Growing up wasn’t half as glamorous as you’d expect.
One moment you were a child—an unbound dreamer captaining the ship of your own existence, who followed the course set by your capricious heart’s desires. The next, you saw yourself becoming a teenager and debarking to never sail the high seas again. Apparently, there were rules against enjoying life when you’re older. Nobody warned you, nor asked if you were okay with those changes. Your opinion did not matter, because despite having more teenage years behind you than ahead, you still counted as a mere child to some ponies.
Yesterday, your only responsibility was to buddy up with your colleagues and to score good grades. Today your mom was telling you to behave. To be a serious pony. To watch and learn from those important mares and stallions she and dad were always fixating on, because one day you would join them too. You would join them at their parties, discussing serious topics, and involving yourself in the only correct way of life: the life of fancy you were meant to live.
If growing up wasn’t glamorous, then being a Fleur de Lis—being me—was even worse.
“You are slouching,” Riva said as we left the restaurant. “Come now, I will not have my daughters present themselves like that. You have to keep your head high. You have to be straight as a string, and don’t forget to smile, but do so delicately. To be noticed, you don’t need to dry your teeth. Or your… accessories, for that matter.”
“Oui, maman.” I ran my tongue along the metal wire. Bleh. I never got used to the taste. “I can’t wait to take these off.”
“Two months, is that correct?” Ancien laughed heartily. “Operation Overbite is drawing to its glorious conclusion! Just two months and she can shine her teeth all she wants! Haha!”
Riva hissed at him. “Juste ciel, Ancien, curb your enthusiasm. Ponies are watching. And where is Oriflamme—ah, here you are. Very well. Allons-y.”
Those three meant the world to me, but I wouldn’t exactly invite them for a cruise into the unknown. The fact aside that my mother, Rivage d’Azur, wouldn’t set her hoof on anything less than a luxurious yacht, she’d be constantly complaining about the weather being not mild enough, sights being too wild or exotic, or the ponies being too not-Prench. In fact, what was not inherently Prench valued less in her opinion.
My father, Ancien Régime, had a similar mindset. However, where my mother treated with disdain everything that laid outside the borders, he glorified everything within instead, the older and more rooted in tradition, the better. He frequently complained about the current government and secretly yearned for the return of monarchist rule, but despite his respected status in the military he was yet to stage an actual coup. Perhaps for the better. A luxurious yacht or plain sloop, a revolutionist’s daughter would have a hard time traveling abroad by either.
A peach-pastel filly strode over a mound of shoveled snow, her steps full of confidence. Oriflamme, my older sister. She would make a dependable companion on most days, but not on Hearth’s Warming. Not after she completely ruined it a couple of years back.
Such was my family, as proud and traditional as we could get—and in a way, also incredibly boring. Whether it was about art, food or music, we—I mean they—were most fond of the products of their own soil. A limited-time exhibition from Ornithia? Fine, but there’s a glass pyramid with a thousand Prench paintings, and we’ve only discussed half yet. A newly opened Istallian restaurant just around the corner? An acceptable choice, but let’s make sure to find something annoying about the service. Equestrians celebrating Hearth’s Warming, their greatest holiday, with a song? Ah, yes, they’re that kind of ponies…
There was a group of carolers at the nearest intersection, clothed in red-and-green winter vestments and funny hats with fluffy pompons. They didn’t seem to mind the cold as they were smiling brightly, singing one of the songs they brought from their homeland. It was a strange language, much simpler in form compared to Prench, but with an alluring cadence nonetheless.
O wondrous night, the stars are brightly shining
It is the eve of Equestria’s birth
My ears perked up at the foreign words, and immediately my cutie mark compelled me to listen. Although I got it under rather unusual circumstances, I had a grasp on what my purpose in life was: making beauty bloom, like a lily blooms to present itself in all its glory. Wherever I went, I strived to bring that concept to those who weren’t as sensitive to aesthetics as myself, be that through pointing out the beauty in others, appreciating it in things, or even straight showing it myself. Not always vanity-free, admittedly, but hey—one does not argue with what a mirror says.
To be honest, I was yet to come up with a job to go with that talent. I was thinking modeling, but obviously I had to get rid of my braces first. I could probably also use a boost in confidence, too.
Long were the tribes in woesome mistrust fighting
‘Till hope appeared for all who dreamt of mirth
“I know this one.” I realized, trotting up to my parents talking. “Maman! I know this one!”
“…and how was the auction, dear?” Ancien’s question came out on top.
“You will be pleased to hear that I have done my part to preserve our integrity,” Riva replied. “Not for the first time, might I add. Charity or not, I can’t understand why some of our acquaintances even bother themselves with griffon antiquities. It’s not like they’ll be putting them on display, anyway.” She threw a glance at me, the insisting filly prodding her. “Yes, Fleur? What is it?”
“Maman, the song those gentlecolts are singing. I know it!”
My mother’s eyes narrowed into thin slits.
“Is that so? Do tell.”
“We sang winter songs at school, during our last Equestrian class before the break. I mean, the professor actually taught us a different one called Silent Night, but then I went to the library and borrowed myself the entire songbook. I figured it would be a good practice for my pronunciation and vocabulary, plus singing in other languages is fun—even if you mess up the words, as long as you keep the rhythm, it still sounds mostly good.”
“A songbook, you say. Hmm. Let me guess, you know them all by now?”
“I-I know the one they’re singing. Do you want me to teach you?”
“Teach me an Equestrian carol?” Riva snorted a weird mixture of amusement and contempt. “Don’t be ridiculous, Fleur. Why would a mare like me, or like you for that matter, ever need to familiarize herself with these? I appreciate you making an effort to do well in classes, of course, but you do know I find learning such things a waste of time.”
“I wouldn’t presume to waste your time, maman. Therefore, do you think… do you think I could leave you here and go and sing a couple of verses with them?” I asked timidly, but with hope. I just wanted to sing, after all.
Riva scanned the carolers again. Calling her stare a distrustful one would be generous. Sometimes it felt like she had total immunity to things that I was enthusiastic about, as she cut my idea short.
“Out of the question. A great many of ponies, myself included, value the peace and quiet the winter brings. Oh, I adore winter! Less ponies crowding the streets is always good, but those… immigrants publicly raving about their Eve or whatever it’s called… that’s plain disturbing.”
“I don’t think they aim to disturb your peace,” I replied. “They celebrate the founding of their country, so naturally they want to share their joy with others. Don’t we do the same every year?”
“We don’t fly all the way to Canterlot to be obnoxious. Just look at them, grinning like a bunch of rabid monkeys…”
“Permitting it was the maire’s worst decision this quarter,” Ancien agreed. “Bah! Should we retaliate by singing something of ours? I can think of at least a few winter-themed chants. Glacial March, for example, that’s never a bad choice for a skirmish. Or The Regiments Across the Snow. Or the unforgettable Raise the Buried Banner! Say, Riva, you know the lyrics?”
“Ancien! I swear, what is with you and singing today…”
He enjoyed the idea so much he started humming loudly, but another of mother’s trademark hisses brought his performance down a notch.
“Besides, those are all military songs, papa,” Oriflamme pointed out. “I don’t think that’s the kind Fleur is talking about. We probably won’t need to know how’s a spear or shield in Equestrian, and the point is to learn vocabulary that’s actually useful, something to describe the season. Just because your songs have a couple of winter words in them doesn’t mean they describe it well.”
“Well, we certainly don’t need foreigners to describe it to us either,” Ancien grumbled back. “Anyway, when it comes to languages, I don’t think you girls should be focusing on Equestrian. What’s the use of it nowadays?”
“Oh, I don’t know, papa. Knowing your enemy?” Oriflamme quipped, giving me a wink.
“You may be right, Ori!” Ancien’s eyes shined with new zeal. “I think you girls should be focusing on Equestrian. If they launch an invasion, you will be able to gather valuable intelligence. Haha!”
I almost let out a chuckle. Almost. I chose to appear indifferent, as wearing masks always came easily to me. Still, I admired my sister’s self-assurance, that she never hesitated to stood up to anyone, our parents included. She had the guts I lacked, but I would never tell it to her face. It was obvious Oriflamme took my side to try to make amends for the last time, also known as the Santa’s last time, and I wasn’t sure I was going to give her that pleasure yet. I intended to wait until we’re old and wrinkled, or worse—in our thirties.
Riva laughed mockingly.
“An invasion, really? You’re being ridiculous, husband! A country that had one of its rulers banished by the other is hardly a threat,” she said. “Bof. Let’s change the subject. This entire linguistic deliberation is leading nowhere. What you should be focusing on—and that goes for both of you—are things that will help you in life. For example, you want to be an interesting partner for discussion, say when you’re at a cocktail party. The more you learn about our local art, society, or politics, the better. These can make a conversation.”
“With whom?” Oriflamme asked. “Ponies your age?”
“Mind the tone, young lady!” Riva scolded her. “I mean your future husbands, obviously. You can charm a stallion with a pretty face, but that alone won’t make him stay if he finds out you’re a dimwit. Consider it: if you want a regarded, noble, Prench gentlecolt to truly notice you—”
“What if we don’t?” Oriflamme interrupted, a tinge of uncertainty in her voice.
Funnily enough, I knew my sister’s reason for asking such a provocative question. That reason had a shape of a colt, wore layers of flour and scent of fresh baguettes, and lead a simple life at a certain undisclosed bakery. When it came to Oriflamme, he also had a name: Secretly Sneaking Out On Thursday Nights.
“Then you’ll end up a cranky lady like your Aunt Jaune-Jonquil. Do you want to become an old mare, filled with regret for not listening to her mother? No. I didn’t think so.” Riva’s gloat was evident in her stride. She thought of herself a successful mare, and there were times I couldn’t stand it. “Actually, let’s talk about boyfriends. While I won’t count on a mere crush to last, schools are excellent proving grounds for learning to separate the wheat from the chaff. Oriflamme? Anyone special on the horizon?”
“Uh—like, me—I mean… uh…”
I noticed my sister’s cheeks go rose. Her guts came at a price of being hopeless when it came to wearing masks. Worse—her maybe-boyfriend was hardly a regarded gentlecolt, at least not by our mother’s standards, and it would be better if he remained a secret for the time being. Then again, was anyone up to those standards? Perhaps some outstanding government official, a true fancy-pants, handsome, noble, intelligent, well-connected, caring…
No, there were no such ponies anywhere in the world.
A malicious thought crossed my mind: it was a perfect setting to finally get even for the Santa Hooves disappointment. To tell, or not to tell? I rummaged the thought for a brief moment, then heaved a sigh. True, winter gifts were now completely bereaved of magic because of Oriflamme’s lack of empathy, but the point of Hearth’s Warming was to be good rather than bad. Even though I was not technically celebrating it—not in that household, I wasn’t—I could tell it had something special to it. Something both magical and beautiful which stopped me from giving away the Thursday Nights’ secret.
Open your hearts
O hear our unity’s calling
We were sisters. That had to count for something, right? At the very least, we shared a common… adversary. I appreciated many of my mother’s traits, and she was an inspiration, in a twisted way, but growing up came with something your parents couldn’t give you: the innate need to rebel. And by the stars, it was stirring inside me. I just wanted to sing! So what it was a carol, even if an Equestrian one? It was beautiful in its own way, and I felt I should participate, deep inside. Was that too much to ask?
O night for one tribe
O night to make amends
She wasn’t going to let me sing? Well, I wasn’t going to let her stick her muzzle into Oriflamme’s private matters.
“No, but what if I don’t?” I quickly drew the attention to myself alone. “What Ori probably meant was, what if I find myself a husband who’s not Prench?”
“Let’s do our best to avoid such an eventuality.” My mother dismissed me and turned back to Oriflamme. “Why, you are blushing! Look, Ancien, she’s blushing! So there is a dandy colt in your life. Tell us. Tell us all.”
I took a bold step between my parents and my lost for words sister.
“Please listen to me, maman. In the interest of me finding a proper companion, I need you to explain something to me. I can choose who to approach on a cocktail party, with all the suave talk I can, but I can’t choose who will approach me. And I definitely cannot choose the pony I will fall in love with, now can I? Perhaps they will turn out to be a foreigner. Perhaps even Equestrian.”
“Fleur de Lis. I am not in the mood for your nonsense.”
I had to give it to her, she was doing an excellent job of making herself perfectly hearable without raising her voice. It was a little scary, to tell the truth, but I wasn’t going to back down easily.
The spirit of a teenage rebel took over me. I thought I was doing a really good job being a prim and proper filly, but come on, it was no longer about anyone’s boyfriend, about singing carols in public, or even about being tolerant with foreign stuff. It was about principles. I was the captain of my own life! I was allowed to make some rules!
“Why is everything that’s mine a nonsense to you?” I burst out. “It’s always the same old story with you, maman. Can’t you see the world is bigger than just our neighborhood? Well, guess what: it’s Hearth’s Warming time and I, for one, would love to learn what’s so special about it instead of dismissing it on a whim. Deal with it. Maybe I want to learn languages and travel, maybe find my future beyond the border, but you’re keeping me on a leash. I can’t even sing a stupid carol, that’s how controlling you are!”
Riva was furious, I could tell, but she kept a straight face. That mask-wearing thing? It ran in the family.
“First, keep your voice down. Ponies are watching. Second: controlling, me? Well, my sincerest apologies, young lady, for trying to set your life on a proper path!” she hissed angrily. “One day, when you’re more mature, you’ll understand how important it is to fit the society you are born into.”
“Oh, so until that day comes, I can go back and sing with those gentlecolts?”
“For the last time, Fleur, no means no!”
“Because what? Because they’re Equestrian?”
Riva stomped her hoof. “This has NOTHING to do with them being Equestrian or not. This is a public place and there will be no disturbing the peace of our fine neighbors!” she shouted, disturbing the peace of everyone’s fine neighbors. “Why can’t you be more like your sister, or at least try to be every once in a while? She can live her life as an elegant filly without being bothered by all those foreign distractions you’re letting in. I swear, one more word about this Hearth’s Warming rubbish and I’m going to lose it!”
“You’re going to lose a lot more if you keep that up, maman…” I whispered bitterly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If I marry a foreigner, what are you going to do, you’ll disavow me? Deny my existence?”
“Maybe I will!”
“Maman, Fleur, you’re embarrassing yourselves!” Oriflamme stepped up with a plea. “Papa! Do something!”
The moment my father heaved a sigh, I knew he wasn’t going to intervene on my behalf. He was part of the problem, he and his nauseating traditionalism, nationalism even. I was on the verge of my tears, confused and surprised how quickly the matter had escalated, but I couldn’t muster enough mental strength to stand against two adults at once.
Maybe I will!
My mother’s words cut deep, tearing the sails that had carried me through my youthful years. I wanted to believe that she really wanted what was best for me, but at the same time, how could she know what’s best if she didn’t care enough to know… me?
“Listen to your mother, Fleur,” Ancien said. “We are Prench, and we are proud to be so. There will be no silly caroling. Do you understand?”
Perhaps… perhaps it really was time to let my childish dreams go and drop the anchor in reality…
“Do you understand?” Riva echoed on a stern note.
“Yes, maman…”
“Very well.” She straightened her attire and fixed a disheveled strand of her mane—because that’s what really mattered to her. How she was perceived by the society, with little regard to her closest ones. “We shall head home now. In silence.”
Oriflamme opened her mouth to say something, but I shook my head. I wasn’t in the mood. I slouched and shambled, following my parents’ hoofsteps like a good daughter. I just wanted to go home, lock myself in my room... and cry.
Another year, another winter disappointment. Growing into a mare wasn’t getting any easier, or any more glamorous the older I got, and the joyful mystery of Hearth’s Warming remained elusive to me. Out of my reach. Even forbidden as of now, apparently.
My family and I—we didn’t decorate the tree because it wasn’t a Prench tradition to do so. We discarded the character of Santa Hooves and replaced it with a banal ritual of ponies exchanging items with other ponies, barely nodding to each other while we were doing so. We didn’t bake special treats, we didn’t sing carols, we didn’t do nothing to make those couple of days stand out in any way. And it wasn’t just us—it was our neighbors, the city, and everypony.
I could no longer stand it. Was it an Equestrian holiday? Yes. Was it only for Equestrians? I did not believe so.
Although we left the carolers and their song far behind us, their beautiful, mirthful cheer reverberated in my heart, easily trumping over the gloom my mother filled it with. My decision was made. One day, I would set sail and travel beyond the border, to a place where my boring Prench life would change forever. Where different ponies lived soaking in different cultures, celebrating different holidays and experiences. Where I could finally arrange my life according to my own schedule and not someone else’s.
I was a mare with a plan now, and by the stars I was going to make my dreams come true even if it meant planning every single aspect of my life. Step one: get rid of those braces. Step two: find a career that involves traveling. Step three: include Equestria in the flight plan.
A flame of old, the weary pon’es rejoice
For yonder south a new land is born
Step four: freedom.
That was... Interesting. I'm impressed that Fleur is able to see how controlling and manipulative her mother is, not many young people are able to do it. But damn, what an utter bitch. She's contradicting herself on so many points. Although, one thing I found interesting... What she's doing, is essentially what Fleur herself had planned to do once she got a kid of her own. She wanted to pave a road for her son or daughter to travel, and do everything she thought was right for them. Fleur's mother is doing exactly the same thing, but the only difference is here we see it from a different perspective, and actually carried out (as opposed to having a chestnut-coloured wrench thrown into the plans).
Quite the interesting chapter, indeed.
I know what you told me, but I still don't exactly believe in their need to keep ut that behavior or stay living there. I mean you either said me Chestnut wanted it or something similar, but after Fleurs childhood my first reaction is, she should do what she wants later or not continue what her mother did.
While I don't think she did the same, I will probably keep looking for something that is telling me about some differences now.
I'm still waiting for Fancy Pants to mess something up, to reserve the chase of who is the never fazed parent.
Not sure if she had a Nightmare and Luna appeared, but I was able to found out why I had the weird feeling for this story after reading "Luna".
In my last comment I read that Nutsie wasn't really fond of Luna, so again for whatever reason she had, I hope you allow her to have that opinion.
I see enough stories and opinions against them being perfect as I see for them being not so perfect, that means arguing about it again will be poinless. I only mean because I already had a discussion about that and I apparently wanted to deny that Luna and Celestia were some sort of heroes or something. Yep I know what the show is telling us, no I don't know what the comic is saying and I don't care which opinion is stronger on this side, I simply want to ask for her to keep that opinion.
I will probably not be that dissapointed if that's not going to be the chase, but I like it if characters aren't so easily convinced as I have seen it everywhere the first half of my time on this side and a bit after that.
I mean the main char doesn't wants to do something and suddenly he is doing it, or the worst Villain of the world get's a hug or some stern talking and is the nicest cuddle bear on earth after that. Lone wolf = happy hippo and so on.
That maybe sounds as if I have a bigger problem with it, but it's just another try/wish for getting an outcome I would prefer.
I know it's only Fleur talking to Luna now, but I don't remember the situation from before this chapter, the last thing I remember is an auction.
I said it because I expect there to be a dream from Chestnut and Luna talking to Fleur about it.
Oh while I'm not sure if I would normally want a flashback at this point, it was actually a good scene itself, sorry that Luna took the bigger part of the comment here. If you do it right this scene is something you can do interessting things with I believe.
After a scene like this I actually hope her sister has married the guy and not someone else because her mother told her to do it and if Fleur is still listening to her mother then maybe Chestnut can help her and bring out Agent Fury out of Fleur again.
Perhaps some outstanding government official, a true fancy-pants, handsome, noble, intelligent, well-connected, caring…
I see what you did there Prane.
Anyone else wonder if Chestnut will have to confront her ultranationalist grandparents?
ooohhh some good old De Lis background.
makes me want for a story when Fleur was young before and after she meets fancy
As a french guy I am surprised to confirm that this kind of people exists. I work with a woman that handle truck drivers that came deliver goods for the warehouse and think about foreign drivers "They deliver to France, they should learn French."
Though, to be honest, I'm surprised Fancy Pants measured up to mother and father dearest standards
So the Prench new about Luna, when the Equestrians didn't? But don't think (or somehow don't know) that beings that can cause eternal night (or day) on a whim are rulers (or threats) to be taken seriously? Now that is some blind nationalism.
It was said in the heat of the moment, but the fact that Riva went there so easily says a lot about her, and none of it is good.
9134170
I'm looking forward to it.
Great chapter
And now I'm mighty curious how things went with Oriflamme.
The news of Nutsie will hit them like a freight train. We shall see if it strips away all that stuff encrusting the grandparents at the core or if it will become a new battle.
9133954
That was the idea, a little discourse on the topic of Being Similar to Your Parents and Hating That!
In Fleur’s mind it was probably like “Oui, now that I’m older I understand why you wanted me, your daughter, to have a good life, and I can appreciate your noble intentions. But you kind of blew it with you being you. Since I’m your daughter but also totally different and not even remotely similar to you, I can do the life-planning with the same noble intentions, but better.”
How it turned out - how it could have turned out if it weren’t for Chestnut - we already know.
9134104
IMMA SMART PONI
On a more serious note, when Fleur went out there into the world, she probably wasn’t looking for a companion with those exact characteristics, but when fate brought her Fancy Pants, she didn’t protest. Possibly because he initially hid the fact he was the attache in the Equestrian diplomatic delegation to Shanghay, and much closer to the high society than she herself was comfortable being!
9134170
Well, they certainly won’t make an appearance in this story, but I imagine that older Riva would chill out a bit. I hope, for
Chestnut’sher own sake! For now I just wanted to establish Fleur’s family as characters in case (or because) I may not have a chance to write a story with them in a more central role.9134233
Well, this is the only bit of Fleur’s past that I’ve written, but I hope it gave you some general idea of who she was as a child/teenager: a dreamer following her heart whose path was kind of being set by her strict but - from a certain point of view - also really caring mother. When she first tasted true freedom in Shanghay where she met Fancy Pants, she took a course that led her into Equestria.
9135861
Makes sense.
9135829
All hail the little thestral-shaped-ball-of-chaos-that-wrecks-every-parental-plan-ever!
9135975
But it’s not in winter! Perhaps it’s not stated in the chapter, but I find April-ish timing perfectably suitable. So, Mister Inkblot talks a lot about celebrating it, but it’s not the holiday’s timing per se.
Hope that clarifies it. :)
9135391
Thank you, and thank you for sticking around!
9134581
I mean, yeah, this is a story written by a Polish author so how dare you comment in English!
On a brighter note, I met two French guys at Gamescom last week and they were cool - therefore I am glad to say that Riva’s portrayal wasn’t based on my own experiences with the citizens of Paris.
9135432
I was going to answer you on that because it’s nothing really major, but then I thought the answer can actually make a two or three lines in the next chapter. So I’m putting them there. Sorry!
9135289
The thing is, he didn’t - not at first sight, at least! But once he started using Ancien’s positive trigger words (”I agree that love can be seen as a conquest.” ”I will protect your daughter, sir.” or even “I will fight for her if I have to.”), Fleur’s father started thinking kinder of his would-be son in law. With their alliance secured, it was only a matter of time before Riva yielded... probably murmuring a salty, but honest “Maybe not all Equestrians are evil.“
9147868
When it comes to making yourself look better, there’s always a Bard hailing from the College of Glamour. Though I’m pretty sure Rarity would claim dibs on it.
9153878
I just like writing “eep!” because it sounds so cute in my head!
Boy if you only knew the tragedy behind THAT.
As a French person I would like to tell you that that's fucking stupid. And so are you. That is all.
9148113
Hey, Warlock and Bard both cast with Charisma, it's a solid multiclass option. Especially Tome Warlock and Lore Bard. ALL the extra spells. Plus, I don't think the Bard or Warlock level 20 capstones are too impressive, so you're not losing TOO much.
9154225
I sincerely hope this was directed at the character, not the author. If otherwise, let me know so I could address your concern.
Mhm, good point. Though I have to admit I was never a fan of multiclassing, regardless of game/system. I know some cool characters and min-maxing stuff can be done with it, but I’ve always liked sticking to that one chosen path.
9154292
No worries, it was.
I can understand that, plus, the whole concept of a Warlock is that you made a deal with a higher being, be it a Fey, a Fiend, a Celestial, a Great Old One, etc, so, that's a rather weird combo lore wise. Though it could be a musician making a deal to become even BETTER.
Just finished the first two books and now this. I can't wait for the next chapter!
9191979
That's awesome, thank you for checking them out! Right now I'm not writing the next chapter (so much work, so little time, plus I have my hands full with helping to translate one of my stories into Polish), but I hope to start working on it soon. The worst case scenario will be releasing the final chapter/chapters around Christmas - but given the theme, maybe that won't be that bad. ;)
Fleur's mother strongly reminds me of Spoiled Rich and if they were ever to meet they would probably have nothing good to say about eachother.
9291204
A quick google search tells me that the plural form of miss is indeed misses, and I just didn't know. I guess the "or" between Rarity and Sassy also made me think that the word didn't relate to Sassy.
Also fun word fact of the day, the plural of Mrs is apparently Mesdames.
9291269
I can confirm that both Rarity and Sassy are, at this point in the story, married only to their job, but otherwise “available” should dashing stallions appear and bring romance into their lives.
Yeah, I found that too. It looks bizarre to me, I can’t see myself using it in writing!
9576025
But what I am slightly miffed about is the date of the last update of this story, I love this, but when will be the next chapter? I think a lot of chaps would wish to read it!
9576754
This is true, and I am the only one to blame. I hit a snag at some point, then some IRL stuff occurred, and I engaged myself in other hobbies which - while immensely satisfying too - have cut down my time for writing to zero. I still intend to finish it before the official “end” of my writing career, so I only ask for patience. :)
Hi there. I absolutely love this story and the two before it. I'm a big fan of Chestnut. I'd really like to see how this story ends. I hope you finish it. You're a very good writer.
9675228
Hello! You have a perfect timing with reminding me about this story - in my line of work, the summer months are notably less difficult to manage, which may just give me a few extra hours a week to get back to this project. Plus, I could use something to cool myself given how hot it’s been lately. So, thank you for your patience and hold tight, because I’m making this summer productive! :)
9833807
On average, chapters in this story have 3000 words, just like this first one - sorry to hear you felt It was too long. But I’m curious, what would be a “just right” word count in your opinion? :)
I love the picture you painted and how you put this chapter in after the emotional display. Quite lovely. Can't wait for the next chapter in your story!
Also I hope the school year hasn't hit you too hard.
9861950
Thank you for your kind words! I have another chapter ready since July but I’m withholding it until I have everything. It looks like the story will be finally complete in December! :)
Also, the school year hasn’t been an issue for almost a decade now - it’s the work load that gets you nowadays. :D
*Blink* Wait, I've just finished the latest chapter? NOOOO!
9908585
See you in December. ;)
This was A lovely Christmas story it's earned a spot in my favorites and I am going to keep an eye on this I would love to know what you have in store for us wish you the best of luck
Most depressing Christmas song ever?
"First Christmas away from home" by Stan Rogers