• Published 26th Oct 2016
  • 8,441 Views, 305 Comments

His Greatest Treasure - RoyalBardofCanterlot



Filthy Rich always thought of himself as a good father and a good husband. One day he discovers that he was wrong.

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Coal Miner's Daughter

Author's Note:

Very important. This is written from Spoiled's POV. Not my own.

She stared at herself in the mirror, placing a hoof on the cold glass. She shivered at the sensation. The pink fur beneath her eyes was stained with tear tracks. After Filthy had walked out the door with her-no, their-daughter she had rushed to her bedroom and wept tears of rage, shame and pain. It was not the stinging sensation in her backside that brought her tears, at least not entirely. That pain was beginning to fade after an hour. Her husband was wrong about her being a tribe traitor. She was plenty grateful for the endurance and strength of her Earth Pony ancestors which gave her a very high pain tolerance.

Still, that paddling had pushed it to her limit. She was very sure she hadn't spanked Diamond as vigorously as he had spanked her.

He had spanked her. Spoiled had not been spanked since she was a very young filly. She had nearly forgotten what it felt like. Red marks across her behind would continue to remind her for a while. He had not struck her in the face as if she were an adult mare or another stallion he was quarreling with down at the tavern in his more vivacious youth. No, he had punished her in the same way an old-fashioned parent might punish a misbehaving child. Spoiled would have been enraged if he had struck her in the face, but at least it would be an acknowledgement that she was an adult. But to be taken across his knee as if she were a toddler that had bitten a playmate? She gritted her teeth. Could he not have left her with some dignity? It had shredded her pride.

She glanced over at the black eyeliner on the oak wood dressing table, seated against the far wall of her spacious bedroom. A dark thought crossed her mind. She could use the eyeliner to make it look like a bruise. A cruel grin spread across her lips. Then, she would run crying before Her Majesty Princess Twilight Sparkle, Right Hoof of Celestia herself. What would the princess do? Filthy would be tossed into a dungeon for domestic violence. It was doubtful he'd ever see Diamond again.

Her hoof twitched and she reached towards the black eyeliner. No. Her constant concern for reputation stopped her. If this altercation got out it would spread like wildfire. It would destroy Filthy's reputation, of that there could be no doubt. However, the rumor mill would be sure to bring her reputation down with his. The tabloids would get a hold of it and the next thing she knew there would be a colorful tale spun about how Filthy had violently beaten her senseless after catching her in bed with the butler.

That and returning rational thought shining through the clouds of anger and humiliation told her that Twilight Sparkle of all ponies would be able to distinguish an actual injury from a fake one. At least one of her numerous degrees was surely in medicine.In that case, she could have one of the servants punch her in the face. They might be willing to do so, but she had not created the sort of loyalty in her servants that would cause them to commit perjury for her.

She trotted away from the mirror. For some reason, looking at her face was causing her to feel weary. She laid out upon the canopied bed, curled into the silken, red sheets. They were cool and comfortable, especially against certain tender areas. She looked around the room, at the wooden dressing table. The bookshelf pushed near the door. Atop the bookshelf was a jewelry box. Her engagement hooflace, topped with a diamond ring, took pride of place along with several golden necklaces. Some of the necklaces were simple, golden chains. Real gold, not painted copper. Other necklaces were strings of vibrant, white pearls. Still others strings of rubies or emeralds or diamonds. Some were set with exotic jewels like topaz or were composed of several jewels mixing together, their colors complimenting each other. She had bought only a few of them.

Most of them had been bought for her by Filthy. She had taken them as tokens of love. Often, he had bought them for her after dreadful arguments when he desired to make up. She trotted over to the skillfully carved, multi-tiered box, opened it and took out a necklace that was composed of a simple golden chain with a ruby cut into the shape of a heart attached to it.

"Here is my heart." That is what he had told her when he had wrapped it around her neck. "Treasure it, break it, here it is, it's yours." They had been dating then. She rarely wore it. It was too precious. Not just for monetary reasons, but for sentimental reasons. She was capable of being sentimental too. He had showered her with gifts back then and in many ways still did. The hickory wood hairbrush had been a gift from him for her birthday. She had been dreadfully depressed that day. She had hit the big 3-0. Thirty. She wasn't sure she could still call herself young nor beautiful. The hairbrush had cheered her up, especially when he used it to run it through her mane and whisper reassurances to her. She was still beautiful. They had a lifetime of love left.

A still angry part of her thought of getting a hammer and smashing the heart to one thousand bits. She couldn't do it. It wasn't the ruby's fault. She laid the necklace back on its hook and returned to her bed, fully aware that she was sulking like the filly her husband apparently believed her to be. A low growl escaped her throat. The servants had no doubt seen the altercation. She never reprimanded Diamond in the living room and nor did he. When she was to be chastised for something it was always in her own room. They would not want to hurt her dignity. Apparently, he did not regard her dignity nearly as highly. There had been that one time when she had been made to participate in the Zap Apple Harvest, but since that was part of the event her dressing up like a bunny should not have been as embarrassing as Diamond made it out to be. That, and she'd looked adorable dressed up like that. Spoiled still had the photographs.

Part of her didn't understand why he had gotten so angry. Did he really believe those ruffians were suitable companions for their daughter? Even if he wanted to argue that it was good business to keep friendly relations with the Apples, being friends with the Pegasus was unacceptable. Pegasii were violent, impulsive and aggressive. Their aristocracy, if they could be dignified with such a lofty title, were nothing more than the descendants of warlords who had looted and slashed their way to riches.

Her favorite aunt had been robbed by a Pegasus once. It had taken her aunt years of therapy to get over the trauma and since then Spoiled had never managed to trust them. Spoiled didn't want Diamond to associate with them. For that matter, she didn't want her to associate with the Apples too much either. Sweet Apple Acres may have been successful, but true aristocracy did not work so they could never claim that title. That was why Rarity Belle would never be true aristocracy as long as she continued her sewing business. It would make more sense if she hired seamstresses to work for her and retired in luxury. But no. She insisted on continuing to work even as her wealth and reputation grew.

Spoiled almost pitied Rarity Belle. The Canterlot elite would never accept her no matter how hard she tried. She was from Ponyville and in the eyes of Canterlot she might as well not even have a horn. The Canterlot aristocracy prided themselves on the purity of their bloodline. Rarity's clan's close proximity to an Earth Pony settlement implied the taint of mixed blood. Rarity could marry Prince Blueblood and that taint of a lower background would always be there.

After all, they hadn't truly accepted Spoiled either. Spoiled shook away that thought and hopped off the bed. Ladies did not sulk and regardless of her husband's opinion on the matter she was a mare rather than a filly. Her husband was being incredibly foolish to excuse their daughter's behavior. They both agreed that they should keep their daughter from physical danger so why couldn't they agree to keep her from social peril? Spoiled had wanted to send her to a private school in Manehattan, but Filthy had objected. They had roots in Ponyville, he'd said. Deep roots and Diamond was going to grow up here.

What he didn't seem to get was that if she continued to mix with those beneath her she would never be accepted among the aristocracy. Spoiled made her way down the winding staircase, looked up at the crystals hanging from the solid gold chandelier. Such wealth, such opulence. The Rich's, true to their name, had built up a vast fortune over Ponyville's century of existence. Even before that they were aristocracy and had links to noble families in more ancient settlements, even as far as Dream Valley.

It was something Filthy took pride in and so did she. She couldn't take much pride in her own family. She had clawed her way into this and still felt like a pretender. She strode into the living room. A maid, a green filly with a red mane they'd hired a few weeks ago, was dusting an expensive, blue Chineighs vase with a golden dragon pattern. The maid looked over at her and tried to hide a smirk. She failed miserably. Spoiled glared at her. The maid returned to her task.

The mansion was large and, even with servants, felt empty. Empty and still. Silence had descended over it like a shroud. Two hours had passed. The servants had learned to be silent. Not a sound, not Filthy's heavy hoofsteps and low murmurs, not Diamond's giggling while watching cartoons, not any sound at all rang through the house.

The silence felt wrong. By now, Filthy and Diamond were already on their way to Manehattan. He would come back. Maybe she would go back to West Virhinnya. Back to the mines to visit her family just as Filthy was visiting his. Her family did not farm. They mined. They were very rich, very successful miners. But they were still miners. She hated the term rock farming. Rock farmers were inefficient miners.

She had spent many an evening as a filly dreaming of better things. Dreaming of escape, a better life for herself than digging for jewels or wedding some drunken lout of a miner like her father.

That pricked her conscience. Her father was a drunken lout that had had the audacity to die of black lung disease before she was six. But he was a kind, hard-working drunken lout.

Too damned lazy to do any real work. The accusation was ludicrous of course and no doubt he had realized that not five seconds after saying it. Still, by the time he had met her family it was true. Her mother had married the owner of the coal mine. After the age of six she had known a comfortable life. But she wanted more, always more. Some indefinable longing.

She was not ashamed to admit that Filthy's family wealth was one of the first things that had attracted her to him. Then his rugged strength. Then his romantic nature. They had met because his father had business with her stepfather. After a three month courtship they had eloped. Diamond Tiara had been born the socially correct amount of time later. A bit early, but no cause for any rumors of pre-marital impropriety.

A knock on the door interrupted her musings. She hurried to it. No doubt Filthy had crawled back to her on his knees. She would require him to beg before granting him forgiveness.

At the door was a familiar, bespectacled grey Earth Pony filly. She was holding a comic book. "Oh, hi, Mrs. Rich."

Spoiled's shoulders sagged. "Hello, Silver Spoon. Please come in." She wasn't sure why she'd invited her inside.

Silver took the invitation. "Is Diamond here? I wanted to give her this neat comic book and maybe we could read it and...talk about some things."

The guilt on the filly's face was obvious. They must have quarreled and now she had come to make amends. "I'm sorry, Silver. Diamond isn't here. Her and her father have gone to Manehattan."

Her face fell. "Oh. When will they be back?"

Spoiled shrugged. "I don't know." She decided to take pity on the child. "She has gone to visit her cousin." She picked up a piece of paper and wrote down the mailing address. She handed it to Silver who smiled broadly and scampered off after thanking her. Part of Spoiled wished that she'd stayed for tea.

After Silver closed the door, Spoiled retired to the couch and turned on the television. She watched the first half-an-hour of a soap opera before realizing that she had no idea what was going on in it. She turned it off.

When will they be back? It was a question Spoiled couldn't answer. Surely, Filthy knew that the divorce threat was only a bluff. Even after this she was not going to divorce him.

What if he divorces you?

Her heart raced. She could barely catch her breath. No. She couldn't lose all this.

She stood. They had to find a way to work all of this out. It could be worked out, she was certain of that. They had had fights and obstacles in the way of their relationship before and they had overcome those. They could overcome this too.

She very quickly packed and then gave the week's instructions to the servants before heading out the door, towards the train station and Manehattan.