Murder at the Rarity Boutique

by Coyote de La Mancha

Chapter 16: Taking Flight.

The search through the various boxes and their contents continued after that, about as each of them expected. But though the task remained laborious, Sour Sweet continued to be far more relaxed than she had been in recent days, and the time passed for them much more quickly.

They broke for lunch, stuffed themselves with delicious fare, and then dove back into the forest of boxes that remained. Odds against finding anything more were long in the extreme. But they maintained their devotion to their task steadfastly for hours, refusing to be deterred. Eventually, however, the growls of their stomachs could no longer be ignored.

“Geez, did we miss dinner?” Sour Sweet wondered. Rising, she went over to a far wall, moved a few highly-stacked boxes out of the way.

“Looks that way,” Blueblood nodded. “My fault, really; I asked for us to not be disturbed.”

Sour Sweet considered the clock a moment longer, then shrugged. “Well, it’s after eight. Think the kitchen’s still open?”

“Oh, I’m certain it is, technically,” Blueblood said, rising. “Spaghetti Squash is quite the chef. He’d feed all the world’s creatures if he could, just for the pleasure of seeing them full and happy…”

“…but it’s still after eight, and Spaggi’s got kids,” Sour Sweet nodded. “Yeah. Wanna raid the fridge on the sly? I make a mean PBJ.”

“And I do adore a well-made peanut-butter jelly,” Blueblood acknowledged. “But if I might suggest an alternative?”

Sour Sweet cocked an eyebrow.

“What if, as a change of pace, the two of us were to dine out?” Blueblood suggested. “I know a lovely little pasta place not far from here. They all know me there.”

She snorted, giving him a teasing look. “Don’t they know you everywhere?”

“Well, technically, yes. But we have a very sensible arrangement,” he’d told her happily as they exited the study. “I pretend that I am dining incognito, you see, and they pretend that it’s working. And then I pretend that I believe them, and leave them obscenely huge tips. Everypony wins.”

Sour Sweet laughed then. She had a lovely laugh.

As part of being ‘incognito,’ Blueblood stopped by his chambers, donning a long, black cloak that covered his clothing and his cutie mark. Normally he wore the hood up to complete the image, he explained, but on that particular evening he’d decided it was too hot for such conceits.

“I’m sure they’ll understand,” Sour Sweet grinned.

“I’m sure they will,” he agreed, also grinning. “They’re a very understanding bunch, you know.”

---

By the time they exited the palace proper, it was nearing nine o’clock. The guards stationed at the servants’ entrance to the palace, seeing His Grace’s incognito cloak, ignored the pair with practiced ease. Blueblood and Sour Sweet made their way down the terrace towards the main avenue, away from the palace district. The sun was not yet down, but it was lowering, making the shadows long and the breeze cool and pleasant. Nor were the streets crowded, with most ponies having either found pursuits away from the city, or else retired for the evening completely.

The two of them chatted happily as they walked, until an unfamiliar voice broke into their conversation.

“They’re on their way,” it growled from the shadows behind them.

The pair started.

“What?” Blueblood demanded, turning. “Who? Who is on their way?”

“The ambulance,” a dark grey pegasus offered in the same growl. She and her three compatriots emerged from the alley behind Sour Sweet and Blueblood: a green unicorn and two earth ponies, one a mustard-yellow earth mare, and the other a large orange brute of a fellow. All with identical looks, hungry and mean.

“Don’t worry,” the pegasus added as the quartet slowly advanced. “We ain’t gonna hurt ya too bad. Just enough for a hospital visit. Few days, maybe a week.”

“Bust you right in the haid,” the green unicorn among them nodded.

The few other ponies in the area fled, several calling for the police as they ran.

“Ah. I suppose I should have anticipated this,” Blueblood nodded as he and Sour Sweet stepped back a pace. “After all, I can hardly prove anything in court if I’m in the hospital.”

“Dunno nuthin’ about that,” the green unicorn said. “But we was given bits, and now we gonna bust you right in the haid.”

“But you’ll let the lady go, of course?” Blueblood suggested. “She has nothing to do with this, after all.”

“What? The hell you say!” Sour Sweet hissed at him.

“Nope,” the pegasus grinned, shaking her head. “Sorry.”

“Right in the haid,” the unicorn added.

“Aha,” said Blueblood. “Yes. Well.”

Then, to Sour Sweet, he asked softly, “I don’t suppose you can fight?”

“Yeah, I can hold my own,” Sour Sweet replied, eyes narrowing.

As the ruffians advanced, the green unicorn, grinning, reached out with his magic. A nearby rubbish bin glowed emerald for a moment, levitated, then crumpled like a paper cup.

“Well, that complicates things,” Blueblood coughed quietly as the two of them continued backing up. “Magic?”

“Crystal pony, remember?” Sour Sweet muttered. “I don’t see any crystal hearts around here, do you?”

“Whereas I can heat a teacup,” Blueblood observed. “And towels.”

“Outnumbered and out-enchanted,” Sour Sweet groused. “Perfect.”

Blueblood nodded to himself, then gave a small shrug.

“Well, then, why wait?” he said.

The two of them exchanged a glance, and without another word launched themselves at their prey.

Their sudden charge took the hooligans by surprise. But more than that, the street toughs were taken aback by the sheer ferocity of the attack. And for that matter, Blueblood later had to admit he was a bit, as well.

His initial thought had been to engage their unicorn, figuring that perhaps he could at least resist the other fellow’s spells with what small magics he possessed. But the orange brute had interceded. Blue fell into a combative stance, gave a quick feint, and landed a strike just behind his would-be assailant’s jaw.

He turned to the next rapscallion as the first one fell, only to find himself rolling with a charge from the pegasus mare, barely avoiding a collision with the wall behind him.

And then, both he and his adversary heard the screams.

The green unicorn was on his back, unconscious, straddled by Sour Sweet. Stars only knew what he had done, what magic he had tried to use against her. But it was she who was screaming, eyes wide open, tears flowing freely. Staring wildly as she unrelentingly smashed her forehooves into his bloody and unrecognizable face, again and again.

Immediately, the yellow mare tried to tackle her off her companion. Without pause, Sour Sweet kicked her rear hoof into the oncoming pony’s throat, meeting the earth pony’s force with her own. With a choking sound the earth mare stumbled and rolled into a nearby wall. She lay there, grasping desperately at her throat, making frantic, half-coughing sounds.

Sour Sweet was standing now, eyes still wide and staring. Hyperventilating, ready to strike again.

The remaining assailants were also staring, the pegasus landing beside their fallen yellow comrade.

“The fuck is wrong with you?!?” she demanded. “You crazy or somethin’?!?”

Blueblood moved to examine the unconscious unicorn, placing a forehoof gently on the other fellow’s neck. His heartbeat seemed steady enough, though his face had been broken in multiple places and his breathing was faint.

“He’ll live,” the prince announced, standing upright again. “But he’ll need that ambulance you’d mentioned. And in our defense, you did attack us.”

“Sure, for a coupla’ concussions,” the pegasus insisted, stepping forward. “Maybe a broken leg, or some ribs. But that crazy bitch,” she jabbed a hoof at Sour Sweet, “she’s gonna kill somepony!”

---

Once the ambulance and police had arrived, Blueblood was able to explain the situation sufficiently that Sour Sweet, aside from being offered a blanket by a policemare, was left essentially alone. As for the lady herself, she remained silent throughout. Huddled against a far wall with said policemare nearby, wrapped and trembling, refusing to be touched or meet anyone’s gaze.

Even their journey back to the palace was conducted in silence, the western sky painting its way slowly into night as the stars came into view, one by one.

It was only when they reached the servant’s doorway again that Sour Sweet spoke, stepping away from the open portal as she did.

“Blue, I…”

“It’s alright, love,” Blueblood said gently. “We’re safe now. Let’s just get you inside. I’ll fix you something in the kitchen, and…”

But Sour sweet was shaking her head violently. In a shaking, strained voice, she forced the words out, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

To either side, the palace guard ponies might as well have been stone. Unmoving, unseeing.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Blueblood assured her. “Stars above us know, you’ve already done more than anypony ever—”

“No, I mean this,” she said, her composure crumbling as she waved vaguely around them both. “All of this. This whole thing. I can’t. Not anymore. It’s all just gotten too crazy. I mean, sure, ponies have always said that I’m crazy, but tonight was just… I mean, we were almost… and, I, I could have killed that guy, and… I just... I can’t...”

Whole body trembling, she shook her head, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m sorry, I really am, but… I, I’m out.”

The stallion looked at her in dismay. “You mean you… you’re leaving?”

Sour Sweet hung her head. “Yeah. Consider this my resignation.”

Blueblood started. “What? No. Wait.”

“I mean, you’re a great guy,” she said with a nervous smile, still staring down. “Even if you are kind of an idiot sometimes.

“And it was really fun at first,” she went on, her words becoming faster. “I really liked it here. But I just can’t keep doing this, you know? I can’t keep pretending. I thought I could, for a while, but—”

“I don’t understand. Pretending? Pretending what?”

“Pretending that I’m not crazy,” she wept. “That I can be safe to be around.”

Blueblood stared in dismay. “What? Surely you’re not taking the word of that reprobate seriously—”

“You mean the guy whose friend I almost beat to death?” she suddenly cried. “The guy who watched me try to crush somepony’s throat in?”

“That was not your fault!” Blueblood insisted.

But she only shook her head. “I mean, it would be different if I was really helping somehow, but…”

Reaching out to her, he said, “Sour Sweet, please, stop a moment.”

She shied away, avoiding his touch. “I’m really sorry I can’t give you more notice, but I just—”

“Stop!”

Silence.

Blueblood sighed, pinching the bridge of his muzzle with one hoof, eyes closed. Finally, he spoke.

“There has been a serious misunderstanding,” he said.

Sour Sweet’s eyes narrowed as her head snapped up, her uncertainty gone in an instant.

“Just what am I misunderstanding?” she snarled. “You saying I can’t leave? Because you can just watch me.”

“No! No, it isn’t like that,” Blueblood cried. “Damn it all, you’re not just some employee! You never were!”

Sour Sweet blinked. “What? But…”

“You’re not here because you work for me. For me, or anyone else,” Blueblood said gently. As he stepped closer, he met her amethyst eyes with his blue. “You’re here because this is your home.”

Sour Sweet stared.

“Have you ever witnessed a hierarchy being enforced here, outside of jest?” he asked. “Hours being booked? Shifts being assigned? Of course not! And that’s because everyone within the household… is family.”

Mouth slightly open, Sour Sweet could only shake her head slightly as he spoke.

“You were never hired, my dear,” Blueblood explained earnestly. “Not really. Not in any serious sense. You were invited to join our family, not because you could do a job or perform a task, but because someone saw that you belong here. And whoever they were, they were absolutely correct.”

He placed a gentle hoof on her withers, and this time she was too astonished to avoid his touch.

“You have no set duties here, Sour Sweet,” he said, “and I am truly sorry you ever thought you did. You punch no clocks, you keep no set schedule, and you answer to nopony any more than you desire. If you need a day away, a month, a year… take it. And if you ever need anything, anything, be it resources or just someone to talk to, be it from me or anypony else, you have only to ask.

“All I ask in return is that you remember that there are ponies here who love you, and that the door will always be open to you whenever you wish.”

Sour Sweet continued to stare at him for a moment longer, visibly biting back tears. She barely managed a nod before fleeing. Whether from the palace, or from him, it was impossible to guess. In any event, within a moment she was gone.

For his part, Blueblood sighed.

“Please see that she continues to have full access, will you?” he said to the evening air. His voice seemed thin and strained, even to him. “Make certain your superiors know, and all that?”

Each of the guard ponies gave the slightest of nods.

“Thank you,” he said softly. Then he entered the old side door, gently closing it behind him.

Blueblood hadn’t remembered the way to his family’s chambers having been so long before. Nor the corridors being so dark and cheerless. But eventually, his silent trod led him back to his home within the royal wing, and his private study within that.

And here, too, he gently closed the door as he entered. He surveyed the seemingly endless tiers of many-colored boxes, the clock, the sheaves of notes taken over the course of just a few days. Until less than an hour ago, this had been a place of not only joy and laughter, but hope.

How had everything gone so wrong, so quickly?

“You were helping, my dear,” he sighed into the darkened room. “More than you know. But it was certainly my hoof that led you to what happened this night. And I would never hold you back when you wanted to fly.”

He walked slowly to the wet bar and poured himself a large glass of something green, downing it at once.

“It seems I do indeed have a talent for disruption.”

He poured another. Then, sipping it more slowly, he opened the crystal doors and walked out onto the balcony. He considered the wind, wafting up scents from the palace gardens below, and the stars ornamenting the dark sky above. Finally, he spoke again, his voice bitter in the nighttime air.

“How fortunate that I use my powers solely for good.”

Comments

[Thought Prism]

Uh, holy crap. What the hell did that poor thug cast? Either way, is it weird that I wish this story was primarily about Blue and Sour, instead of a painfully obvious murder mystery? Still, I can not believe Spoiled literally ordered a hit on Blueblood, even if it is Ice King style.

[Coyote de La Mancha]

10688288
We shall probably never know what the poor fellow cast. All we can know is that he probably brought up some very bad memories of the Crystal War (and Sour Sweet’s life under Sombra before then) when he did. And I’m glad that Blue and Sour is working for you.

And as for the hit... yeah. That crumbling sound you hear may be someone’s psyche under the strain of their own actions.

[EvilTreerat]

Assuming it was Spoiled...

As this story goes on i keep getting these itch that says its beyond her. Killing her husband in a fit of rage, fear, and greed? Easily. Planning months in advance to leave no evidence, pinning the crime on another pony, and making sure the trial is a farce? No. Same with ordering a hit on Blueblood. She might know where to find seedy characters, but hiring ones who are willing to attack a part of an absolute diarchy? No.

Someone else with knowledge, connections, and resources is involved. Spoiled is just a convient catspaw.