Ch. 16 - The Mourning After
The Traveling Tutor and the Librarian
The Mourning After
Proposed Changes to Inheritance Law: To be introduced to Parliament immediately:
Inheritance Law, Section 14, subsection 9B: All forced marriages shall be required to have written permission from the Crown before they are to be considered valid. Arranged marriages are still acceptable, provided both direct parties of the marriage testify under oath that they are agreeing to the marriage of their own free will and without coercion.Subsection 9C: The Crown is not currently accepting any requests for permission for forced marriages, nor is expected to approve any requests in the foreseeable future.
The faint pink light of pre-dawn morning had just barely tinged the sky when the first songbird arrived to perch on Green Grass’ wagon. A few moments later a second one arrived, and then a third in rapid progression until the entire top of the wagon was covered with a living blanket of feathers. In silent array, they watched the horizon until the first ray of sunlight broke free, and only then did they raise their voices in beautiful song.
“…!”⁽*⁾ The owner of the wagon barely twitched, despite the dagger-like pain in his folded down ears. There was a perfectly good bucket of water against the wall, so all he needed to do was to get up, grab it, and soak down those annoying little morning pests. His resolution lasted all the way up to ‘all,’ before it failed in a gruesome mixture of sore muscles and hangover. Perhaps, if he could muster concentration beyond anything he had ever mustered before, he might be able to drag himself over to the bucket and drown himself.
(*) Actual contents censored. It’s for your own good. Honest.
—
Earth ponies normally could outdrink unicorns but that feat would normally wind up in a draw in any drinking contest against pegasi. What the earth pony could exceed in capacity, the pegasus would exceed in the sheer speed they could burn through the booze and be happily chirping about heading out to do it again the next morning. That darned guard had not even wobbled as he flew off into the evening sky on his way back to Canterlot, while it was all Green Grass had been able to do to stagger back to his home, and that involved a bit of searching for where he had been parked for the last few days.
At least the big Germane lug had been friendly, in a kind of psychopathic, murderous way, as he spread his pay around Berry’s bar and its regular inhabitants, mostly lovely young mares and a surprising number of them single. If it would not cause his head to explode in hangover agony, Green Grass would have shuddered at the thought of Shining Armor’s ‘friends’ making Ponyville a regular stop on their bar hopping ways, and of course taking his little sister’s coltfriend along for a little bit of friendly companionship. Every night. Far better to drown in the bucket.
Spa. Crawl to spa at noon. Soak until wrinkly. Drink carrot juice until have to pee. Repeat.
Spike will be over soon. Get up. Set good example for baby dragon. Drink much water. Hydrate.
No. Have dragon chase away birds. Eat ‘em, I don’t care. Sleep.
Get up. Birds belong to one of Twilight’s friends. Ambush. They are ganging up on you again. Warning.
Stay in bed under covers. No work until afternoon anyway. Something familiar about bird’s song. Heard before. Istallian melody.
Can’t sleep. Get up. Get hangover remedy from Carrot Top. Set good example for kiddies. Birds not going away. Wagon smells like brewery. Needs aired out. Need to pee.
Grumble. Can’t argue with pee. Something smells like rotten apples and wasabi. What did I drink last night? And how much?
The music rose into an agonizing crescendo outside, and finally cut off. A moment later when the echoes had finished bouncing around in his head, he whispered to himself, “What was the name of that stupid song?”
“Mattinatta,” slurred a sleepy voice quite near to his ear that made his mane stand on end. “It means ‘in the morning’ in Istallian. Turn it down please, I’m trying to sleep.” An icy wave of fear competed with the warm body draped across his back in a battle of goosepimples and sweat. Green Grass could not decide if he was grateful to have gotten a shower after his disastrous attempt at running the leaves⁽¹⁾ or regretting his decision. At least with a thick coat of sweat-stuck leaves and twigs, he would have had a chance to slip away and make a camouflaged exit. Now he was stuck being a green leaf in a forest of brilliant reds and golds, an easy target for an enraged unicorn.
(1) It seems somepony had covered all the trippable rocks and stumps with leaves, and moved several of the directional signs.
—
A sense of déjà vu swept up Green Grass’ mane and tried to dig into one ear, screaming in fright as the purple unicorn stretched, wrapping legs firmly around him and burying her nose in his mane with a deep, appreciate sniff. “Smells nize.” The wafting smell of apples and wasabi drifted back down to his nose, as well as a slightly chilly and familiar line of drool that trickled down one shoulder.
What does it say when waking up to find the Princess’ student draped over your back is a repeat occurrence? Move? Change jobs? Change names? Although there’s something different about her this time, and it looks familiar.
A quiet feminine hiccup echoed through the wagon, accompanied by an increase in the smell of processed apples.
Oh, that’s it. She’s drunk as a skunk. Why, of all ponies in town, am I the one downhill from Twilight Sparkle when she goes on a bender?
His search for a rational explanation for life was cut short as one delicate purple hoof began to trace its way down his barrel towards his flank, leaving a trail of tingles across his sore muscles and joints. “Wherez my wingz? You gotcha wings? I know they’re here somewhere,” she murmured as her search suddenly got highly personal, and he yelped in surprise.
Twilight yelped too, and both of them yanked back from each other, only in a much slower fashion than the last time they woke in the same bed, probably due to their combined hangovers which could have sunk a battleship.
“Ow!”
“Ahh! My head!”
Ever so slowly, the two opened their bloodshot eyes and squinted at each other in the morning light that filtered in from the high window. For the longest moment, they simply sat and stared in disbelief until Twilight... giggled. It would not have been so bad if it were not a contagious giggle, which tended to flare up into a full-fledged case of the laughs unless suppressed by a wealth of hangover symptoms. Which it was. Mostly.
“You,” announced Green Grass in what would have been a commanding tone if it had risen above a whisper, “are drunk!” He could not help but giggle afterwards too, just like Twilight. Her eyes were dancing with joy, and her whole beautiful face lit up with a blitzed smile. It was powerful enough to cut through his traditional post-drinking binge depression, and totally distracted him from the firepower locked up within that horn with a drunken unicorn playing with the trigger.
“Nope!” giggled Twilight cheerfully in response. “I’m dreaming this allllll up. You’re just a hallcun… hallucy… figment of my imagination.” She broke out in another case of the giggles before lurching forward. Green Grass did not realize he was backing up until the bookshelves caught him painfully in the kidneys and Twilight touched noses with him.
“It’s a beautiful dream. And do you know what I do in my dreams with you?” she asked with half-closed, passionate eyes and a blast of apple-scented morning breath that could have peeled paint.
“Read books?” he ventured hopefully.
“Yesh! Now gimmie Don Rocinante!” Her hooves began earnestly searching him, exploring the unlikely possibility that the earth pony could have managed to hide a hardback book somewhere buried in his thick winter coat, or in a secret compartment in his skin.
Green Grass actually did have a well-concealed secret, known only by his siblings and parents. Ever since he was a young colt, he had extremely sensitive ribs. And underlegs. And neck. And behind the ears, oh that was particularly sensitive. About the only part of him that was not overly sensitive, was his hooves, and even then he winced whenever he had to visit the farrier.
The tutor collapsed on the floor of his wagon, helpless against the purple fiend who ran her hooves over every part of his body⁽²⁾ in a futile search for the thick novel resting in plain view on a nearby shelf.
(2) Except one part, because to Twilight, this was not that kind of dream.
—
“Stop! Hehe! Quit it, Twilight! Please! Oh, not there! No, no, no! Ha! Not the ribs! Eeek! Ears! Ears! Stop! No biting! Eeep!”
* * *
Spike paused outside the shaking wagon, listened for a full minute, and quietly tip-toed away. It sounded like Green Grass and Twilight were busy this morning. Knowing Twilight, she would never give him a direct answer to just exactly what they were doing, so it looked like another brief visit over to the Carousel Boutique was in order before heading home. It made a good excuse to talk to Rarity anyway.
* * *
The valiant knight stood triumphant over the body of her foe, the fiend’s body reduced to quivering putty that gave the occasional giant tremor, resembling a hiccup. The battle had been long and strenuous, but she had showed no mercy in her relentless assault.
“Behold, M’Lady Dulcelestia. I hast slain yon foul beast in your name! Stop twitching, yer slain. Now, I shall claim my just reward for my valiant act. Pucker up, buttercup!” The drunken unicorn descended on the helpless tutor, lips first, coming closer and closer until in a fit of inspiration, Green Grass gasped out, “Intermission!”
“Intermission?” Twilight backed up a step and looked puzzled as her brain fought the alcohol. It lost, being hopelessly outnumbered.
“Yes! Intermission!” gasped Green Grass. “We’re going to have a brief break in tonight’s dream so that we can go to the bathroom and get more popcorn.”
“Oh, yeah. I gotta pee. How long is the intermishhon?”
“Not long at all,” said Green Grass, standing up and gently lowering Twilight to the mattress. “You just lay right there, and count to — um — one hundred thousand by primes. I’ll go feed the projectionist and be right back.” He tucked the blanket over the bleary unicorn and eased his way towards the door. “Start counting.”
“One, two, three, five, seven, nine…”⁽³⁾
(3) This footnote, as well as 9 are prime because of the Odd Prime Number Theorem
—
Every single muscle in his body including his ears screamed in pain as Green Grass hobbled out of the wagon and closed the door quietly. Getting into the wagon traces in the blinding sunlight took four different attempts so he was at least pointed the right way, and then he had to unbuckle himself to remove the chocks from the wheels, and go through the routine all over again. By the time he laboriously dragged his wagon up to the library and backed it up to the front door, his mood had plunged from In Mortal Agony to Suicidal.
One shaky green hoof touched the library front door, just barely loud enough to make a noise.
“Ow,” whimpered Green Grass.
The motion repeated. So did the whimper. Ever so slowly, the impacts of hoof against door increased in intensity to what could possibly be called a knock, while the whimpers turned into soft grunts of internalized pain. Eventually the tutor heard the blessed scratching of draconic talons coming from inside the library.
“Just a minute,” called out Spike as he scurried to answer the door. “Oh, it’s you.” Green Grass’ head was hanging so low all he could see of the little dragon was two little purple feet.
“Spike, is there anypony else in the library?” he whispered.
“No. Not yet. We don’t normally open for an hour. Are you feeling all right? You look just awful.”
“This is really important, Spike. Are there any activities scheduled in the library for the next six hours or so that involve loud noise, curious students, crowds, or any other interaction with Twilight Sparkle? That goes double for Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash.”
“No. Where’s Twilight?” The little dragon sounded concerned, but Green Grass could not look high enough to tell for certain.
“She’s in the wagon, drunk.”
“No, not Twilight. She can’t hold her liquor. She put herself on a one-beer limit at school.”
“Well, right now she’s holding two bottles of Applejack’s finest internally.”
“Oh. Uh-oh. I think I put the bottles you brought on your date into her cocoa mug.”
“It wasn’t a— It’s not your fault. Anypony could have done it. I’ll get her out of the wagon, you open the door, and we’ll slip her inside.” The green tutor staggered up the ramp to his wagon door and wrestled with the uncooperative doorknob. “Twilight? Are you awake?”
“Eighty-six thousand, two hundred and forty-three… um… You made me lose count.” An aggressive wall of purple seemed to lunge out of the darkened interior of his wagon and wrap around his neck affectionately. “Where were we?”
“Intermission,” he whimpered in pain as his weight nearly doubled from her grasp. “Come on, up we goooo…” His voice died out in a soundless hiss as he shrugged Twilight over a shoulder and every leaf-running muscle blasted disapproval. “Come on. Bathroom. Then bed.”
Twilight Sparkle giggled on his back as he hobbled up to the library door. “I don gotta pee no mo. I used the bathroom in yer shaggin waggin. Oh, look. You found Spike. Now it’s a shaggin waggin with draggin.”
Green Grass stopped momentarily in puzzlement. “I don’t have a bath— Eww! Bed then.”
For long moments, he stood at the bottom of the steep staircase leading up to the library second floor bedroom, wrestling with the hopelessness of his task until Twilight dug a hoof into his ribs. “Onward, my trusty companion. The stairs to paradise await, set thy hoof upon them and arise into heaven with the angels.”
“Wow, she’s blitzed,” mumbled Spike.
The drunken unicorn managed to lurch to a half-upright position on Green Grass’ back, almost sending him to the floor screaming in agony if it were not for her beautiful voice raised in song that suddenly nailed his hooves to the steps.
♫ Dulcelestia... Dulcelestia
Once you found a mare
And called her Dulcelestia
When you spoke the name
An angel seemed to whisper
Dulcelestia… Dulcelestia… ♫
He blinked to clear his eyes and found somehow during the song he had miraculously managed to climb the entire staircase. Staggering, he quickly tottered over to her bed and used his last ounce of energy to deposit her carefully on it before collapsing exhausted to one side. Spike pulled her covers up and spared him a sympathetic glance.
“You don’t look well.”
“Not well?” he managed to gasp in practiced reaction to his college drama class. “What is sickness to the body of a knight-errant? What matter wounds? For each time he falls, he will rise again, and woe to the wicked!”
“My hero!” A pair of purple legs reached out from under the covers and snagged him by the neck, drawing him almost into the bed. “More misadventures, M’lord?”
“Urk! Twilight? Air?” Physically driven inspiration suddenly struck. “Igottapee!”
“Pee?” The vice-like grip relaxed measurably. Green Grass did not. In fact, the urgency was even greater now that he was thinking about it.
“Yes, gotta pee. Gotta pee now.”
“Don wanna lose you. Promise you come back. Heh. That’s dirty.” One slightly-damp nose poked into his ear and whispered. “Promise.”
“Eep.” Green Grass struggled successfully to control his bladder. Barely. “K.”
“Pinkie Promise,” breathed Twilight, resulting in another painful willpower spasm by the tutor.
“CrossmyheartandhopetoflyputacupcakeinmyeyenowpleaseletGO?”
“K.” Green Grass wasted no time hobbling downstairs and vanishing into the bathroom for an extended period of time, only to find the angry-looking dragon waiting when he hobbled out.
“I did nothing to your sister that is dishonorable,” started Green Grass before Spike cut him off short.
“I know. I made up the couch for you. Right there.” The little dragon sternly pointed at the library couch, with covers and a warm-looking blanket. “Go back to bed. I’ll see about getting your wagon moved and stick up the ‘Closed’ sign until Twilight recovers.”
“Thanks, Spike.” The tutor painfully edged down onto the couch and relaxed as the little dragon tucked him in. “You sure you’re not wanting to get married?” he asked blearily.
“Naa,” scoffed Spike as he pulled the library window shades down and prepared to go about his new morning tasks. “Twilight already has first dibs on you.” He glanced back to see if his needling had any effect and sighed as the tutor was already snoring. “Poor guy. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into.”
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So long as Green Grass promises to keep this secret from everypony, Twilight Sparkle will be pathetically grateful to him... for life!
Oh my god, they woke up together again.
Good thing Green Grass thinks quickly, I'm not sure he could have held Twilight off except that she is apparently very easily distractable while drunk.
I have a feeling that Pinkie Promise is going to come back to bite him.
1847895
Nah, still taking bets on Twilight murdering him or him being sent into the Sun.
1848615
!
I'll second that bet. 200 Bits on a bloody, painful death for the tutor
This story is a delight to read. Bravo for creating such a believable addition to Ponyville in Green Grass, and such a hilariously awkward set of circumstances for him and Twilight to endure!
Here's hoping she used the bucket, and not a drawer.
Did she widdle on his Thesis notes?
Haha, I knew it. Now the tables have turned, miss Sparkle!
Another "its"/"it's" error! The horror!
> and it’s regular inhabitants
Had to lol at this.
In fact, every time they're suspicious of the others trying to "help", my sides split from the hilarity.
The math nerd in me wants to rage at Twilight for calling 1 and 9 Prime, but that joke is so funny!
One isn't prime. Back to magic kindergarten with you!
She woke up still drunk? Well, yeah, I did, too. XD
Her count is gonna take a while...
http://users.skynet.be/mathema/premiers.htm
Extra “the” here. Also, an extra large space between that and the next paragraph for some reason.
as a lover or regency romances, and comedy romances in general, there are times when I've really wished someone could have forced the two in question into marriage and skipped all the unnecessary Drama.
9479836 How did I miss the the? And got the extra space. There's some sort of bug in Fimfiction that causes some random extra spaces in weird places, but this was an honest extra carriage return. Thanks!
3265029 The sad part is my linked joke went away, and I had to substitute another one in this round of editing.
9647291 Oops.
Well he Pinkie Promised, and that's a binding more powerful than legal!
You bastard.
You are an evil, evil person.
I'm ashamed to admit it, but you got me.