5. Through Cold Dark Waiting Days
05. Through Cold Dark Waiting Days
Thunderous tremorous timorous rumblings falling cascading 'gainst crusted dusty glass, dashing hopes and dreams of splendour and majesty 'neath icy bleak blank and endless never halting swaying billowing bloated—
"Honey, you're rambling again."
Written Script pulled his snout from the window of their private compartment aboard the Friendship Express. After a pause in which to examine his reflection in the chilly glass, he forced a grimacing smile to his face, only to give it up a moment later. He turned to face his wife.
"Sorry. I didn't realise." His foreleg slipped around Golden Harvest's withers, dipping beneath the curls of her sunset-bright mane, and the pair snuggled closer together on the seat.
After a languorous stretch and a sigh, Golden Harvest said: "You should probably write that stuff down instead of just saying it out loud like that."
"Maybe. It just sounds better with a voice behind it. Besides..."
Written Script paused as he felt his wife's body tense beneath his gentle embrace. He turned to look at her and raised an eyebrow.
"You only complain about it when you're nervous," he concluded.
"Nervous? Why would I be nervous? Just because we're travelling alone to Canterlot on a train full of guards when everypony said the trains wouldn't be running for another week, for an audience with a princess who nopony has ever heard of before today?"
As she spoke, Golden Harvest's hoof twirled into her mane, twisting a lock of it into a loop about her fetlock so that cascaded down her leg like a never-ending river of—
"Anyway, you're nervous too. You always get poetic when you're worried about things."
"I don't know what you're talking about," replied Written Script. He settled back against the seat, tugging Golden Harvest along with him until they were cuddled together in the corner.
They remained like that for a while, content to enjoy one another's warmth against the wintry rain that fell outside. Written Script couldn't help find looking out at it, though. The darkness, the wind, and the constant clatter of rain and ice on glass brought to mind the chill night that had so recently gripped Ponyville. The town had fared better than most, thanks to the unswerving dedication of their pegasi, but they had not survived unscathed.
Something tickled at Script's cheek. He rubbed at it with his wrist, and found his coat wet when he pulled it away.
"You see?" Golden Harvest poked him in the rib, then nuzzled closer to his neck and wrapped both her forelegs around his barrel.
"I still think they'll turn up," Written Script said, though there was little conviction in his voice. He pulled his gaze from the window and let his head flop against the seat. "You heard the rumours."
"Ponyville is nothing but rumours these days. All we know for sure is that they disappeared and now the whole town is crawling with Royal Guards. That isn't normal, even for there!" Golden Harvest's grip on Written Script tightened a fraction. "They're looking for something. Or they found something."
Golden Harvest glanced to the window, but if she had expected a flash of lightning or a rumble of thunder, she would have been seriously disappointed. After a moment she sighed and let her head fall back against Written Script's neck.
The warmth of her breath tickled Written Script's coat. He felt her huff and snuffle, and then shift her weight as she peered up at him.
"You'll have to accept it sooner or later, honey. Nopony saw when they left or where they went, and that mare could get herself lost in her own living room. Out there—"
"We don't know anything," Written Script shot back.
Again they fell silent, listening to the rain and the muted rumble and tump of the tracks as the train forged onward. Before long, Written Script found the combination of repetitive noise and the warmth of his wife lulling him to doze. He let his eyes close. Sleep eluded him, however, as each time he fell toward it he found the same image waiting, of a slender grey body in a frozen field, cuddled up around the tiny form of his only daughter.
The jerk of a crossing switch shook him from his near-slumber. Written Script glanced at the window, expecting to see the same endless, dreary darkness of the storm. Instead he was met by a sea of glittering light as their train edged around the mountain toward Canterlot. Pinpricks of light dotted across the plateau behind Canter Peak marked the estates and great homes of the rich and powerful, though as many were black and deserted by their owners as lit. High above it all, clinging to the mountain and lost amongst the clouds, a golden beacon of light shone bright and clear.
He shook Golden Harvest awake and pointed silently at the rain-shrouded palace towering above, but she just snorted and looked away. Her focus had turned to the station as they approached. It too was wreathed in golden light, but apart from a few guards waiting stoically in the pouring rain, the platform was deserted.
Their train leaned to a halt on squealing wheels and protesting brakes, drawing their coach level with the main entrance to the station's ticket hall. Without a word, the pair trotted from their compartment and down the corridor, halting only briefly at the door to survey the world, before stepping out into the rain. Before their hooves even hit the stone platform, a pony in a fine suit was at their side, brandishing an umbrella in his magic to ward off the rain. They crossed the platform in silence. Guards at the door stood still as statues as Written Script and Golden Harvest passed them by.
Within the hall they found a trio of ponies waiting; a mare in a slightly crumpled suit and two stallions in some sort of formal dress uniform. Written Script found his gaze drawn to the insignia slung across their chests on thick bronze chains, of three sunstones glowing with hidden light, set in a polished peytral. The mare was likewise decorated, though her chain was silver twined with gold.
The mare looked at Written Script and Golden Harvest in turn, nodding to herself, and spoke.
"Good afternoon, I am secretary Coconut Cream. Do I address myself to Written Script of the Duchy of Ponyville, sir?"
"Duchy of... um... sure, I guess." Written script nodded and smiled, eager to maintain a positive relationship with the newcomer. "Is this—"
"And to Golden Harvest, also of the Duchy of Ponyville?"
"There's no Duchy of Ponyville," said Golden Harvest. "Ponyville is an incorporated provincial municipality, not some aristocrat's playset. We have elections! And a mayor!"
"Forgive my impertinence, ma'am. I will try to remember that in future," Coconut Cream replied slowly. She flipped through her papers, sniffed quietly and nodded again. "As long as you are Golden Harvest."
"Of course I am! What do I look like, some sort of carrot... top?"
The mare smiled and tucked her papers into a pocket of her suit. "Of course not, ma'am. Now, as you are no doubt aware, you have been summoned to attend to her Excellency the Regent and the Court. We are here to escort you to the palace."
"Regent?" Written Script shuffled up to Coconut Cream's side as they were ushered toward the exit. "I thought we were coming to see the new Princess."
"Indeed not," Coconut Cream huffed. "The Privy Council saw fit to appoint a Regent while preparations were made for the coronation of her Highness. I had assumed you were aware that she has yet to formally take the throne. Again, forgive my impertinence."
Coconut Cream fell silent as they stepped out of the building. Rain pelted the exposed walls, driven by a steady wind that stood little obstacle across the broad plaza beyond the station. A sheltered walkway brought their group to the side of a black coach, hitched to the back of a pair of stallions, who stood dour-faced within the folds of their thick, grey greatcoats. If the rain affected them in any way, they steadfastly refused to acknowledge it.
Their escort fell back to help Golden Harvest into the coach, and followed behind Written Script as he settled himself into the spacious interior compartment. Their guards each tugged a rain cloak from some compartment on the side of the coach as Coconut Cream clambered through the door.
"Aren't they coming with us?" Golden Harvest waved toward the read window, as the coach rocked away from the station.
Coconut Cream raised her eyebrows briefly. "They are more effective an escort if they remain outside."
"Oh."
The chilly silence drew Written Script to cuddle closer to his wife. The two shared a tense look, unable to put words to the question both wanted to ask. After a moment, Golden Harvest shook her head before lowering it to Written Script's side. He mirrored the act a moment later, and turned to look out of the window at the passing city.
Now and again they came across a burned out store or a blocked-off road. Rain obscured most of the view, but it was impossible not to spot the charred shell of the great Royal Opera House as it hove out of the gloom. The three watched in silence as they passed and was lost to the rain.
They were closing on the gates of the palace when Coconut Cream took a sharp, short breath and leaned slightly toward Written Script. Her mouth opened slightly. She hesitated, frowned, and then leaned back again to watch Written Script through narrow, guarded eyes.
The gates were already open, granting the coach easy access to the palace grounds. Scorch marks marred the gilt decoration of the gates and their thick stone posts, and there were places where the wood had been cleaved by blades, or shattered beneath the hooves of an attacker.
"I heard rumours there had been some trouble in Canterlot," Written Script said as the gates fell behind. "I didn't think it'd got this bad."
Coconut Cream nodded, humming her agreement. "It was a period of some... disharmony. How much were you told of what transpired here?"
"Barely anything," Golden Harvest muttered. She lifted her head from Written Script's side to glare at Coconut Cream."The local Guard station declared martial law the day after the sun set and put us all on a curfew, as if that would have made any difference. Did they expect any rational pony to go out in that mess? I thought the world was ending!"
"All we heard was that the Princesses disappeared and that somepony had been found to replace them," Written Script said, while placing a calming hoof on Golden Harvest's side. She grumbled something unrepeatable, but otherwise remained silent.
"You are not aware of her origin?"
Written Script shook his head and gave the Secretary a rueful smile. "Haven't a clue. We've not seen a newspaper for two weeks. Even before the curfew orders, the mail..."
He couldn't go on. Written Script closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with both hooves. In the silence that followed, Coconut Cream leaned toward them again, but before she could speak the coach rattled to a halt and the door was yanked open. A nameless, slender stallion in a grey tunic and a curled wig peered in at them. His face brightened when he saw Coconut Cream, and he stepped back to beckon the trio from the coach.
They stepped out into a sheltered courtyard, one just large enough to fit their coach and another alongside. The escort guard had already departed, a trail of water leading to a door on the far side of the yard the only sign they had ever been there. The drivers were unhitching too, as Written Script and Golden Harvest were ever-so-gently guided toward a grand door, where Coconut Cream and the nameless functionary had paused to discuss what was presumably some important matter of state.
Written Script looked up as they walked. A soaring glass roof covered the yard – or atrium, he supposed. Rain fell upon it like a river, but he could just make out the soaring towers of the palace amidst the wreath of greying cloud.
"—and then she said 'Oatmeal? Are you crazy?' Anyway I—" The functionary's head bounced as he noticed Written Script's approach. "Ah."
"We'll speak about this later, Sandy," said Coconut Cream. She touched his shoulder, just briefly, and turned as the stallion trotted away. Her gaze took in the pair; she pursed her lips and indicated the door. "Follow me please. Her Excellency awaits in the throne room."
Golden Harvest balked. "We're going to see her already? I don't even have a dress!"
"Like you ever cared about that before," Written Script shot back. He grinned in the face of Golden Harvest's silent glare. After a moment her face softened and she looked away, smiling and shaking her head.
They proceeded in silence along a broad corridor, lined with ancient tapestries that hung between slender marble pillars. The ceiling was terrifyingly high, speckled by the light of distant, slender windows set in the upper walls. The combination soon gave Written Script an unaccustomed sense of agoraphobia and claustrophobia all at once.
Soon, they reached a wide hall that ended at a set of stout doors. A few ponies lurked around the edges of the rom, conversing in twos and threes, while a pair of guards stationed either side of the arching doors carefully ignored everything around them in their apparent quest to become statues. Whispered conversations faltered as the trio passed through, and they quickly found themselves on the end of a number of questioning glances.
As they reached the far end of the hall the doors opened, swinging silently on their hinges to admit a single pony. The mare lifted her head high and grinned at Coconut Cream a she passed.
"Good afternoon, Secretary Cream," she intoned. "Lovely weather we're having."
"As you say, my lady Baroness," Coconut replied, with a slight bow of her head. She waited for the mare to depart before turning to her charges, saving a particularly penetrating glare for Golden Harvest. "Please wait here. Do not attempt to enter unannounced. You will be summoned momentarily."
With that she turned and trotted around the corner, leaving the pair alone before the great doors. Written Script could see they had been worked on recently; the crest of Celestia had been torn from the doors, or painted over perhaps; in its place, set in a golden ring, a single, featureless grey-orange sphere was fixed to the centre of each door panel. The same device was fitted everywhere else he looked, though Golden Harvest only snorted in annoyance when he mentioned the fact.
"You'd think they would have waited a bit," she muttered. "It's like they couldn't wait to be rid of her."
Written Script frowned. Before he could form a reply, the doors swung wide once again and Secretary Cream stepped out. How she had found her way into the throne room, Written Script could only guess.
"Her Excellency will see you now," she said, before promptly turning to trot back into the room in a manner that brooked no argument. Written Script and Golden Harvest followed her lead and stepped through the doors.
The throne room echoed with their hoofsteps as they crossed the broad expanse of marble-tiled floor to the throne. Behind, the doors closed with a loud clunk, while ahead Written Script could see a mare in a thick blue cloak casually trotting around the base of the dais to meet them.
"Good afternoon, Secretary Cream." Her bright magenta eyes came to rest on Written Script, and a slight frown creased her brow. "Are these..."
"Written Script and Golden Harvest of Ponyville, your Excellency," Coconut Cream replied, bobbing her head.
"Perfect! I'm so happy you're finally here!" Twilight Sparkle smiled, inclining her horn toward the pair. "Please don't feel like you have to bow, it's not like I'm a princess or anything."
"You're the regent." Golden Harvest's voice was faint, and she wobbled slightly as she spoke. She tipped her head left and then right, before looking around the throne room. Perhaps she was looking for some sign it was all a joke or a dream. Written Script couldn't blame her.
"I know, I know, not bad for a librarian, right?" Twilight smiled again, dipping her head just a little so that her mane fell across her eyes. She seemed unsure of what to say; her words were hesitant as she continued. "I realise it's kind of inconvenient to have you brought out here on such short notice. Rarity told me Ponyville managed to hold off most of the really bad weather while the sun was down, though I can't imagine it was easy. I heard Spike was going around using his fire to keep people warm—oh but listen to me, rambling on. You must be so happy to be here!"
Twilight's grin faltered in the face of their confusion. She looked across at Coconut Cream, then at Written Script again.
"You are happy to be here, right?"
"I don't... really know." Written Script shrugged. "We were told the Princess wanted us. I guess that makes us... um..."
"Honoured," Golden Harvest put in.
"Yes, honoured. Or maybe pleased?"
"If I may," said Coconut Cream. She stepped close to Twilight's side. "It is apparent that Ponyville's garrison commander has been rather zealous in application of the general curfew order. They are unaware of current events."
"But the curfew order was rescinded days ago!"
Twilight glanced at Written Script and smiled nervously before pulling Coconut Cream away to the side of the throne. A conversation of harsh whispers followed, accompanied by repeated swipes of Twilight's hoof against her mane until her forelock was reduced to a ragged mess, until finally she dismissed Cream with a frantic gesture and marched toward the pair.
"I'm really sorry about this, I thought you'd know why you were here." As she spoke, Twilight tried to flatten down her mane with her hoof. Unfortunately her efforts only served to peel more of her forelock up into the air.
Golden Harvest rolled her eyes. "So why are we here?"
"I think it would be best if..." Twilight's eyes fell, just a little. "The Princess can explain this far better than I could. I'll take you to her."
Twilight turned and walked to the rear of the throne room where two arches split the walls behind the throne. One led to a corridor; the other was sealed by a stout door that Twilight quickly tugged open, before ushering the pair through.
A silent corridor stretched away to the distance. Written Script felt his hooves bounce and sink in the thick-piled carpet as they followed Twilight; his eyes were drawn constantly to hangings and tapestries between the windows. Soon they were rising, their path following a gentle curve that grew tighter with each flight of stairs, until Written Script had entirely lost any sense of direction.
As they passed a window, a flicker of light caught Written Script's eye. For the briefest of moments the cloud parted and he saw the lights of Canterlot laid out below. Far, far below. Instinct drove him back from the window. After a moment's hesitation he forced his body forward for another look, but the cloud had moved, obscuring his view once more.
Lightning flickered in the grey blanket beyond the window, answered moments later by a low growl of distant thunder. He was joined by Twilight on one side and Golden Harvest on the other. After a moment the three moved on in silence.
There weren't many places in the palace that could provide such a sight. Written Script looked up at the tall ceilings and the opulent decorations that lined the walls, and shook his head. They had reached a place most ponies would never even dream of visiting. Perhaps this was a dream itself. Perhaps he'd fallen asleep on the train, or they were still at home and snuggled up in bed. Perhaps...
Their path levelled out into a broad, brightly lit corridor that ended against an ornate door, flanked by two very large stallions in golden armour. One of the guards smiled as Twilight approached, his expression twisting the tangle of scars that crossed his face and muzzle. The smile vanished when his eyes came to rest on Written Script, but then he looked away.
The doors opened and Coconut Cream stepped out, smiling broadly. She bowed to Twilight. The pair set to a brief whispered conversation, after which Cream bowed again and trotted away down the corridor.
Twilight turned to the pair and hesitated on the verge of speaking. Her head bowed and she stepped aside, motioning for Written Script to enter the room.
With his eye on the nearest guard, he took a tentative step. When the guards failed to react, Written Script pressed forward through the door, pausing only to check that Golden Harvest was following with him.
An office lay within. It was enormous, probably almost as large as their house – or at least that's how it felt – and furnished to an opulent degree with silk-wrapped cushions, hangings and oversized couches, but it was still an office. There was a desk, smothered in scrolls at one end, and a writing stand near windows.
As they slunk into the room, Written Script and Golden Harvest shared a nervous glance. Neither wished to break the silence. As they reached the centre, though, a door in the far wall creaked open and a trio of ponies stepped out. The most obvious was an alicorn, whose face was partially hidden behind the tresses of her flowing golden mane. Behind her walked another pony, who paused at the sight of them.
Neither really mattered compared to the sight of the third, gamboling between the pair like she owned the whole world. Written Script's legs wobbled and threatened to collapse at the sight of the little filly trotting into the room. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Not even a croak. After a shallow breath he licked his lips, and was about to try again when the filly turned her head toward him. She froze, and her eyes grew wide as the sky.
"Daddy!"
Dinky took a hesitant step. Then, squealing at the top of her lungs, she leaped across the room to collide with Written Script's chest and wrapped her forelegs around his neck.
"Dink?" Written Script looked down at the golden mane flopping against his neck, then at Golden Harvest. "What—I thought they were dead! Oh Dinky, oh sweet Celestia, I thought you were dead! How—"
"H-Honey..."
Written Script looked away from Dinky and toward Golden Harvest. His wife stood still as a statue, with her eyes fixed on the door Dinky had entered from. Her ears had fallen back and her nostrils were flaring over and over again; everything about her body said she wanted to be anywhere but that room.
A quiet cough from the door caught his attention. As his gaze came to rest on the Princess, Written Script felt his throat close up, though it might have been Dinky's grip around his neck tightening a little more. A golden eye stared back at him across a broad smile. Then the alicorn's snout wrinkled, and her forelock fell away from her face as she burst out laughing.
"Oh," said Written Script.
He twitched slightly at the sound of a crumpled thud to his side. When he turned to look, he found that Golden Harvest had fainted.
"Oh dear," said Derpy. "And I thought we were getting along so well these days."
Stats
Page generated in 0.023 seconds
Total duration
679 users online
883,799 hits today, 2,004,447 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
More DeRaptura! It is a good day.
And then Golden Harvest was Dennis the peasant. Or perhaps the old woman. She didn't know they had a Princess. She thought they were an autonomous collective.
In any case, should I assume the herd family structure is in place? Seems like it, and I don't recall whether that's the case for this timeline.
Regardless, I look forward to more, especially when the hapless Ponyvillians regain consciousness. I'm sure there will be hell to pay for whoever's in charge of the Ponyville garrison.
4156736 Mmnope, no herds. I thought about whether to incorporate that, but there are too many things in the story to contradict it already. I'll be dealing with the whys and wherefores in the next chapter.
Um, awkward?
Oh, goody. Not only do they have a duchess now, the new Princess is the last pony these two expected to run anything more complex than a game of contract bridge.
So derpy is Written´s ex?
Anyway, i had kind of lost hope with this history ever being finished.....i can dream again :D, i thank you.
Well this is all sort of awkward, it's not everyday your ex becomes the supreme ruler of the country, well at least he probably doesn't have to pay foal support any more. However, maybe the princess wants to start up a royal harem and he's number one.
Yep, typos. Probably more, but this is the only one that caught my eye:
"mane"
Great to see this story finally update again.
Missing a period.
Bonus comma!
Excellent chapter. Although I have to admit - this one feels almost as if it should be the cold open. Was this part of a side story that got promoted to main story?
4158354 Funny thing, I also caught another one...
And yeah, now you mention it, it does feel kind of that way. Probably the change of tone and the introduction of a new POV character. You've given me an idea though - as if I needed any more ideas for fics...
Well, it's sort of interesting to have those two as the standard-bearers for How Ponyville Will React To Being A Duchy.
It is nice to see this update, and a note to pause on that certainly brings a smile at the end. Along with a good chuckle.
i.imgur.com/6MrWqNZ.png
4522088 woohoo!
4522106
Now; please, do update more than twice per year :P
~Twi
4522112 Yes boss!
4157038
That's a bit of a surprise. I feel like I'm missing out on something here, is there another story that comes before Guiding Light?
4158811
Not well I take it. I can't say as I understand why Celestia would have done such a thing. I guess she wanted to make sure that Derpy's children were secure in the future and simultaneously ensure that they'd have a good chance of remaining with their mother and enough political pull that they wouldn't be kept from seeing her. It would also probably keep someone from trying to get married/related to them super quick in the short term for political power.
Anyway, this story has been a pretty interesting read, even if I feel like Twilight and her issues with all this have been brushed aside far too often considering that it's implied that she's bottling up a lot of feelings. Also, Sparkler (or whoever it was telling her off for being distressed) doesn't seem to realize that, depending on one's headcanon, Twilight lost a mother figure (Celestia), a good friend (Luna), a very close and long term friend and Aunt (Cadence), and her brother (Shining Armor) all in go, basically overnight. I realize that's more about Guiding Light, but this story doesn't seem to address much of that issue either. Not only that, but you could see this as losing her Destiny in some ways. Everything that she's been working towards (even unintentionally) has been thrown askew and the one constant in her life, gone. The nobles whine and complain, but it's more about this having upset the structure of power and their personal lives than the loss of their beneficent ruler for a millenia.
4622484
will come along and get in De Raptura's face about stealing Twlight's dens....destiny. As for having the clumsy mailmare's child suddenly becoming The Boss Of Everything, that's guaranteed to make a lot of ponies in town....miffed. 
Perhaps when the other Five get there, somepony who isn't big on diplomacy or thinking things through
Great story
Finally caught up!
Teehee.
EDIT: Incidentally, this is the 100th fic to get to my Favourites bookshelf.
5376664 wooo
4874383 No. That would have utterly erased all memory of them ever existing and sent the entire timeline down a different path.
5434112 From para- meanig "like" or "above, beyond" and thaum, which is a commonly used term for magical energy in fantasy. Like paramedic or paranormal.
Glad you've enjoyed the fic so far