poked her head out the door. She twitched her ears and trotted towards the stairs, with Silver close behind. Mr. Rich laughed again. “What’s he so happy about?”
The acoustics didn’t favor echoes the way Silver’s house did. All the soft carpets and furniture muffled sounds and made the words hard to make out. Something about upticks… explosions? No, expansions.
Silver Spoon leaned over the edge of the stairs, swiveling her ears. She heard “wolves” once and “apples” twice. From the look on Diamond’s face, she heard it, too.
It couldn’t hurt to ask. “What could be so exciting about apples?” Silver whispered.
Clouds darkened behind Diamond Tiara’s eyes. She lashed her tail and grumbled something too low to hear.
“…and that’s just fine timing, don’t you think?” The words solidified as Mr. Rich turned into the hallway. His cleanly pressed tie dangled from a suit slightly rumpled from a long day’s work.
Randolph tottered beside him, carrying a ribboned hatbox. Judging by the smell wafting from it, Silver didn’t think it had a hat inside.
Mr. Rich looked about. “Now, I know I saw her saddlebag up front, so she’s got to be around here.” His eyes fell upon the stairs and Filthy Rich’s face lit up like Las Pegasus. “Diamond! There you are, darlin’! Heh, what are you doing hiding at the top of the stairs?”
“Nothing.” Diamond Tiara shook off the storm clouds and went down to meet him. “Hi, Daddy. Did you make any money?”
“Sure did! The Hayseed deal went through.” He nodded towards Randolph lifting the beet cake out of the hatbox. “And they were nice enough to offer something for the trip home, too.”
Diamond perked up. “Ooh, it did? But I thought you said they didn’t want to expand. Did you show them the profit margin charts?” She paused to sniff the cake on the table. “Do I have to eat that?”
“Well, it wasn’t an easy sell; I’ve really got Miss Peppercorn to thank for smoothing out all the wrinkles. But yes, I showed them the charts.” He chuckled and kissed the top of his daughter’s head. “And I’ll just tell Turnip Truck you appreciated the offer. Hello there, Silver Spoon. How’s your folks?”
Silver dipped her head. “Very well, sir. Thank you.”
“Good, good. By the way, Diamond, I ran into Miss Cheerilee this afternoon.”
“You did?” Diamond’s voice soaked in plausible deniability.
“She says Family Appreciation Day’s already going on.” Mr. Rich tilted his head with a little frown. “How come you didn’t say anything?”
It seemed Diamond hadn’t expected that. Her hooves fidgeted, looking for a quick and easy answer. “Oh, uh…”
Silver Spoon took the opening. “We’ve just been really busy, sir.” She shrugged with a girly little giggle. “You know how it gets. Di’s been helping me catch up with school stuff, since I’ve been out sick.” Lightly, she elbowed Diamond in the ribs. “We have a lot of studying to catch up on.”
Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes and shoved her off. “It just never really came up,” she added with a touch of nonchalance.
Too much nonchalance, it seemed. “Hm.” Filthy Rich lifted an eyebrow and frowned again. “Are you sure that’s the only reason, Diamond Tiara?”
Diamond rubbed her foreleg and leaned against a table. She glanced at Silver Spoon, the beet cake, her hooves, the landscapes on the wall—anywhere but her father. “Um. I…”
Light glistened off Silver’s glasses. She stiffened as the realization hit. She sent those letters in secret. What in Equestria did Diamond plan to do if her parents figured it out? In such a small town, running into each other wouldn’t be hard at all. She swished her tail around her hooves, remembering the empty mailbox. Not that she needs to worry about that now, anyway.
“I… thought maybe you’d be too busy,” Diamond finally said. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
Mr. Rich wrapped a foreleg around Diamond’s shoulders and gave a little squeeze. “Aw, princess. I always have time for you. I promised, remember?” He looked up with a sudden smile. “Say, you’re off on Thursday, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Zap apple season’s right around the corner, so I was thinking…”
Diamond’s expression dipped into a frown, but she caught it at the last minute, wrenching it back into a neutral mask. A quick study; Silver had taught her how to do that.
“I’m heading down to Sweet Apple Acres tomorrow morning, why don’t you come along?”
The fillies exchanged quick looks. Silver shrugged, out of convenient excuses.
Di gave a stiff little smile. “Sure, Daddy.” The fur along her spine stood in a furious little ridge. “That sounds great.” She chewed her lip and waited a moment. “By the way, did you happen to get any mail for me? Or a telegram?”
Mr. Rich glanced down. “Hm? No, I don’t think so. Why?”
“No reason.”
“Nice work today, Silver Spoon.” Tealove held the door open for her apprentice, balancing a steaming porcelain cup and saucer on the other hoof.
Silver took her seat on the teahouse patio and politely received her milk tea. “Thank you, Miss Tealove. I’m sorry about your tablecloth.”
“Accidents happen, Miss Silver, though you’re normally so smooth in your pouring technique.” She added a sprinkle of cinnamon to the tea and stirred it in. “Is there something wrong?”
“A little distracted, that’s all. I’m meeting Diamond Tiara in a little while.” Her hoof touched the cup. Still a bit too hot. “She’s been at Apple Bloom’s all morning.”
Tealove must have noticed something amiss in Silver’s expression, because she frowned. “Is there something wrong with Apple Bloom?”
“No, ma’am.”
Twelve scrolls and a bucket of ink wouldn’t be enough to list everything wrong with Apple Bloom. She had split ends in her tail, dirt in her fetlocks, and chipped, filthy hooves, and she insisted on wearing that tacky bow all the time.
And Apple Bloom was far too loud. One could hear Apple Bloom’s obnoxious megaphone screech clear across Ponyville. It might not be so bad if her accent wasn’t so atrocious.
Silver folded her hooves. “It’s just…”
The filly was a walking, talking disaster on four legs. Bad enough by herself, but when her ruffian cohorts joined in, well, say goodbye to your peaceful afternoon. Their squabbling riot—in public, no less—nearly ruined the field trip to Canterlot Gardens.
“We’ve had some conflicts of interest.” Silver flattened her ears.
Apple Bloom was a bold-faced liar, too. And everypony kept falling for it! Anypony with eyes could tell those cutie marks in plate spinning and… boopty-doopting or whatever were totally fake. Instead of owning up when Diamond Tiara rightfully called her out on it, the snot just turned around and made a big stupid show out of her bogus “talents” to rub it in.
Nopony thought it was weird, nopony found it suspicious, and when the truth finally came out everypony just let that smug little blank flank off the hook. No lecture, no detention, no nothing! Sure, Apple Bloom apologized to the class, but Silver Spoon knew she was only sorry she got caught.
Silver tucked her braid back, wrinkling her nose a little. “We’re not exactly friends.”
Curly blue mane brushed Tealove’s face as she leaned to smile at her protégé. “Not quite your cup of tea, then?”
That joke should have gotten old weeks ago, but Silver laughed anyway. “You could say dealing with her is a travest-tea.” She smiled at her own joke and admitted, “I suppose she’s not the absolute worst.” Snips and Snails pulled far and ahead in that contest, and Scootaloo made them both look like Princess Platinum.
At least Apple Bloom had some home training when that ratty pegasus didn’t drag her down. The girl ranked low-tier on Silver’s list, but at the absolute bottom of Diamond’s. I don’t know what a pony has to do to rank lower than Scootaloser, but it’s gotta be bad.
Tealove lifted her head as a pair of ponies approached the teahouse. “Oh, that’s my eleven o’clock. I’ll see you next week, dear.” She topped off Silver’s tea before she skirted off. “I hope things work out with your friend.”
“Thanks. Me too.” Diamond hadn’t even arrived yet and Silver already felt exhausted. She rubbed her temples and sighed. “Sweet Apple Acres. Just what her bad mood needs…”
She took a long sip and closed her eyes. The warm breeze thread through her mane. A pair of chittering larks chased each other over the roof of the teahouse. The eye of the storm. Might as well enjoy it before Hurricane Tiara tears through Ponyville.
“As soon as Mr. Rich gives his presentation, it’ll be over.” Silver Spoon put down her cup and steepled her hooves. Her reflection skimmed across the dark blue porcelain. “I just need to ride it out a couple more days, that’s all.”
On her best days, Diamond Tiara had better sense than some adults. But bad moods had their way of clouding better judgment. Silver Spoon shook her head. No reasoning with hurricanes. All you can do is prepare for them.
Out of the corner of her eye, Silver caught Cotton Cloudy’s mother passing by. Cotton herself trotted a few steps behind. Judging from the bounce in their manes, they’d come fresh from the spa.
Prepare and repair the damage. “Good morning, Cotton Cloudy; Miss White Lightning.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “Cotton, I love what you’ve done with your mane.”
Cotton flicked her tail, unimpressed. “It’s not really morning anymore.”
White Lightning frowned. “Cotton, be nice.”
The filly sighed. “Thanks, Silver Spoon.” She fidgeted on her hooves, waiting to move on. Her mother stayed put.
That mare deserved roses. What a lifesaver. “Hey, are you doing anything this weekend? I’m having a morning tea.” She smiled, small and demure. Not trying too hard, but still genuine. She plucked out a blue and white invitation card. Silver’s embossed cutie mark glistened on the back. “Or if you have plans, I could do afternoon tea instead.”
Cotton Cloudy picked up the card like it could bite her. “Well…”
“My goodness, look at that. You’ve got adorable little business cards!” White Lightning fluffed her feathers, leaning over to look. “Isn’t that nice, Cotton?”
“Mm.” Cotton’s eyes trailed from the card to her mother before finally resting on Silver Spoon. She flicked her tail again. Caught between her mom and a hard place, she finally said, “I’m free Sunday morning.”
Silver clapped her hooves together. “Wonderful! I’ll tell the others that.”
“Others?” Cotton stepped back. “What others?”
“Oh, not many.” Tornado’s too quiet. I should figure out where that kid stands. “Just Tornado Bolt and Peachy Pie.”
The little pegasus lifted an eyebrow. “And that’s all?”
“Well, Sunny Daze is likely coming too, but I think that goes without saying. I may invite Rumble…” He’s big with the other colts and has had a bug in his butt since last September. Some ponies need to learn how to take a joke. “I don’t think he likes tea, though.”
“He doesn’t.”
“What a shame.”
Cotton Cloudy tilted her head, squinting. “And that’s all?”
“That’s all.” Silver Spoon finished the last of her tea and glanced at the clock. Diamond ought to be done by now. Today was not the day to leave her waiting. “It’s here, at Tealove’s; I’m thinking… ten?”
“Ten’s cool, I guess.”
“Great.” Silver dabbed her mouth with a napkin and pushed away from the table. “Please excuse me, but I have somewhere to be.”
As soon as she was out of teahouse range, Silver bolted. She rounded Sugarcube Corner, peering through the waves of multicolored coats and manes in the market crowd. No twinkly tiaras among them. Did I get here early after all?
Somepony poked Silver’s shoulder. “Silvie!”
No such luck. Silver Spoon braced herself and turned to find Diamond Tiara bouncing on tiphoof and… smiling? “Hey, Diamo—”
“Bunny ears!”
Silver blinked. “What?”
“She was wearing bunny ears! A whole little blue bunny outfit, hopping over watering cans and si-singing a little song!” Diamond rocked back with restrained laughter. She looked about two seconds from exploding with it. “I… I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. I swear I, like, almost died right there on the apple farm.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “I knew she was a dork, but—”
“Hold on.” Silver Spoon peeped over her glasses with a sardonic smirk. This was too fast. Too weird. Too good to be true. “We’re talking Bloom? As in Apple I-Can-Burp-The-Alphabet Bloom?”
“Oh, forget burping.” Di bit her lip and squeaked. “She was singing The Alphabet Song when she did it.”
Silver’s hooves hid her giant grin. “Shut. Up.”
“In the bunny suit.” Diamond’s silky tail waved in the air. “Little cotton tail on her butt and all! Like, I can’t even tell you how stupid it looked—like, fifty times stupider than usual. At least!”
“Excuse me.” A few feet away, a vendor frowned from her honey stand. The hives around her buzzed so loud Silver barely heard her. “Could you keep it down? You’re upsetting my bees.”
“Sorry, Honeybuzz.” Silver fished out a few bits and bought some honeycomb to make up for it. She broke off a piece to share to Di, trying to lower her voice. “Fifty times? Is that even possible?”
They moved on before Honeybuzz could complain about loitering. The marketplace didn’t look too interesting today. Daisy waved at them from a stand selling pots and pans.
“Oh, it is.” Diamond Tiara acknowledged Daisy with a nod and licked up the honey before it dripped on her fetlock. “Wish I brought my camera. I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard.”
Neither could Silver Spoon. At least not laughed and meant it. Maybe this wasn’t just the eye; maybe the storm was over. “Lucky. Wish I could’ve seen it.”
Roseluck manned the flower cart six stands down, in the spot Applejack usually set up shop. So much for those pink lady skins.
“See? I told you the apple farm wouldn’t be so bad.” She chuckled and patted Diamond’s shoulder, ready for more dirt on Apple Bloom’s dumb outfit.
Diamond sucked on her honeycomb and gave a halfhearted chuckle. “Yeah. It was pretty okay, I guess.” She’d stopped smiling.
Silver’s better judgment told her young ladies shouldn’t pry. It’ll just upset her again, and anyway, it’s none of your business. Eat your honeycomb and shut up.
But sometimes, even proper young ladies couldn’t resist. “Hey, Di? If I ask you a question, you promise not to get all weird and grouchy about it?”
“Since when do I get grouchy and weird?” Diamond pointedly ignored the flat look Silver gave her. “Look, whatever. Just ask.” Her pace picked up to a close-stepped trot.
“What’s your deal with that place? You ruin a good pair of shoes stepping in a rotten apple or what?” If Silver Spoon ruined a pair of Caulkin Clips, she’d never want to see that place again either.
The honeycomb stuck out the side of Diamond’s mouth as she sucked on it. “What? No, nothing like that. It’s just dumb.” She glanced to the side, watching Rainbow Dash haggle with a vendor. Diamond’s tail swept close to her legs and she said something else too quiet for Silver to hear.
“You say something?”
She kept her eyes on the vendors. “I used to go over there a lot when I was littler. Just got sick of it. Nothing to do there.” Her ears pinned. “Ponies always talking to me when I don’t wanna talk... they never leave you alone. And Dad kept acting like it’s the best place in the world.”
Diamond crushed an empty can with her hoof. “Like fresh air and apple pies would make me forget they were fighting.” The can made a satisfying clang when she kicked it. “Like I was too stupid to figure out what’s going on at home just because I’m not there.” After a quiet moment, she looked back at Silver Spoon. “Told you it’s dumb.”
“Oh,” Silver whispered. She considered the proper response to that, but without precedent to draw from, she came up blank. Wisteria Academy had its share of fillies with dead parents, but not divorced ones. Divorce made ponies talk. “Oh, that’s…”
Diamond Tiara saved her the trouble. “It’s fine. Don’t bother.”
“Okay.”
The subject dropped, but the remains of it lingered in the air. Silver needed to clean it, and fast.
She scanned the area. No nice accessory or dress shops in sight, weather was too bland to note… Silver huffed in frustration. Ponyville always had something weird going on. There just had to be something.
“Hey! You bite it, you buy it!”
Silver pricked her ears at Daisy’s voice and turned. Her jaw dropped. The sun burst through storm clouds, trumpeters trumpeted, choruses rejoiced, and rainbows shimmered in Silver Spoon’s eyes. Perfect.
She stretched her neck to follow Granny Smith gathering up her dentures and waddling through the market. The old pony bent over Honeybuzz’s stand talking sweetly to… Honeybuzz? No. Silver smothered her laugh with her hoof. No, she’s talking to the bees!
“Diamond!” Silver Spoon tapped Diamond Tiara’s shoulder, trying to whisper and failing horribly. “Diamond, lookit!”
Diamond swatted Silver’s hoof with her tail. “Silver Spoon, I’m not really in the—” She turned just in time to see the beard of bees crawl over Granny Smith’s chin. “Okay, wow. That’s almost weirder than the rabbit ears.”
That wasn’t all. Diamond pointed at a blue polka-dotted thing cringing at the old mare’s ankles. It looked kind of like a pin cushion with legs.
“What the heck is that?” Silver crept closer, squinting.
The puffy cushion thing tilted to the side and a lock of red mane poked out. A bonnet! Not only that, an honest-to-goodness pioneer pony bonnet, straight out of a Hearth’s Warming pageant if the pageant had zero budget and no costume designer.
Apple Bloom went stiff and stared them dead in the face. Against the lace, her cheeks went bright pink.
She didn’t smile, though a bright and wicked light danced in Diamond’s eye. “Oh. My gosh.”
Silver nudged her leg. “If we taped her butt to a record player, think we’d get music out of that stupid thing?”
“Yeah.” Diamond chuckled under her breath. “Maybe it’ll play The Alphabet Song.”
“Or The Bunny Hop.”
Apple Bloom tugged the bonnet around her face and zipped behind a beehive—too little, too late, dork!—and whispered something to her granny. Fat lot of good it did now; she was already out in the open.
Silver sniffed. That’s just what you get, going out in public like that. Playing fast and loose with common sense bit everypony in the butt eventually.
Granny Smith smiled in Silver’s direction and waved. “Hellooo, half-pint’s friends!”
Forget the honeycomb. This was way sweeter. “Hiiii, Granny Smith!” Her sugary smile could rot a mouthful of teeth.
Diamond Tiara let her silence speak for her and waved. Her gaze burned holes into Apple Bloom’s ugly bonnet.
Apple Bloom looked ready to faint.
Silver winked at her. “Hi, half-pint.”
Even Diamond’s infamous bad mood couldn’t stand against that. They broke; Silver Spoon doubled over, screeching with laughter. Diamond Tiara crumpled into a giggling puddle under her. They laughed until they ran out of air and laughed hiccups.
For the first time in four weeks, they went home with smiles and high spirits. Sometimes all a pony really needed was a good laugh. And why not be happy? Diamond had Family Appreciation Day in the bag (even if the presenter wasn’t her first pick) and Silver’s weekend sat primed to smooth out all the wrinkles in her social circle.
A filly couldn’t ask for a more perfect day.
It wasn’t until Silver Spoon was in her nightgown she realized she totally forgot to study.
“…capturing the wholesale market, purchasing in bulk…”
Silver Spoon’s ear dipped toward the lulling white noise in the background. Like warm milk. She sighed in her sleep. Milk in tea… mmm, more milk for your tea, Princess? I’d be delighted…
The gentle wash of tea at the bottom of antique cups. Perfect posture, no splashes… everypony applauds. Silver’s ear twitched. No, just one pony applauding. The acoustics in this castle are terrible!
Silver opened her eyes—which she was just resting—to Diamond Tiara’s enthusiastic applause as Filthy Rich took a bow. Silver suppressed a yawn and tried a little golf clap of her own. Presentation time started already?
She rubbed her dark-circled eyes and spotted the multicolored pie charts. Weren’t those supposed to come at the end of the presentation? The clock above it read two-forty-seven. Silver blinked. When did that happen?
“Thank you, Mr. Filthy,” piped Miss Cheerilee.
Silver Spoon shook herself, double-checked the clock, and the long shadows stretching from the desks. Did I seriously sleep through the whole thing? She remembered trying to double-check her answers, but Cheerilee picked up the test before she got the chance.
The headache from last night throbbed. “That is the last time I pull an all-nighter.” She wiped a spot of drool from her mouth. Did anypony see? Silver couldn’t hear any snickers and didn’t see any amused faces. Miss Cheerilee pushed on with her talk and Mr. Rich happily packed up his graphs; neither seemed offended.
Silver glanced to Diamond Tiara. Her friend tilted forward in her chair, her hooves folded and ears up while Apple Bloom talked Appreciation Day plans with Cheerilee. From the look of it, the gears in Diamond’s head turned too loudly to hear snoring—not that Silver snored—and had been turning for quite some time.
Excellent. Silver relaxed in her chair and sent a smile Di’s way. Whatever she was cooking up, it smelled delicious.
Apple Bloom and her obnoxious voice popped up between them, blocking Silver’s view. “Applejack an’ Big Macintosh’ll be too busy to come an’ speak.”
Diamond Tiara leaned back to catch Silver’s eye and smirked with a “watch this” wink.
“Oh,” said Cheerilee. “Is there anypony else in your family that—”
Up shot Diamond’s hoof, right on cue. “Miss Cheerilee!”
Apple Bloom went pale. Silver Spoon grinned.
“Granny Smith isn’t working the harvest,” pointed out the ever-most-helpful Diamond Tiara. “She could come.”
Silver could applaud. A thing of beauty. In one clean sentence, Diamond Tiara kicked Bloom down a notch and got her back for being such a colossal pain, all while looking good for Cheerilee in the process. Quick, clean, and smoother than Granddad Silver Tongue.
Monday couldn’t come soon enough. That silly little hayseed is gonna look ridiculous!
Silver could call Granny Smith’s presentation many things, but not “ridiculous”. At all. Nor silly or funny or embarrassing or awkward, either.
“And that is how Ponyville was founded.”
Silver Spoon slumped in her chair, open-mouthed.
An unusual stillness hung over the classroom. No quiet giggles from the back. No fidgeting, squeaky chairs or rustling papers. Nopony leaning over their desk to pass notes or look out the window. Even Sunny Daze and Peachy Pie didn’t whisper to each other. Every eye stretched wide, spellbound.
It had been that way for twenty minutes.
After all the timberwolves and lightning storms, it still felt like Granny Smith just started.
The story covered every single base and accounted for every listener: spooky stuff to entice Dinky, cooking to catch Truffle Shuffle and Twist, agriculture stuff for Peachy Pie and Princess Celestia for Sunny Daze. Bizarre weather phenomena got Cotton Cloudy and Tornado Bolt’s attention easily. It had adventure for Berry Pinch, Pip, and Scootaloo. Sweetie Belle and Featherweight liked stories in general, and Snips and Snails could never resist cool magic. Historical earth ponies for Silver Spoon. Stinking Rich for Diamond Tiara.
And besides all that, Granny Smith united them all under the banner of Ponyville itself. She didn’t give a good presentation; she gave a magnificent one.
Silver shook her head. She had no words.
The shortest Family Appreciation Day presentation blew every entry before it out of the water and into the stratosphere, Silver Spoon’s and Diamond Tiara’s included. For once, Apple Bloom claimed a legitimate win, not with dumb luck or deceit but just the best trump card in town.
Beside Silver Spoon, Apple Bloom’s eyes shone with awed admiration. Silver tilted an ear forward. Did she know? After all, Diamond planned her presentation with her father. Why not Apple Bloom and her granny?
Something Diamond said at the slumber party rattled in the back of Silver’s head: Bet she did it on purpose. Her eyebrows knitted. Could it be possible? Did she plan this? Silver Spoon frowned at Apple Bloom’s innocent smile. And if she did, when did she start setting up the pieces? Last Friday? The marketplace? Earlier? Her eyes widened. Could Bloom be some sort of proto Dr. Caballeron—a chess master of the highest caliber tearing down everypony foolish enough to stand in her way?
Her eye slid back to Apple Bloom’s big stupid, stupefied face.
…Probably not.
Still, mastermind or not, Silver couldn’t deny the shift in mood, nor the look on everypony’s faces. Whether she liked it or not, the social ecosystem of Miss Cheerilee’s classroom had changed. Time to adapt.
Point to you, hayseed. I know when I’m beaten. Silver Spoon clapped.
Diamond Tiara’s head swung so fast her mane smacked her nose.
Pitter-patter claps joined Silver’s until it built into full, enthusiastic applause. Diamond’s hooves stuck fast to her desk.
Scootaloo bopped around in her chair like an irritating kangaroo. “So if it wasn’t for you, Ponyville wouldn’t even exist!”
Silver Spoon inwardly sighed. Next she’ll tell us water is wet. She looked over Bloom’s head at Diamond Tiara.
Di stared back with a little frown. She didn’t seem mad, but her eyes flicked around her head, indignant and lost. And probably a little embarrassed.
It’s over, Di. Silver offered a sympathetic smile. Just let it go.
“Hey yeah!” cried Apple Bloom, absolutely not helping at all. She leaned towards Diamond’s chair and Silver Spoon did her best not to cringe. “If it weren’t for my Granny Smith, yer daddy wouldn’t have Barnyard Bargains!”
The trump card. A thin, priceless thread slung between their families. Everypony knew old connections topped almost every other… except debt. The ultimate, inarguable reason to swallow one’s splintered pride and play nice. Can’t reason with hurricanes, but you can’t argue debt, either.
The other foals in class murmured, nodding in agreement. If they didn’t figure it out before, they knew now.
Silver closed her eyes and sighed. In a way, she felt glad of it. Even a deaf and blind nag with dementia could see the only sensible choice left, aside from just stabbing themselves in the hoof. Nopony in Equestria, nobody in the entire world could be that—
She opened an eye. Oh. Her ladylike smile plummeted. She knew that look. Oh, no. Di, no.
Diamond Tiara fidgeted, unsure and struggling for the words. “But…” She set her hooves hard against the desk.
She couldn’t.
Silver’s eyes darted from classmate to classmate. I just rebuilt our reputation! Two hours of teatime listening to Tornado’s stupid Power Pony theories, all for nothing! An entire weekend of work!
“But she’s just…”
She wouldn’t!
Silver’s teeth dug into her lip. Diamond Dazzle Tiara, for the love of Princess Celestia! She rubbed her hooves over her face. Please, please, please don’t finish that sentence!
“…just a kooky old lady!”
Silver’s head thunked on her desk. She would.
Right on cue, the class gasped in collective horror and Silver’s stomach curled into a tight knot. This day just needs to stop. Forever.
It didn’t. Somewhere back in the rest of the world, Miss Cheerilee flipped through a stack of papers. “Class, before you go, I’ve got last week’s tests.” A paper slid under Silver’s hooves. “Sleep is for beds, not desks,” she whispered.
“Yes ma’am,” Silver told the desk. She flipped over her history test. The day got worse.
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I really admire Silver's efforts. Such a shame that Diamond Tiara is ultimately responsible for her every failure.
And I say that as a DT fan.
This story is a work of genius! You take everything into account and it is by far the best interpretation of these characters I've ever seen! I’ve said it before but I love how realistic you make these characters sound and act, they’re not some tyrannical do-badder villains, they’re actual reasonable characters just with different worldviews.
Thanks for writing and sharing this story!
Briiliantly written. What more can I say now?
6485574
Agreed. I especially liked Silver Spoon's insight into how Apple Bloom could look from the outside if you adopt a different angle. Nothing of what she thought in her head was untrue.
Diamond may be a lost cause, Silver
I almost feel bad for Silver Spoon playing damage control to Diamond Tiara.
There was a thing my father used to say, from time to time: growing up is hard work. I think this chapter is a particularly good illustration of that.
Also:
Divorce, as Silver Spoon correctly notes, is a class-marker. It used to be much more so. "He came from a broken home" was the common bourgeois excuse for all sorts of misbehavior, from bad manners to murder. It was a coded way of saying his parents were lower-class, and WE'RE middle class, so OUR children will never turn out that way. It was, like most public morality, contempt masquerading as compassion.
Then everybody started getting divorced and the bourgeois had to find a new excuse. I think right now it's high-fructose corn syrup.
I'm really enjoying this story, here. The one thing that took me out of my Suspension of Disbelief for a moment was Diamond Tiara standing on "tiphooves". A horse's leg already ends on a digit, so the description tells me that DT was effectively standing on the tip of her toenail. Nothing major, just an issue I had personally.
Great chapter. I get the impression from the pictures that DT blames her father for the divorce. The mom wanted to move out of this loser town and Filthy wouldn't move to Applewood?
I've always liked Mr. Rich, and you've made me love Silver Spoon and care for Diamond Tiara. But I'm definitely not liking Diamond's mom.
6485093 And after this past week's episode, this story becomes completely fitting with canon!
6517101 Too lazy to re-read, so refresh my memory:
On a scale of 1 to 10, how close is this version of DT's mom whose name I can't remember to the canon Spoiled Rich?
6517129
I think he was more referring to Silver struggling to put out Diamond's burning bridges.
But since you asked, it's...multiple answer. It's a 10 in the ancient original 2011 version, before Filthy Rich existed, Di's mom was pretty much Spoiled Rich in all but the weird nose.
In this story she's more of a 3. We don't see much of her (right now), but it's clear Diamond is focused on hard work and dedicated long, long hours to practicing for pageants with her. Less focused on wealth and status, more of a go-getter in general; the type that goes jogging at five in the morning while listening to Iron Will's self-help books on tape.
...Workaholism kind of runs in Diamond's family.
6517233 I'd say that's more of a 4.
Has your version got a name yet?
Apologies for being too lazy to look up the answer myself.
6517311 It hasn't been mentioned yet since I couldn't find a not-awkward place for it, but it's Golden Glitter.
[youtube=Mi8za2kTJDs]
This is so easily my favorite fic on the site right now it's not even funny
6485212 You just did an irony.
and by just i mean six weeks ago
no that's celestia's job
6490274
or muh feelings
I really like how Silver Spoon keeps trying to help DT out with her issues but DT seems to blow it every time, and ruin her own reputation. I also remember, this is before Spoiled Rich was in the show.