Stalliongrad Nights

by TCSNxs

4. Cider, Wine and Evening Time

Stalliongrad Nights
by: TCSNxs
Chapter 4
Cider, Wine and Evening Time

Prior to the founding of Canterlot, Stalliongrad was the
home for the royal House of Earth Ponies. As such,
I speculate that being the seat of power for those stallions
and mares with such deep connections to the earth, it
stands to reason that’s where the magic of Stalliongrad
comes from. Not of the horn or of the wing, but the
very spirit that makes those ponies who they are. It’s
not willfully manifested, but touches one on a level below
the conscious.

~ Excerpt from “The Chronicles of Starswirl”

The duo continued their evening at a piano bar away from the park. The Tavernacle, as it oddly enough called, was suggested by one lawpony to Fleur. It wasn’t very far, but it was enough to give them some sort of mental distance from the events earlier that night.

As they sauntered in, the first thing that assaulted them was a lively rendition of Hoagy Carmanechael’s “Heart and Soul” emanating from two pianos on stage. Drinks were plentiful and conversations were upbeat, being interspersed with laughter. A barkeep and few serving ponies kept the bacchanalian atmosphere going. It seemed promising enough.

The two approached the ebony bar and found space enough for them both. The barkeep was working furiously to keep up with the demands for libations to pay homage to the festive atmosphere. Mac looked to the tip jar near the register that was flowing to the top with currency and surmised it was indeed a good night.

The beer slinger finally spoke after a few minutes, “What can I getcha?”

“A wine for me, and…” Fleur spoke over the festive din. She glanced to her tall companion.

“Cider,” Mac spoke with his bassy voice.

The barkeep hoofed through the bottles and glasses. Fleur’s horn glowed softly as her magic reached for her coinpurse in the folds of her coat. Mac was moving to produce his own coinage when he spotted Fleur’s magic at work and arched an eyebrow, “Don’t fret. Ah got this.”

“Macintosh, it’s only fair. I owe you this at least,” she managed to get her purse out. It was, of course, a pale pink color with a Fleur’s namesake symbol on the bag. Two long straps made it useful for carrying or as an impromptu flail.

Mac shook his head as he quickly craned his neck backwards to produce his own money. Fleur was set to produce the required coinage as one of those straps haphazardly caught on a spoke on Mac’s yoke. A quick tug of war ensued as Mac’s strength worked against Fleur’s magic.

The barkeep came back and spotted the unicorn vs. earth pony tug of war. He figured to save the bag from demonstrating any divided loyalties, so he politely coughed. As Fleur and Mac stopped in the middle of their struggle, the barkeep spoke up. “Might I suggest the lady buy the first round, and the gentlecolt the next?”

Mac and Fleur glanced at each other with Mac giving a brief nod. After dropping the coinage, Fleur wrapped the drinks with her magic as the two tall ponies moved to an empty table where both parked their haunches. Fleur was about to speak when a particularly boisterous laugh stole their attention. Mac figured the joke must have been good.

“Macintosh,” Fleur finally spoke at length.

“Please call me Mac. Most folks call me that, or Big Mac,”

“So I see why,” Fleur gave a soft chuckle, “are you from around here?”

“Nope. Ah’m from up around Ponyville.”

Fleur searched her mental catalog. A good ice breaker was to allow somepony to speak of their home, “Sweet Apple Acres?”

“Eeyup,” Mac grabbed the bottle with his teeth and took a quick slug.

Fleur decided to allow him some pride points. “Mmm,” she took a quick drink of her own, “Do you know a pony named Applejack?”

“That’d be my sister.”

“I ran across her at the Canterlot Garden Party this year. She really is a gem.”

Mac gave a bassy chuckle, “She is. Though it’s hard to picture her at a garden party without actual gardening.”

“True. Though she gave a good account of herself against this weeds.”

“Ah imagine. Ya ought to see her against the varmints stealing our apples.”

“A spitfire then?”

“Somepony just needs to bring the fuel,” Mac replied without missing a beat.

~(0)~

The next few hours were filled with dueling pianos and loud conversations. Fleur was matching Mac drink for drink, though it wasn’t really a contest as much as courtesy. Both were warm and a bit mentally fuzzy, but neither complained.

Fleur allowed Mac a good deal of discretion in the course of the conversation. His proximity allowed her to push the events earlier that night out of her mind. She regained much of her usual composure and the company was nice. Mac spoke of a wide variety of subjects and she made mental notes of her own out of habit. Mac wasn’t sure why he was speaking at length, but found he didn’t mind.

Fleur allowed herself to drop some pretense in the face Mac’s honest appraisals. The candor was refreshing and the stallion wouldn’t likely hold it against her in the morning.

“When I say those ponies that frequent those parties with aren’t worth the air they breath, I do mean it,” Fleur was as close to railing as she got.

Mac nodded. He understood something of station and pretense, “About as useful as nipples on a bull.”

“Quite right, dear. Sometimes, I wish I could escape it,” Fleur gave an exaggerated sigh, “but I can’t.”

“A measure of a pony is in the things they do, not the things they say,” Mac offered, his accent only adding to the effect.

Fleur beamed inside at the comment. She recounted a bit of her life and business to keep the conversation moving. Also, it was simply nice to vent, “As do I, Mac.”

“Maybe ya should take a vacation to Ponyville? Mah sis says some nice things about the spa in town.” Mac spoke more from Rarity trying to coax Applejack there, but the farm pony would have none of it.

“Mmm. A massage does sound nice, but it’s difficult to get away.”

“Ah understand that,” Mac offered again. He took another drink of his cider, and suddenly forgot how many he’d actually had. His sheer size provided some defense against inebriation. That said, he had more than a few that evening.

“You know,” she gave a slow blink of her eyes and gave him a soft, firm stare, “there is something I don’t get.

“What’s that?” Mac’s head was a swimming a little.

“Your harness,” she figured there must be some pride behind it to wear such a pronounced, almost loud accessory, “I assume you wear it everywhere?”

“Eeyup.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” her tone carrying genuine curiosity, “why?”

“It was my pa’s.”

“Really? It seems such so large.”

“Yeah. But it’s been in mah family for generations,” he took another drink of his cider that was growing more tasty as time passed, “My ma and sister wanted to replace it. The wood’s worn and its been patched up more times than ah can remember. But just cause somethin’ is old don’t mean ya throw it away.”

Fleur found it kind of poetic and let the matter drop, “Indeed. I, for one, find it charming.” She raised her glass in salute. Fleur loosed a small hiccup while her magic blinked a split second. Maybe her head was swimming to.

He smiled as if thanking her for her discretion. His deep green eyes sparkled in the light. Fleur found herself staring into emerald like orbs when Mac spoke up, “Eeyup. It has a lot of worth to me.”

Fleur broke her trance, “What else then, Mac? What holds worth a pony who professes to simple things?”

Mac shrugged, “Mah family and mah farm. Not much else to life.”

“Oh! So you have a special somepony then?” Fleur gave a good natured tease though she misinterpreted the statement. Fleur wasn’t sure why she was fishing though.

“Nope. Nopony to buck mah trees.” Mac ventured to joke. He normally would never speak as such around a mare, but between the alcohol, the company and the conversation, his tongue was looser than normal, “Ain’t had much time for it.”

Fleur laughed and put a hoof on his shoulder, pushing off as she smiled. Mac found her simply beautiful to look at and those lavender eyes were devastating weapons to any pony on the business end of that gaze.

Mac indeed understood a portion of his lack of manners was in the company. She wasn’t judging him beyond the scope of the conversation and her mind was sharp. Mac respected that.

“Funny that. One would think a stallion, such as yourself, would be quite the catch.”

If Mac’s coat could have turned any redder. Still, he took the compliment in stride, “Thank ya, ma’am.” Mac needed to find a comfortable crutch and his manners worked as well as anything.

Fleur read the social cue for what it was and decided against pressing much further, “Sometimes it’s hard to get away.”

“Eeyup.”

~(0)~

They left the Tarvernacle a while later. Mac and Fleur walked side by side in the chilly night air. The wind was blowing, but Mac found his countenance warm and his mind returning from its swimming escapades. The park was cleared as if nothing happened while the street lamps bathed the area in a pale glow, casting soft shadows that melted into the night. Fleur thought that it were metaphorical.

“You know, Mac.”

“Eeyup,” Mac acknowledged.

Fleur was growing to appreciate the versatility of the word, “I wonder, are you in town for the convention?”

“Eeyup. Ah got a letter from the Chaircolt of the E.A.C. invitin' me to do a discussion panel,” the word rolled out like a curse.

“Oh really? I suppose then you’ll be town for the next few nights then,” Fleur spoke the obvious. There wasn’t a reason to note she’d be in the panel at the moment, “Would you care to take in a show tomorrow evening?”

Mac smiled as his eyes sparkled, “Ah’d be honored.”

They walked into the Waltrot National. It was late in the evening the main floor was clear of ponies. A part of Mac was thankful for the quiet. He needed time to think. Fleur wouldn’t give it to him as they entered the elevator, “I don’t suppose I could interest you in a nightcap?”

Mac was fairly sure the alcohol was running its course, “Thank ya, but Ah’m a bit tired.”

Fleur smiled again and noted she was doing it a lot that night. It wasn’t the forced kind of expression she was used to, but something genuine, “I understand dear. Perhaps another time?”

Mac nodded as the elevator doors opened. The two ponies walked casually down the hall. They passed by Mac’s room. Fleur took note of that as they approached her room. Fleur worked her key and opened the door, “I shall see you tomorrow, Mac. Thanks again.” She offered her hoof. She was curious about something.

Mac took her hoof and the bait, planting a soft kiss to it, “It was mah pleasure. Sleep well and sweet dreams.” Fleur was beaming inside as she watched the red stallion move towards his room not far from hers. “A gentlecolt indeed.” She silently closed the door, hit the light and fell to the bed.

Indeed, he was a little reserved at first. Once she opened him up, he proved himself to be kind and chivalrous stallion. For Celestia’s sake, he risked himself for somepony he’d never met. Most of all, there was a depth of honesty there she appreciated.

“And that flank...” she softly cooed.

There was a lot to this Macintosh Apple. Her short experience with his sister had been a guide she used to pry him open in honest curiosity. More or less, he was a pony of worth.

Fleur sobered up a bit as that thought struck her, but she didn’t lose her smile. She looked outside to Luna’s moon. Big Mac was going to make for an interesting companion the next few days.

~(0)~

Mac flipped the light switch and removed his yoke, setting it aside. He breathed slow and closed his eyes as he took in the entirety of the evening. It was eventful and, he figured by his measure, he at the very least gained a friend out of it. He looked into the mirror and messed with his mane casually.

“What am Ah doin’,” he spoke and not in reference to his mane. He chuckled a second later though as it didn’t matter. In truth, he felt like a teenage colt again. He lost some of his characteristic reserve tonight and it didn’t bother him.

He moved his form to the bed and thought of Fleur. She was a stunner to look at and a mind to match. She didn’t mind his slip in manners and probably even encouraged it. He’d need to thank her later. She had a certain defiance about her as well. He spotted her little act of vengeance in the park and couldn’t blame her one bit.

“Those eyes..." he spoke to nopony.

Mac felt warm again as he relaxed. There was something there he couldn’t deny. At the very least, he wouldn’t be alone while attending the convention. Stalliongrad was indeed a place he wasn’t familiar with and he never put much stock into legends, but he was wizened enough to know that all legends held some matter of truth. Perhaps he would have to pay more credence to it.

Comments

[TCSNxs]

'sup guys.

This chapter was meant to be included at the end of the previous one. Though when the last one ran long, it kind of became necessary to separate it.

As always, comment and thumbs up if you like.

ONWARD!

[Bronyhood of steel]

great chapter

[derael]

I enjoy what you have so far. The description of Equestrian cities, and their unique characteristics, fits well with what I see with the 3 pony races. The pairing is unique, and I will enjoy seeing how it plays out. I am especially impressed by your characterization of Fancy Pants and Fleur. They are not just airy socialites - they know wtf they are doing. I am a bit wary about the sad and dark tags you have on this. I doubt the scene from chapter 3 is the extent of it, though I can honestly say I cannot predict how things will go.

[TCSNxs]

1450739 Thanks man.

1451734 Thanks. Fancy was always the "Good Guy Greg" of the FIM universe to me, so it made sense. Beyond that, we'll see how it plays out. I don't really want to spoil it, but I've always pictured a place like Stalliongrad as having its own intrigues, though the story is changed a bit after chapter three. We'll see how it goes, though I am planning a few more action scenes. We'll see how it goes though.

[that1dude]

Yes, another excellent chapter! Keep it up!

[HighCutman]

145073
INDEED!!

[makey101]

I'm researching fleur, you did an interesting job. The story is fantastic by the way