Chapter Four: In Sickness and In Health
Chapter Four: In Sickness and In Health
Equestria saw the passing of three days when Comet Burst made his daring journey to the home of Ms. Harshwhinny. He had been reliant on the elapse of time to soothe the mare’s mood. If she didn’t want anything to do with him just yet, he could always leave the casserole that was balanced precariously on his back and give her more space. A fluffy hot pad separated the bottom of the hot dish from his back. The back was one of the worst spots for a pony to receive burns. Burdens on top of burns made for an unpleasant experience.
Approaching the home crowned by a purple roof, he gave the doorbell a tap with his hoof. His ears perked, training on the annoyed grumbles originating from the other side of the door. For a fleeting moment he considered leaving the dish on her doorstep and fleeing, but the thought left as quickly as it produced itself. He was not a coward. He would face the mare and apologize for clumsiness, even if the cat was the causation. His greeting smile melted away as the door swung open and revealed the earth pony. Her body was bare, fur wet in patches with sweat and mane disheveled. Bags sagged beneath her sapphire oculars, exhibiting exhaustion. She sniveled, reigning in a rivulet of mucus that attempted to escape her nostrils.
“What?” she snapped hoarsely, her sickness diminishing her typical snark.
Comet Burst’s jaw fell open, yet no words came at first as his brain processed Ms. Harshwhinny’s sickened state. He found his voice once his mind progressed. “Oh, man…I…I brought you a casserole, and I wanted to apologize for what happened, but I never expected…” He gave pause, taking her in once more. “I never thought this would happen. I’m sorry…”
Ms. Harshwhinny knew an apology had been coming her way, and an apology would’ve been sufficient. What she didn’t see coming was the addition of a meal. She was familiarized with brown-nosing. Her years spent as an inspector meant ponies buttering her up for their own benefit. No hint of manipulation could be found in the stallion’s eyes. He actually cared. She just didn’t understand why.
“Apology accepted, but don’t expect me to be so forgiving the next time something like this happens due to your bumbling endeavors,” she said, raising a foreleg to cover her mouth as a minor coughing fit hit her.
“You’re talkin’ as if it’s gonna happen again.” Comet Burst chuckled as Ms. Harwhwhinny responded with a brusque expression. “Okay, it’s bound to happen again. But by then, maybe you’ll like me enough to forgive me.”
Ms. Harshwhinny’s was cut off by a sneeze that was followed by a more protracted string of coughs. Again, Comet Burst’s smile faded, replaced with concern.
“Hey, let’s get ya back inside.” Comet Burst took a step into her direction, dropping his head to gently nudge her shoulder with his nose. The mare’s coughing ceased, leaving a painful scratchiness to torment her throat. She lethargically turned around to retreat back into her home. The stallion followed her closely, paternal instincts kicking in. “Do ya got enough supplies? Need me to pick up anything?”
Ms. Harshwhinny didn’t have the energy to argue. Her sore throat, too, protested arguing. Laboriously, she made her way to a purple Victorian claw foot sofa. The mare felt as if she was trying to pull herself from a mud bog as she hauled herself onto the couch. Keeping the couch company, a small trash can was overflowing with used tissues and their empty box. Her body sank into the plush purple cushioning, silently cursing her misfortune. She hated being sick; she despised feeling so vulnerable, especially in the presence of another being.
Comet Burst’s eyes rested upon the trash can. “I guess that answers my question.” A gentle smile splayed over his lips as he met the mare’s gaze. “I’ll get ya some more tissues and other stuff. We’ll get ya feelin’ better in no time.”
The mare responded with nothing more than an affirmative grunt. Her eyes tailed him as he trotted into the kitchen, presumably to set down the casserole. The assumption was proved correct when he emerged without his burden. Striding across the room, he sent a toothy grin her way.
“Be right back.”
Ms. Harshwhinny’s eyes snapped wide open at the sound of her front door creaking open and slamming shut. Comet Burst, laden with a grocery bag dangling from his mouth and a stockpot saddled on his back, strode over to the mare. Setting down the bag, he fished out its contents. Box after box of medicated and lotion infused tissues were stacked within the earth pony’s reach. A bag of honey-flavored cough drops summarily deposited by the tissues, the unicorn raised his head and locked eyes with the sick mare.
“I got the good tissues that should be soft on your nose,” he stated. “And I figured that casserole wouldn’t feel so good with a sore throat. That can always be eaten when it’s feelin’ a bit better. I got the things I need in the pot to make ya some soup. It’s a recipe my grandma would make when somepony got sick. It’s spicy, but maybe it’ll speed up your recovery a bit.”
First, he brought her a casserole, then he picked up supplies for her, and now he is making her soup? Ms. Harshwhinny’s ears fell back, her stony countenance softening a slight degree as her hardened heart was touched with gratitude. She directed her cold blue orbs to the tissue boxes and cough drops, suddenly finding eye contact awkward.
“You know, ponies could easily take advantage of you,” she rasped and promptly cleared her throat.
“But you’re sick,” the stallion gently countered. Scooping up the bag containing the cough drops in his hoof, he ripped it open with his teeth and extended it to Ms. Harshwhinny. “You’re allowed to.”
Her ears twitched at the bag’s crinkling, retaining her focus on the object in Comet Burst’s hold. Tentatively, she slipped a hoof into the torn entrance to claim one of the cough drops. Freeing the honey-flavored tablet from its paper prison, she allowed eye contact.
“Thank you,” she said, popping the throat lozenge into her mouth and tossing the wrapper into the pile of used tissues.
“No probs! Your buddy’s here to take care of ya!” Comet Burst chirped. “You take it easy while I make the soup.”
Cutting up the fresh ingredients was time-consuming, but Comet Burst eventually horded a pile of diced yellow onions, garlic, ginger, tomatoes, jalapenos, habaneros, ghost peppers, and a single dragon’s breath pepper. All sauteed with olive oil, they were joined by vegetable stock, cayenne, cumin, oregano, and a few squirts of lime juice. Ingredients blended thoroughly, the stockpot was capped by its lid and the stallion left the soup to simmer.
Comet Burst found Ms. Harshwhinny resting her head upon a purple pillow leaning against the armrest. He paused his stride and allowed his eyes to wander. A few potted plants and pieces of artwork decorated the living space, but the vast majority of the walls were covered with photographs and shelves holding up ribbons, metals, and trophies. Curiosity compelled him to investigate. A high school-aged Ms. Harshwhinny was displayed donning a white collared and cuffed shirt and tie beneath a black jacket, suspended over two-toned fences with her forelegs tucked tightly beneath her. Youth Equestria Games was printed on the gold medals while the collection of ribbons proclaimed feats in various show jumping events.
The show jumping honors gradually lessened as Ms. Harshwhinny aged, only to be replaced by awards attained by a far more strenuous sport by the time she became an adult: steeplechasing. No longer adorning the sharp attire, the mare required nothing more than a helmet and her assigned number attached to a fleece girth. In every image, she was a magnificent sight. With each picture of her hitting the wire, her well-developed feminine musculature flexed beneath her sweat-slicked coat and fiery determination gleaming upon her features. In nearly every photograph, she was the clear winner by a significant margin. In one picture, she won by four lengths. In another, she beat the field by six lengths. The stallion’s eyes widened at an image where the closest mare was trailing behind her by a whopping dozen lengths. She didn’t just run enough to win, she dominated her competition.
Comet Burst stopped by a series of framed newspaper clippings. Skimming the text, her full name was revealed to him. “Victoria Victorie 'Vivi' Harshwhinny.”
“Vivi was a nickname bestowed upon me by my parents,” Ms. Harshwhinny croaked, nearly startling the stallion. “They couldn’t decide between Victoria and Victorie.”
“So they went with both,” he chuckled, scanning another column. “It works. Looks like ya lived up to your names. And Vivi is a cute nickname.”
“Refrain from calling me that,” she groaned, bitterness entering her tonality.
Comet Burst arched a brow in wonderment. Was the nickname something she only wanted to hear from her parents? “Okay, sure.”
He went back to reading. An entire page took up a frame, a photograph of Ms. Harshwhinny edging in front of a much larger stallion to win by a nose took up a third of the space. Parting his lips, he proceeded to read the headline aloud. “’The Undefeated Flying V Upsets Grade I Champion, Wild Wind.’ Wild Wind…He looks like a champ…”
The stallion was mostly obscured by the diminutive frame of Ms. Harshwhinny, but aside from the size he could make out bulging muscles.
The mare snorted, a brief cough following. “After I defeated him, he dodged me to ensure he wouldn’t be beaten by me again. He may be a winner of multiple grade I races, but he lacks the sportsmanship, courage, and heart of a true champion.”
Comet Burst scrunched up his muzzle in disdain. “Wow. That’s lame.”
“He’s a coward--an arrogant coward,” she grumbled. “After my injury, he finally ceased scratching from races. While I was recuperating, he accumulated the wins to secure end-of-the-year honors and had the audacity to declare there was nopony good enough to give him a run for his money. He could have defeated me if he hadn’t slowed down. The idiot believed he had the race before it was even finished. I closed in and passed him by a nose. The winning margin possibly could have been more significant if I hadn’t been impeded by other stallions. Wild Wind is quick, but he has no grit.”
The unicorn plopped himself onto his haunches before the mare, his visage expressing alarm. “You’re allowed to do that?”
“Of course not!” Ms. Harshwhinny paused to cough before resuming. “All who interfered were disqualified. I have never been able to prove it, but I would be a fool to believe there wasn’t foul play involved. I’m certain those stallions were paid by Wild Wind to throw the race in order to protect him.”
Comet Burst shifted on his rump, his mind processing the information transmitted to him. “I didn’t…think racing was actually as dirty as I heard.”
“Every sport has its dirty players. Don’t let it deter your interest. Steeplechasing runs deep in our history and culture,” the brown-pelted mare stated, bringing up her fetlock to cough into it again.
He nodded in acknowledgement, rising to his hooves. “Don’t put judgement on a thing because the thing has a few bad apples. Maybe you can tell me more about the sport when you’re feelin’ up for it. No better to learn from than a professional!”
“That is…one way of putting it.” Ms. Harshwhinny snagged one of the tissues. She exhumed a sigh through her nostrils the instant the velvety softness caressed her nose. “As for educating you on the history of steeplechasing, you won’t come across anypony more adequate than somepony who participated in the sport.”
The azure unicorn’s smile reappeared, taking a pair of steps aback. “I believe it! Come on, let’s head into the kitchen. The soup should be simmered enough.”
Ms. Harshwhinny’s tissue befriended the rest of the trash can’s filling before she scooted off the couch and followed Comet Burst into the kitchen. She parked herself at the dining table, awaiting to be served. She directed him to the cabinet and drawer where the bowls and silverware were stored. A scalding hot bowl of the soup was placed in front of her, the mixture of liquid, vegetables, and spices glowing with heat.
“Be careful when eating this,” Comet Burst warned, taking the seat across from her. “If you don’t like that, I can always make other soups. I can make garlic ginger. Or sweet potato and lentil. There’s a big chunk of that ginger left I can make tea out of too.”
“You have done more than what I’ve expected of you, Mr. Bur…Comet.” The mare dipped the spoon into her soup. She wasn’t used to this degree of sincere kindness. It would take her time to get used to it. “That would be appreciated.”
Ms. Harshwhinny studied him as she brought the spoon to her lips. Fire licked her lips and razed her mouth, but she gave no reaction to the tremendous heat. She understood the concern mounting in his burgundy eyes now that she had a taste. The earth pony could tolerate it. She possessed a constitution of steel.
Comet Burst’s concern shifted to alarmed awe. Whenever he consumed that same recipe, he always needed a gulp of milk after every bite in order to curtail the heat. Ms. Harshwhinny was eating spoonful after spoonful like ice cream. His jaw dropped as he observed the spectacle. This was one hardcore mare.
The mare found some amusement in his reaction. Her face reddened as her internal temperature climbed, but she remained resilient. Her mind then turned to the question that burned hotter than the soup: is Comet Burst really unable to use magic? She recalled his embarrassment and decided not to bring it up now. He was going out of his way for her. In time, she will have her answer.
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OK, this is a really cute story and can't wait to read more.
9710916
Thank you so much!
Snagged me at Harshwhinny and I enjoyed the rest that followed thoroughly. Can't wait 'till the next chapter!
9711288
Awesome! Thankies! How can one not love Harshwhinny?
9711289
No idea, but she's definitely a favourite of mine. Love your portrayal of her as with this Comet Burst character of yours! They're cute, in a way. They fit together so oddly, but y'all make it work out and I really want to see them gradually become more than "acquaintances" as she put lmfao.
9711297
Comet Burst has been in existence since 2011 and it's about time I do more with him. I'm really into the whole opposites attract thing. x3
9711298
2011? Jeez, my oldest character is from 2012 and I basically never write him, anymore. But I digress, you're making it work so far and I'm excited for you to continue lol
9711303
I'm glad to have the reassurance that my effort is providing entertainment. I have more old characters that need love, but one project at a time. XD
9711311
I get that, don't wanna spread yourself too thin while working! But I'm gonna leave it here. I don't wanna prove too much of a distraction for you lol; looking forward to any and all updates!
9711315
It's all good! I'm not working on the next chapter at the moment. I'll do that later. Kinda burned after finishing the artwork that went with it.
9711328
All of the pieces featured in this story are from you as well? Jeez. Here I was thinking you were just commissioning them or something akin to that. That's awesome! Makes sense you'd end up burning the writer's flame though; doing both literature and art takes a lot out of a person. Enjoy your time away while you can lol
9711333
Yep, I did all the art in this thang too. Lineart is especially a pain for me, but it's worth it.
9711342
I believe it, I struggle with everything except for minimalism, but it's good to see you can do it so well! Might inspire me to try again with actual works instead of just flat imagery
9711345
You can do it! Comet Burst believes in you! :D
9711348
Thanks for the vote of confidence, Comet xD I'll be sure to try arting again when I can. Until then, I'll keep up to tabs on your story and such!
9711353
Cool beans! And thanks for the watch!
9711355
Of course, of course! Y'all definitely deserve it lol
9711365
I really appreciate it! <3
Refusing to show weakness by acknowledging the soup is hot seems like exactly the kind of thing Ms. Harshwhinny would do. :)
9722919
And Comet is impressed by her...
GUTS.
i.imgur.com/AKExOYh.gif