5 - How Are You?
Often during my three years of exile, I had wondered if I’d ever be able to forget all the things Father had done to me while growing up. Once I left Farrington on Saturday afternoon, I feared how much I already had.
There was evidence, however. The three ragged, parallel lines on my chest were the most notable ones, but I had a lot of other scars. Lebenwedel and spit didn’t do a perfect job of healing, so along my arms, legs, and torso, it was disturbingly easy for me to find physical reminders of my childhood.
Early Saturday afternoon, I found the burn scar on my left leg, the one I had apparently forgotten about. By the time Monday morning came around, I had combed over every inch of my body in a desperate quest to try and find any more scars that I couldn’t remember getting. Thankfully, for every bump and imperfection I found, I could remember when, where, and how I had received it.
I needed something more than that.
At the Citadel, I put on a brave face during morning orders. If Sergeant Scales had any sort of idea how much of a wreck I felt like, he’d probably send me home. And despite my current feelings towards the futility of being a guard, I needed something to keep my mind busy that day.
“So, you’re on nine today...” Sergeant Scales gave me a weak grin. I knew why; patrol route nine was the official number of the route I’d been on when I ran into Starfall’s family, then Starfall. It all felt so distant and long ago; when my sergeant quipped, “Try not to start any more fights?” I could even chuckle a little.
After giving me my patrol, my sergeant took a quick, shifty look around us to see who was listening. Apparently finding no one, he whispered, “Nothing’s official yet, but you might be getting a partner soon. Just FYI.”
I raised an eyebrow. “FYI?”
Sergeant Scales raised a sympathetic eyebrow. “For your information.”
I stared back at him, wanting to remind him that I wasn’t illiterate. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing, though, and he did have to clarify his weird shortening of words that I had never heard phrased that way before, so I simply nodded.
Once I was out on my patrol, I mulled over his warning for a few minutes. Even if it “wasn’t official” now, I knew I’d eventually be getting a patrolling partner. It’d be a huge change for my daily routine, and exploring those ramifications would have been a perfect distraction for worrying about the psychological extent of Father’s lessons.
However, after ten minutes, I had exhausted most of my concerns about getting a partner. Since I still needed something to distract me, I spent the first five hours of my patrol forcing myself to drink in every minute detail of every building in the Market District that I passed.
There was the giant wooden hat—which, given how relatively few ponies in that city wore hats, I wondered how it stayed in business. But the hat building itself looked clean and well-maintained, so the business owner must’ve known something about selling hats.
For the rest of the buildings of Farrington, the main distinguishing factor of each one was the sign that hung over the door. Some of them were obvious, like the quill and parchment over the writing supplies store that I used to frequent. Others had names painted on them, like Suds’ Soap. Other signs were more confusing, like the one with golden lines that flowed away from a tongue of flame. It didn’t have a name, and only when I walked past it and peered through the open doorway did I realize what it was: a candle store.
Lunch came and went quickly; Spotlight was busy that day, but given the whirlwind of thoughts that were still begging at the corners of my mind to come out in the open, I counted it as a small blessing. Yeah, we were friendly, but we weren’t close enough for me to dump my entire history of problems on her.
After my quick, functional meal, I was torn between a feeling of luck and dread. Once I left Farrington, I wouldn’t have to patrol while miserable and conflicted. However, patrolling was a distraction from that miserable conflict, so I didn’t know whether or not I wanted to keep it.
By the time I was on my third-to-last lap around the city, I’d already lost my artificial interest in the buildings of the Market District. Gawking at everything like an idiot twelve times already had a way of doing that to me.
The only exception to that rule was the alleyway near where I had met Starfall’s family—the one he’d thrown me into. That landmark had some personal history to it. Even after I was bored with the rest of my patrol, I kept giving it a wary, regretful glance each time I passed it.
This time was no different, except this time, someone stood against the wall—a navy blue stallion, I noted before my eyes went up to his face. I made eye contact with Starfall in time to see him smirk, push off the wall, and walk over to me on four hooves.
Just what I need, I noted. My day was already running crappy.
However, I also noted that this was technically our first interaction where he might not actually be completely hateful towards me. In the time it took him to get to me and start walking on my right, I let my curiosity take over, at least enough to keep quiet.
After a long silence, just before I was about to tell him to talk or get lost, he asked a very neutral, “How was your weekend?”
I looked at him and tried to gauge what he meant by that; he only shrugged indifferently and clarified, “I’m not being cute. You seemed pretty messed up when you left my house is all.”
I snarled and turned back to the direction we were walking in. Even if he wasn’t being bigoted, he was still a jerk. I didn’t want to play those games. “What do you want?”
“Conversation,” was his simple reply. “Your sneak-apology was well-timed, but Justice needs to learn a thing or two about why ponies work like they do. So, now that I’m not getting punched in the face and yelled at in gibberish, we’ve got some stuff to talk about.”
Gibberish? I questioned. Then, I tried to remember which language I had apologized to him in—or, at least, which one I had ranted at him in. I couldn’t. However, I guessed it was mine, so I seethed, “It’s a language.”
“It’s a language,” he repeated, “that I never learned and, therefore, all the sounds are foreign and indistinguishable to me.” He shook his head. “I mean... would you even teach it to me if I asked?”
“Probably not.”
“Then don’t get mad at me if I don’t understand it.”
As much as I hated being backed into a logical corner, he had a point. If someone had yelled at me in a foreign language, I’d probably call it the same thing—just not to their face, unless they were some sort of jerk. I looked back at Starfall out of the corner of my eye. “So, you think we’ve got things to talk about?”
He nodded. “And one of those things on that list is ‘how are you doing?’ It’s also a decent starting point, too, since that’s how normal ponies begin conversations, right?”
We continued walking down the street while I mulled over his question. I noted his use of “normal ponies,” but considering his usual hatred of griffins, it was probably a term of respect. Probably.
When we got to the end of the street, we turned left onto the half of my patrol that was a loose square of streets that outlined the Market Square. I noted how that place also held significance for me, but then again, that was probably why Starfall had been waiting in the alley for me.
That reminded me of his original question about my well-being; finally, dejectedly, I answered it. “I mean, you’re the one who’s asking me how I am. That a good enough answer?”
Starfall grunted, but it took us until we took a right turn to keep near the Market Square. On the new street, he found his next question. “What did you scream at me about?”
With a shake of my head, I told enough of the truth: “Nothing important.”
“Bullshit.”
I chuckled at the severity of his response, but then I thought about his question I had blown off. Yeah, he was asking about personal stuff that was none of his business... but at the same time, he was one of the few who even had an idea about it. I continued musing aloud, “You know, it’s weird how you’re one of the three ponies in this city who even knows about me and my father.” I shrugged. “The short version is that he shoved me into a fire to teach me about...” I waved a gauntlet in front of my face and shook my head. “Something or other. The main thing that freaked me out was how I completely forgot about it until I shouted it at you.”
Starfall cocked his head to focus on me. “What, like a repressed memory?”
I wasn’t familiar with the term, but it seemed to fit. “I guess.” Since he apparently knew something on the matter, I added, “But if there’s one...”
“There might be more.” He nodded in agreement. Then, he blew a gust of air out of his mouth and made far too big a show about looking at the back half of me. “So, what, did he...”
I snapped my head to him. “No! And... that’s none of your business!”
He pointed a hoof at me. “Not true.”
“Why would that ever be your business?” I shook my head vigorously. “And since when do you even—”
“I care...” he began loudly. At the same time, we noticed how a few ponies in the street were staring at us. Starfall lowered his hoof back to the road and turned his head to face straight before continuing in a quieter, neutral tone. “But you’re right, not directly about you. My friend wants closure from whatever you two had, so if that comes from telling him you’re too broken to bother with, then I’ve done my good deed for the month.”
His words hit hard and low. I threw back, “Yeah, that’s you all right. I’ve seen you talk at your wife.”
He scoffed before shooting back, “If you’ve got huge problems, you need a therapist, not a boyfriend.” I tried to retort, but he spoke over me: “Iron’s more patient than anyone I know, but you can’t expect him to balance being your boss, mental health expert, and respect you as an equal partner through all that. That’s not fair to him and unrealistic for you.”
I thought about his blunt advice for a few moments. We took another right turn, meaning we were now headed south and past the “halfway” point of my patrol. No matter how far I went into it, I kept getting hung up on why Starfall was talking to me in the first place. “So, what, are you telling me to keep away from Iron? Because I don’t—”
“Of course you don’t,” he condescended. “I mean, why handle things in an adult manner when you can just take the easy way out?” I glared at him for a few seconds before he glanced back. Then, he shrugged and said, “So, what, I’m a hypocrite and that lets you get away with what you did to Iron?”
I pointed a finger at my chestplate. “What I did to Iron? What about what he did to me? Kicking me out—”
“Why do you think he did that?”
My mouth flew open to give the easy answer, but then I looked down and realized I didn’t have one. Or at least, the answer I had still wasn’t easy to say. “Because... because he knows everything I’ve been through, but he’d still prefer throwing me out of a city instead of trying to fix stuff.”
Starfall choked on his answer. “That’s... not really it, though. Like, if you take it personally, that’s one way of interpreting it. Really, he just panicked because of our...” He waved a hoof between us. “You know. But the main thing is, he went out on a limb for you, and you let him down.”
“Because of you,” I pointed out.
“Because of me,” he admitted. “And I’m not trying to say who’s right or who’s wrong between you or Iron, or if you two dating is a good idea. You have a lot of issues to work out, and I’m sure he’d be willing to help, but the whole thing still sounds like a bad idea to me. The thing that does involve me is how I made that decision for the two of you, and that’s not doing right by my friend.”
I glanced over at him. “So, what, you want me to start dating your friend again because you feel guilty?”
Starfall shook his head. “I’m not asking for anything that big, or anything you shouldn’t have done in the first place. Just go visit him, tonight after your shift, and actually talk about things.”
I focused back on the road, made sure no one was breaking the law, then thought about Starfall’s request. It wasn’t that big, and I had thought about doing it... but then, it always came back to why we broke up in the first place. I looked at the reason, walking on my right, then asked, “And what if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll go talk to him and tell him my version of why you’re not going to.”
My stomach wrenched when his threat echoed inside me, and I realized he was giving me an ultimatum: talk to Iron now, or never.
The latter option scared me.
I was confused as to why. I’d been planning on leaving Farrington for almost every day for four weeks. Every time it came to Iron, I always came to the simple solution of just leaving him behind with his stupid city.
Even after I worked it out that I could probably undo anything Starfall could say to Iron, the fear of completely losing him lingered. After all, I had avoided him for four weeks, but that was my choice...
I shook my head. If Starfall was coming to me in order to be some sort of voice of reason, then I knew I’d lost some ground in the realm of my own righteousness...
I let it all out in a sigh. “Fine. I’ll talk to him.”
Starfall didn’t make any sound of agreement, and I didn’t want to look at him to see him smirking in a self-pleased manner. After a few more turns along my patrol, he finally broke the silence: “So, what does it mean for you to ‘coexist’ with someone?”
I flicked a gaze at him. “Probably to exist, at the same time, and not bother each other?”
“And is that where we stand?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re the one finding me on my patrol...”
He chuckled. “Right, but that’s more necessity than intention to do you harm. But what would you say if this sort of thing were more... scheduled?”
“What, you want to make Monday afternoon patrolling a ‘thing?’”
“No, but our lieutenant might.”
I stopped in my tracks; then it all clicked for me. “Wait, you’re my new...” I shook my head. I didn’t like the idea, but it probably made sense in some stupid planning way. I shrugged; it was out of my control, at least until I was able to quit. I took a little comfort in how he seemed to be a bit less... violent, now.
“Nothing’s official,” Starfall reassured, “and Iron might’ve just been making a test point. Either way, we’ll find out for sure next week.”
“Hooray,” I seethed.
He gave a cocky little scoff-chuckle, but either way, our conversation came to an end. A few moments later, we passed the other entrance to the alley that Starfall had been waiting in earlier. He turned to walk down it, but my patrol kept me heading straight.
After he was gone, I dwelled on our conversation and what it meant for me. I was almost done with my patrol lap, which would only leave two more—roughly an hour until the end of my shift. I didn’t have reading that night, so I didn’t have any good reason to stay in the city instead of leaving early...
However, my conversation with Starfall had shown me that avoiding Iron wasn’t solving anything. Now, when I tried to justify it by remembering how he threw me out of the city, I remembered that I’d done something similar to him by throwing him out of my life.
The more I thought about it, the more I knew we needed to talk. Also, I had agreed to a deadline of today; I didn’t want to deal with the hassle if Starfall spoke to Iron on my behalf.
With a shrug, I turned onto the second-to-last lap of my patrol. I had an hour left on my shift, which would be plenty of time to think about everything we’d need to speak about.
* * *
An hour later, I sat, hunched over in the southern archway—out of sight of Iron—and realized that I still didn’t know how I was going to start our conversation.
While I sat there immobilized by uncertainty, I thought of ways to get around me starting the conversation. I could send a letter, or ask one of his friends to pass on a message. Hell, even easier: if I sat where I did for another half hour or so, he’d come out of his booth, find me, and then...
And then was the conversation I wasn’t sure if I wanted to have. I didn’t want Iron to be anything other than a jerk who threw me away because he was a selfish asshole. I closed my eyes and sat up tall, then kept going. When I craned my neck back, a metallic rapping deafened me as the back of my neck throbbed in protest.
Ow! I internalized the scream, then I opened my eyes to look at the uneven ceiling of the archway. I had to suppress a chuckle. I couldn’t even sit right, let alone think, or talk. Today had been stressful—an unpleasant flavor added to what was becoming my usual bored routine.
Is anything going to go right today? Or... this month, even?
The door on my left opened. Then, out walked Captain Iron Bulwark.
Mentally, I wanted to stab whatever malevolent forces were in charge of running my life. Regardless of whatever deity I had inadvertently pissed off at some point or other, Iron and I stared at each other for a few moments. I had just spent an hour planning what I’d say to him, and preparing for the emotion I’d feel when I saw him. Now it was happening, I drew a blank on both accounts.
More specifically, I was being pulled every which way. I wanted to jump at him and hug him, crying into his shoulder and begging forgiveness while my other hand strangled him with the fury I felt because for some stupid reason, I’d let him hurt me.
I stayed still, not because I didn’t think any of those were terribly bad ideas; I just didn’t know if any of them were worth doing.
For his part, Iron did a double take, raised an eyebrow, and cocked his head to the side. “Do...” He blinked several times before he set his face straight again. “Are you all right?”
I shook my head.
Then, I tried looking away, but the toll of everything just caught up with me. Apologies, conversations, accusations, being stuck in a city, being hated for something Father did ten years ago... it all made my throat clamp shut, and I got out one wheezing gasp before I just broke down crying in front of Iron.
I hated myself in every tear for doing that, when we were supposed to just have a normal conversation. Then, I realized that talking about all my problems was a normal conversation for us, and then I remembered Starfall’s offhanded remarks about being broken, and I... I couldn’t stop.
Iron's large, metallic mass sat down next to me. He pulled me into an embrace, and I was too stupid to keep from burrowing my cheek into his neck. I felt the strap on my right gauntlet being undone; it was off my hand before I could tell him to stop. I slid my head down to his chest, Iron pulled me closer by wrapping his right foreleg under my wings, and he began gently stroking the top of my right forearm. With his other hoof, Iron caressed my now-exposed hand.
He rested his chin on the side of my helmet and whispered, “I’m so sorry,” into my ear. “I don’t know what I was thinking that night, but I should have trusted you.”
I shook my head—something made more difficult by having Iron and my helmet clamping it in place—and found some words. “It... it’s not you. I screwed up too.”
“Okay,” he agreed.
We stayed together like that for a little while longer, but the more I half-lay on him, the guiltier a pleasure it became. After a month apart, after how he’d treated me, after how I’d treated him...
I sat back up. He let go of me.
It’d been good while it lasted.
Iron handed me back my gauntlet, and I grinned thankfully at as I took it. Before I put it on, I wiped my eyes with my unarmed palm; the feathers on my arm were still moist with sweat and city dust from the day’s patrol.
I put my gauntlet back on, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Iron doing the same for his captain’s boots. It made me smile a little, but then I remembered what I was there for. I scooted away from him a little, and then a heavy silence fell back over us.
“So... how have you been?”
His question was simple, but the answer wasn’t. I settled on giving him a sideways glance and saying, “I guess I’ve been better.” He raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but didn’t say anything, so I went on, “I mean, I’m stuck in this city, so I can’t make mid-summer preparations for my cave, which means it’s even less secure there than usual...” I shook my head. “If I move here, there goes any freedom I thought I had. Then, there’s the usual stuff with my childhood, except now I’m forgetting parts of that, which isn’t as good as it sounds...”
I looked at Iron and finished, “Then, there’s you. The Guard. All my punishments and apologies and ponies that keep coming out of alleys to talk to me.”
Iron’s eye widened. “What?”
“Your friends,” I clarified. “Last Monday, it was Sherry. Today, Starfall.”
He turned his head and frowned. “Are you accusing me—”
“No.” I turned to look at him head on. “Just saying that a lot of what happened to me over the last month involves you.” He started to protest so I added, “Not directly. Not all of it.”
Iron nodded. “It’s good you see it that way, then. Because I’m not sure if I should be held accountable for my part in a system whose rules you broke.”
I countered, “It’s not that you did it, it’s how you did it.”
“And I’ve apologized,” he replied with a hint of heat. “Twice, technically, in the last twenty minutes we’ve spent together.” He shook his head. “I mean, I don’t know what more I can do. Do ‘I’m sorry?’”
I tilted my head slightly at his words.
“It’s... one of Sherry’s phrases,” he noted. “And I’d love a chance to make it up to you. But I can’t do anything if you keep avoiding me.”
“Well... it hurts.” I turned away to look at the opposite wall of the archway. “So sorry if I’m not really keen on going back to a situation where it happens again.”
Iron’s blurry outline turned its head in my peripheral vision. “So, what does that mean for us?”
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “I mean, I like you. But I’m not sure how, why, or if I should.” I shrugged. “And I’m not sure how fair it is to say, ‘Let’s start doing what we used to, except now, it’s looming over us that the whole thing might turn out to be a disaster.’”
Next to me, Iron choked on a laugh. I smiled weakly at it. “Okay, less of a disaster, but more of a...” I made circles with a gauntlet trying to find the word. “Finding out we’re not into each other like that?”
“So... basically... what it was that we were doing in the first place?” He paused. “I mean, there’s a reason it’s called dating, and not ‘move in and start a life together after knowing each other for a week.’”
“Yeah, it’s too many words.”
Iron chuckled. “Yes... greeting cards would have to use smaller lettering.” After a moment, he sighed. “But I don’t want to force you into anything you don’t want. However, I also don’t want it hanging over us that this is over because of one colossal mistake for each of us that both of us have learned from.”
I nodded slowly and started thinking about what he said. I guessed that, all things considered, we did only have a few dates together before Starfall, in his words, “Made that choice for us.”
Then I sighed. “I dunno. I mean, I do and I don’t, you know?” I turned to him, he met my gaze with a blank stare, and I realized he didn’t. “Like... being with you is good. But at the same time, this past month, all I’ve been thinking about is moving on from this city.” His mouth twitched down at that. “I mean, it’s not your fault. Kinda the opposite: without you, I don’t have anything in this city—except a lot of prejudice against griffins.” I shrugged. “When I visited Dash, one of her friends didn’t even know what a griffin was. Maybe I’d find it easier in a city like that.”
“Perhaps you would,” Iron agreed.
“Perhaps,” I repeated his word. “But that’s if I ever get enough money to leave this city, which, I know what I make, what apartments cost, and when did that become my life?”
I let the question fall on the air; like every time I asked it, I wasn’t really asking anyone in particular. This time, Iron was with me, so I got a reply. “Do you like living in...” He looked over his shoulder and gestured to the south. “Your forest?”
“Not always,” I admitted, and Iron turned back to listen to me. “It’s harsh and uncaring, and chances are high that something there will kill me. Kind of like Farrington. But at the same time, in the Jägerwald, there’s something... good about how alive and natural everything is. I’ve been to the parks here...” I paused, remembering my ten-second trip through the one in the Artisan District. “Briefly. I’m not sure if those would do it for me.”
“But you could appreciate the trees and flowers without a risk of immediate death,” Iron reasoned. “And that’s to say nothing about being able to visit the, uh... Yaygwald...”
“Jägerwald,” I corrected.
“Jägerwald,” he repeated. I nodded. “But yes. If you were to give Farrington a chance, it would be safer without much loss except for isolation.”
“Just more expensive,” I countered.
“There are several housing complexes that offer discounted rates to guards,” Iron noted. “And I would help you through the work-arounds since you’re not a citizen. And even then...” He shook his head slightly. “I could help with things. Financially.”
“You don’t have to do that...”
“The hell I don’t,” he said. “I brought you to this city, and—however indirectly—that created a situation that’s making it difficult for you to leave. I want you to get better from your past. If that means you’ve got to save up to move to another city, then I’ll certainly be sad to see you leave, but... I’d be happy for you, too.”
At his words, another lump of emotion welled up in my throat. For a moment, I thought I was going to break down crying again, but I held it together. “I... I’ll think about it.” I honestly meant it.
Iron nodded, apparently satisfied. “For the time being... some of the traveler’s supplies stores offer various types of animal repellant. Unless there’s something else you were preparing for summer?”
I shook my head and chuckled over how simple his solution was—or rather, how I’d completely overlooked buying something to solve my problem. “No... that’s mostly what I’ve been worried about.”
“Mostly?”
“I’ll figure the rest out.” Starfall’s advice came back to the front of my mind, and I realized why I didn’t want to rely on Iron to fix all of my problems. “But for now... where are we at?”
Iron shrugged. “We’re at wherever you want us to be.”
In the distance, the clock tower struck six. It was late in the day, and given how tired I was—and how the rest of the day had gone—I didn’t want to make any long-term decisions right here, on the spot. At the same time, I felt bad for making Iron wait for a month... and with everything else he’d done for me, I figured a safe answer would be better than no answer:
“Do you want to get dinner on Thursday?”
He smiled and nodded. Then, he asked, “But... dinner as friends, or... as we were?”
I sighed. “For now... let’s just take it slow.”
“So... friends?” he asked.
“Friends,” I agreed.
“Friends.” Sherry bit the word off with a glare.
I frowned back. When Gilda had come visited me at the gate—or rather, when I found her there after investigating an odd sound—it had come as something of a surprise. As soon as it had been apparent that she was having trouble, though, I remembered exactly how much I cared about her. The terms for continuing our relationship were lukewarm at best, but given how things had been between us for the past month, “friends” was better than nothing.
Or so I had thought; as soon as I broke the news to Sherry that things were beginning to heal... well, she was still glaring at me. I defended myself with, “Friends. It’s what she’s comfortable with, so for now, I’m content—”
“To pussy-hoof around like a little filly.” She rapidly shook her head. “Do you even know what my past month was like?”
I pointed a hoof at her. “And I’m incredibly grateful for what you did, but...” Her head kept shaking until I dwindled down to silence.
“I ‘fixed’ everything for you, Iron. It wasn’t cheap. It wasn’t easy. And it probably wasn’t ethical. But the first word of thanks I hear from you is right now, after you’ve gone limp at the last second?”
“Starfall and I just made up on Saturday—”
“Which you were talking about all last week.”
Which I had been... I shook my head slowly. Between Guard business and the personal fallout from Gilda’s and Starfall’s duel earlier this month, I had overlooked some of the important, quieter things—like the friend who had helped me through most of the ordeal. “I’m sorry, Sherry. I got caught up in...”
She produced a small metal flask from below her counter, unscrewed it, and belted down three large gulps. Through the whole thing, Sherry didn’t take her glare off me; I could see her eyes soften as she replaced the cap and mused, “One for victory, two for defeat.”
I tried to blink the shock out of my gaze. “Are you...” I lowered my voice in case the wall-watcher above us could hear. “Drinking during your shift? In front of me?”
“Yep,” she answered flatly. “I may be bitchy when I’m buzzed, but you won’t like me when I’m sober.”
I hated the truth in those words, especially the implications. She did have a dependency, and she probably snuck small, medicinal doses of alcohol during every shift. Regardless of the truth, I was her captain, so there were some things I needed to address—like contemptuous drinking in front of me.
I stuck out my hoof and demanded, “That’s enough for one shift.”
“Yes, sir.” She hooved the flask over to me.
My immediate reaction was to chastise her... warped insubordination; then I realized that all she had done was address me by my formal title. I shook my head. “I’ll take my lunch at home tomorrow so you can come get this—” I shook the flask. “—when we’re both off-duty.”
She chuckled. “Keep it. Five birthdays and Hearth’s Warmings, with underlings and acquaintances that only know one part of my life? I think I can make do with the other ten or so in my broom closet.”
I fought not to smile at the unfortunate, accidental enabling of others. When I realized I was actively enabling her habit, a blank expression easily found its way across my face.
Instead of dwelling on that, I went back to the source of today’s problem. “Even though it’s late, thank you for all that you’ve done. But I’m not going to add ‘forced into a relationship’ to Gilda’s list of problems.”
Sherry bared her teeth in a grin and closed her eyes. “She’s too young, stupid, and broken to know what she wants.” Her eyes snapped open. “But then again, so are you.”
The insult scathed, but I had to admit there was some truth to it. I knew Farrington and I knew restaurants, but the personal side of things was still fairly new to me. I only responded with, “Perhaps. But what if she is too young for a relationship? Maybe we should wait as friends...”
My question earned a flat, mirthless stare from Sherry. Instead of speaking, she glanced upwards, then beckoned me to come closer.
I leaned into her booth, and pain shot up my nose as she swatted it with a rolled-up copy of the Farrington Times. I recoiled, and she chastised, “Bad Iron. No grooming pre-teens until they’re seventeen—”
I rubbed my nose and tried to keep the irritation out of my voice. “She’s more than legally old enough, it’s just...”
“You’re afraid of her,” Sherry leveled.
“No I’m not...” I put my hoof down from my face. “I mean, there’s the physical end of things that will probably require some delicacy—”
“So practice tonguing a knife and buy her some bed gloves.” Sherry raised one shoulder. “If there’s one thing about ‘griffins’ and ‘physical,’ delicate is not the word. I mean, I couldn’t walk right for a week after...”
Her eyes shot wide as she stopped mid-sentence and I asked, “What?”
Her face returned to its natural, slightly smug demeanor. “Ancient history from before you were born. But we were talking about you being afraid of Gilda, and how you’re using that as an excuse to throw away my favor I did for you.”
I stood there blinking for a few moments as I tried to wrap my head around everything she had just said. Finding it impossible, I eventually decided to cut through her accusations. “What Gilda needs now is some stability in her life, and assurance that she’s got a choice in her life’s direction. I’m not going to take that away from her for your sake, Sherry. If you say that’s ‘throwing away your favor,’ then I’m sorry, but this is what’s best for her.”
Sherry shook her head. “Keep telling yourself that.” She huffed a scoff over my retort and continued, “Ponies always come to me for relationship advice, and sometimes, they even manage to keep from screwing things up. But no one ever stops and appreciates what they’ve got, or how lucky they are...”
“This isn’t that,” I cut in. I knew better than to take my relationship with Gilda for granted, especially in front of Sherry. “I swear it.”
A smile spread across her face, haunted with grief; then she locked cold, calculating eyes on me. “We’ll see, Iron. We’ll see.”
Monday evening, I made a fun discovery: Manticore repellant was also griffin repellant. Or at least, growing up, if I had ever smelled something so terrifyingly evil, I probably would have run screaming to warn the rest of my tribe about a smelly demon in the Jägerwald.
That was saying something, too. Of all our senses, smell was easily the weakest one. So when I found it hard to think when I was inside my cave due to the repellant—which I had sprayed as far away from the mouth of my cave as I thought was safe—I knew that my purchase from the Market District was potent. Or deadly.
By seven-thirty, I was getting used to the smell, which bothered me on a few levels. It was one thing to be aware of a problem, but it was another when the problem became a new baseline. Ironically, that musing about the effects of my first purchase in Farrington led me back to the reason for my other purchase.
Still, I’d visited the writing supplies store. I wanted to keep track of everything that Father had done to me while growing up, and as soon as I saw the familiar sign in the Market District, the answer seemed all too obvious. I had found a cheap little diary that I guessed would be thick enough—I only had to keep track of roughly a decade, or a hundred and twenty months—but when it came to bottles of ink, they only sold them in bundles of such ridiculous quantity that it was slightly more reasonable, in my mind, to buy an “ink and quill” set for fifty bits.
All in all, I spent over a quarter of two weeks’ wages in the Market District that day. By that time, it had been after six o’ clock, shops were closing, and I didn’t even care.
Now, at seven-thirty, before I put my all-too-familiar quill to the diary to start writing Gildas Tagebuch—my tribe was never very original with naming things, so I didn’t really find a reason to break that tradition—I took a moment to think about what I was doing.
In my tribe, writing was a huge deal. Some of the griffins there couldn’t even do it, which made for an interesting division that...
Well, no one really went out of their way to talk to one another there, anyway. We had our cave, the other families had theirs, and until it came time to gather supplies for winter, we were pretty much content to keep like that.
Regardless of the silent controversy that surrounded it, writing was one of the more permanent actions that few of us knew how to do and even fewer actively did. However, all it took was a trip to the Records Keeper’s cave to see how powerful a tool it was. In one afternoon, one could read about the life of someone who lived centuries ago, then go back to creation legends that started at the beginning of time, and then top the whole thing off with reading the law tribunals to see who had been accused of what in the past year.
One way or another, someone had to write those things.
I paused and realized that, as I was about to plunge one of my feathers into the leaves of an Equestrian book, there was a chance that I was about to immortalize both myself and my father. It was scary to think about who, or what, might come across this little book. Would they hold it to any level of significance? Probably not. But if they did, what would they think of it? Was I prepared to tell future generations about my father?
With a shake of my head, I started writing and decided to keep names to a minimum. I didn’t have to write out a story—more of a schedule of all the things he did to me.
Even then, it was rough.
For starters, my memories sort of blurred together into a series of images and voices rather than a chronological list of events. That meant I couldn’t just pick a date in the past and start going forward from there; I had to remember things based on their relation to other events. I started off not with a list, but a web of injuries; as I progressed, the holes began to grow smaller and smaller.
That wasn’t to say progress was fast, though. Every ten minutes or so, the recollections became too much and I had to stop to clear my head. During one such break, I stretched my right arm out, behind me, and noted that it was easy to see how the bone hadn’t healed straight. That reminded me of the winter morning when Father had done it, and despite the mid-summer’s humidity, I felt a chill run down my spine as I remembered that day.
Over an hour later, it was too dark in my cave to write anymore. I was definitely done for the day, but I was nowhere near done with Gildas Tagebuch.
Still, for the first time since Saturday, I found it easier to go to sleep.
Similarly, my patrol on Tuesday went a lot smoother. Despite the awkward encounter at the gate where I asked Iron to “smell me” to make sure I didn’t reek of manticore repellant—I didn’t, but I still decided to start stashing my armor in a locker overnight until the Jägerwald calmed down—our little banter was a much-welcomed readdition to my morning routine.
When I got back to my cave, everything seemed in order, so I got an hour’s head start on chronicling compared to Monday. It helped, too; after Tuesday night, even though I had reading after my shift on Wednesday, once I got home from the hospital, I added four more things to my journal and called it “done.”
I’d spent my entire Wednesday flight home wracking my brain, and I still couldn’t come up with any new additions. Plus, there were only two long-ish gaps in my journal that seemed to coincide with a small sense of security: one after Father had caught me reading in the Records Keeper’s, and one after he’d caught me throwing rocks for fun. He encouraged those actions, and I avoided his usual wrath for almost two months at a time.
But even those respites ended.
When I was finished writing, I picked up the journal and took a small flight to the western face of my mountain. It was lighter on that side, since the sun was setting on in front of me; it made it easier to read over my account of everything that Father did to me.
With my facts laid out straight in front of me, in chronological order, I started to think about Father in a much more... functional manner. But I couldn’t find any pattern to his “lessons,” nor did I think I would. Like I’d always suspected, they were just pain.
Luckily, I now had a mostly complete list of pain—I didn’t think Gerard was worth adding to this ordeal, and siblings normally fought. Given the sheer number of new things that I had remembered during the three-day endeavor, I felt a lot more confident in knowing that there weren’t any big surprises hiding in the shadows of my mind.
That serenity only filled me with a new source of uncertainty. I knew what Father had done. I knew how, when, where, and to whom... But that wasn’t enough.
The last question that I had, the one that had burned inside me for fourteen years—since the first incident—the only question I wanted an answer to, I drew a blank for:
Why?
It was so easy a question, with simple conditions that weren't being fulfilled. Parents were supposed to nurture, not hurt. It was a simple biological drive to make sure the next generation had the best chance to survive.
So why? Why had I been different, been singled out? We had all known to stay out of his way when he was in his home, but unless I was missing something huge, none of my other siblings had gotten it nearly as badly as I had from him.
So why me? It came as an almost new realization, but I was so used to the physical damage and pain that I rarely stopped to question why he let it happen on an emotional level.
For the first time that I could remember, I wondered why he couldn’t love me.
What was so wrong with me that, when I had been only three, I’d been thrown at a wall to “get out of his way?” What could I have possibly done to upset him?
I pondered those questions for a long time, even after the sun had gone down. Finally, when I felt myself nodding off to sleep, I went back to my cave. Trying to figure out his motives was a fool’s quest, I realized.
The only griffin who knew why Father did what he did was Father himself.
I stroked my chest and remembered that I’d never get a chance to ask him. It was... liberating, almost, even if it came with limitations of knowledge.
However, I was content to start looking for answers elsewhere. And even if there weren’t any answers, for the first time in a while, I took a small ounce of comfort in knowing that I had friends—or at least one friend—who would at least make an effort to help me cope with everything.
I didn’t like how that made me reliant on Iron like that, and I remembered Starfall’s advice. As I nestled down on my blanket to go to sleep, I realized one thing: tomorrow’s dinner wasn’t going to be a simple thing. At least I’d have a relatively clear-headed patrol to mull over everything that I needed to talk to Iron about:
Me, him, and us.
Thursday night, after my shift, I was filled with anticipation over my dinner with Gilda. Despite my constant self-reminders over the week that this was our first step towards repairing things between us, I was still nervous that things might go wrong between her and me.
They did that, often, for us.
When I got home, Maxie was lying on her couch and reading a paperback novel. I didn’t quite remember when she started reading books with paragraphs instead of panels, but I didn’t quite wish to ask her about it, either. If she were trying something new, I more than approved.
As I began taking my armor off, I greeted her. “Hi Maxie.”
She looked up and smiled. “Hi yourself. Ready for the big night?”
Strange as it was to hear her speaking plainly about my dating life, I had learned it was a much better alternative to keeping it a secret from her. That had been my logic on Monday when I spoke to her about it; while I saw the disgust on her face, she at least chose her words well during that conversation.
Now, she was smiling about it, which either meant she was finally accepting the idea or that this was the start of another complex. I sincerely hoped it was the former, so I replied, “Yeah. I’m a little nervous, mostly because...”
“It’s been a long month?”
I nodded. “It’s been a long month.”
Maxie shrugged and said, “Well... I’m sure it’ll turn out okay.”
I thanked her, then I finished taking off my armor and headed to the bathroom. There wasn’t much I could prepare for that could affect the outcome of this evening; other than worrying about it, the best thing I could do was take care of my hygiene. Even if Gilda apparently lacked a strong sense of smell, I would feel better if I started out fresh and clean for dinner.
Five cold, breath-sapping minutes later, I dried off, brushed my teeth, and noted that I was probably a few days overdue for a manecut. It wasn’t anything worth the trouble of borrowing my sister’s brush over, so I exited the bathroom, and headed left to the living room.
When I got to our front door, I turned and waved to Maxie. “Enjoy your evening, and your novel.”
She looked up and gave me one last reassuring smile. “Good luck.”
Her well-wishing lasted me through most of the Residential District, until I came to the main drag and turned south. Even as far away as I was, I could already see Gilda was waiting for me like usual. I couldn’t make out her face, but I had known her long enough to know what her vacant, lost-in-thought expression looked like.
As I drew nearer, my hypothesis was confirmed, but any smile I might’ve had from being right was dampened by the fact that she was probably thinking about us. It made me nervous, but combined with Maxie’s wish of “good luck,” it also made me hopeful.
When I reached Gilda, I waved and greeted, “Good evening.”
She blinked and her visible eye turned to me. A faint smile appeared at the corner of her beak, and she said, “Hey.”
“Ready to go?”
She nodded, then stood up and walked over to me. “So, uh... where to tonight?”
Instantly, I remembered the game of guessing where Gilda would hate to eat the least. No dairy, no artificial meats... The back of my mind joked about frying some cat food, then the front of my mind realized that probably wasn’t the worst idea ever, but finally I deflected, “Well... where do you get your lunches?”
“Diner,” she replied. “Want to do that?”
I nodded; what we ate was far less important than the fact that we were eating together.
We made small talk while Gilda led me into the northern portion of the Business District, near the intersection of the main two roads. When we reached her diner, I grinned; one way or another, she had found one of the best-valued lunch stops in the city. Many guards in the Business and Market Districts ate there for lunch; not only was it well-positioned, but the service there was usually fast enough to enjoy a meal rather than inhaling it.
After we sat down and ordered our waters, I pressed a more difficult topic than the weather. “So, how are you?”
I’d learned not to stare at it, but sometimes, her tail was the only part of her that moved. Out of the corner of my eye, I noted its curling and uncurling; however, the rest of her was frozen and staring at the table. Finally, she answered, “Better.”
“That’s good,” I replied with a nod. “I’m guessing that you’re less worried about manticores now?”
She chuckled hollowly. “It rained this morning, which I thought would dampen the smell, but no. Now my cave smells like a pack of skunks made a suicide pact in a swamp. I woke up and almost puked. It was bad.”
I gave her an apologetic glance, but only said, “Well, if it’s any consolation, I still haven’t noticed anything abnormal about your... presence.”
“Eh, whatever.” She waved her hand and changed the subject. “But your cactus bloomed this morning, so apparently, that repellant isn’t deadly to plants.”
“Or at least, not to ones from harsh environments.”
“Or that,” she agreed. “And it let me think about you and me on the flight to work today.”
“Oh?” It was difficult not to sound desperate.
Gilda nodded. “For your apartment offer thing, I’m gonna wait until fall. If I’m sticking around for winter, I don’t want to deal with firewood.” She looked me head-on. “But more importantly, if I’m sticking around for winter, I’m probably going to stick around for good.”
It wasn’t as committed an answer as I would have liked, but given the circumstances, it was probably the best one I could expect. So I assured her, “If you make that choice, my offer will still stand.”
“So why—”
She was interrupted when the waiter came by with our drinks and took our food orders. She got her usual potato; I ordered a grilled sandwich.
When the waiter left, Gilda continued in a quieter tone. “So, uh... thanks, for that.” I nodded my acceptance, and she continued, “But I guess a bigger portion of that issue comes with the question of, ‘Why should I stay here?’”
I started with a simple reason, “What about the good you do as a guard?”
The question made her bob her head. “I mean, it’s hard to see that, though.”
“You apprehended a very dangerous criminal.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, “but now I’ve got to go on random patrols because her brother’s out to get revenge or something.”
I nodded in quiet agreement. Red Hooves had been mostly silent after his sister’s imprisonment—something that either gave credibility to his cut-throat emptiness or her story that they weren’t working together. He’d hired her a good lawyer and sent me a few near-taunting letters that weren’t worth anything but the trash bin. Whatever his tactics were involving his sister, they’d soon be for naught, as her trial was fast approaching and the evidence was damning.
“So,” Gilda continued, “it’d be easier for me to start over in a new city, one with less history.”
“You’d run into hardships there, wherever that is,” I pointed out. “And I don’t mean to hold your conditions over you, but Canterlot is visited by the Elpithasus government representatives fairly often, and they’re marginally involved in Stalliongrad’s trade industry—along with other cities.” I shook my head. “I don’t know what ‘contact’ means for you, but for how much you want to avoid cities with anti-griffin history, Farrington is ironically one of the last places you’d run into another griffin.”
She raised an eyebrow. “So you don’t want me to go?”
“I’ve already told you, I want what’s best for—”
“But what about you?” she interrupted.
I blinked. Her questions were a lot more aggressive than I remembered from a month ago, but then again, she’d had a hard month.
Hell, I’d had a hard month.
With a sigh, I admitted, “No. If I’m being wholly selfish and keeping you entirely for myself, I don’t want you to go. I care about you, I’d worry for your safety, and I’d miss you too much.”
She grinned slightly, but didn’t say anything because we were interrupted by the arrival of our food. After we thanked the waiter and took our first few bites, I asked, “How much does that affect your decision, if I care about you?”
“Not all the way, but some.” She shrugged. “I mean, regardless of if things work out, you’re one of the only stallions I’ve met who’d do...” She pointed a finger at me, then back to her. “This. I’m not saying you’re the only reason I’d stick around Farrington, but you’d definitely be one of the main ones.”
“Well then...” I chose my words carefully. “Does the label for what we are matter to you? Whether we’re friends or lovers, we still enjoy each other’s company, right?”
“I could write letters and visit a friend, though.”
Despite my overwhelming urge to slap myself in the forehead in response to my own question, I simply nodded. “Right. Sorry.”
Gilda ate some of her potato. I met the silence with a bite of my sandwich. After she swallowed, she asked, “So, why do you want to date me?”
Luckily, I had rehearsed this list in my head several times in July. “You’re funny, but in a quiet way. You listen when you’re not getting hung up over something that’s bothering you. We’ve got common interests, even though they’re opposite—you with your race’s history, me with Farrington’s.” I shrugged. “I won’t lie and say that it’s always easy to date you, but the good times more than make up for the troubled ones.”
She nodded sadly at that last part. “But that just reminds me of the ‘why nots.’ Like, you’re my captain. You’re... older...” she said the word slowly. “Like, not too old, if there’s a thing such as that, but...” She stared at her plate for a few moments. “I mean, could you respect someone you have to take care of all the time?”
“I don’t have to constantly help you,” I pointed out. “A shoulder to cry on, or a sounding board for past pains? I’ll always be that for you, regardless of where this relationship goes, but I’ll never think less of you for it.”
Gilda raised an eyebrow. “Then how come I don’t know anything about your childhood?”
I inhaled a breath to respond to her point, realized I couldn’t, then let it out. After a moment’s thought, I settled on, “Not many individuals know about that who weren’t there. Sherry knows most of it, but even Starfall had to piece together bits from the newspapers.”
“What bits?”
“My mother’s death,” I leveled, omitting the circumstances and the image I’d never forget. “Caring for Maxie for most of our childhood afterwards. Mining.”
It was an abridged answer, but it was a good enough answer for Gilda. “Okay...” She nodded. “That’s a good start. Because if this isn’t an equal pairing, I’m probably going to have to say, ‘No.’”
I nodded. “That’s fair.”
“It’d be too creepy.”
The specific accusation made me blink a few times. “Creepy? How so?”
She shrugged slowly. “On Monday, the ‘other stuff’ I mentioned? That was when I uncovered an old memory I’d forgotten all about. Since then, I’ve pieced together my history of injuries...” She stopped to shudder. “I think I’m a little better. Not much, but better. But still, that’s got me thinking, what if Starfall’s right and I need something more than a boyfriend? What if I need a therapist or... a father?”
Suddenly, I knew where “creepy” came from, and it was all I could do to keep from agreeing with a matter-of-fact grunt.
Instead, I shook my head and said, “I’ll do better at making sure this is a give and take relationship, rather than a... fatherly one.” I tried to avoid emphasizing the word, but Gilda still cringed when I said it. “Sorry, but... if you’re putting that term to it, I actually see where you’re coming from. Remember when you asked about our relationship, back when we first started dating?”
“Yeah. You said you didn’t want to be ‘predatory.’”
I decided against defending my use of the term and went with: “Well, that’s what I meant. I know this city, so I’m an authority on that. I’m your captain in the Guard, so I’m an authority there...” I shrugged. “All I can do is promise you that I won’t try to look at you in an unduly nurturing manner. I’ll avoid giving any direct orders in the Guard if you don’t... actively break any laws or regulations in front of me, but other than that... I’ll respect you, your past, and your space. Is that enough?”
She raised an eyebrow. “What if I did some things in the past I’m not proud of?”
I pondered her question for a moment; at first, I was tempted to tell her that I didn’t care. Given her and her past, I decided it would be for the best if I asked, “What things?”
“I mean, I could tell you the whole story if you want, but basically, at Junior Speedsters’, someone kept bullying Dash and me, and I... accidentally went too far in getting her back.”
“Accidentally?” I asked, trying to remain neutral. “How far?”
Her eyes shot open wide and defensively. “I... I just wanted to scare her, not... hurt her.” Gilda shook her head. “I kicked a cloud out from under her while she was asleep, and she... she didn’t wake up until she hit the ground.”
I felt my own eyes widen as my lip curled down. “But she did wake up?”
“Yeah...” Gilda nodded. “Like, it wasn’t too far up to do any serious damage, I thought. But she landed on her wing funny, and...”
I took a deep sigh. I wasn’t pleased by how often she and wing injuries followed each other, not by a long shot. However, I forced myself to reserve judgement before I inquired further. “So, she was a bully? What did the camp counselors do about it?”
Gilda scoffed. “Nothing. The one time Dash and I went to them, they separated us, told me it was no big deal and I should get a sense of humor, and told her that she should make other friends.”
For a moment, I shared in her distant anger at the past; those counselors clearly didn’t handle that situation well. And Gilda had been... fifteen when this event occurred. That was old enough to understand some consequences, but not enough to be entirely judged by them.
However, I cooled off when I had to admit that Gilda probably wouldn’t really have been an easy child to deal with at summer camp. It didn’t excuse the counselor’s incompetence any, but I focused on the problem in front of me: how this sort of thing was a repeat occurrence with Gilda. It wasn’t as if she had learned her lesson from last time...
Then again, maybe she did, which was why she preferred to take matters into her own hands. “Why didn’t you come talk to me when Starfall challenged you to a duel?”
She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. All I remember was it seemed like a good idea to try to talk to him instead of you.” She chuckled darkly. “I didn’t want to be a wedge between you guys.”
I grinned weakly; those were probably the best possible intentions mixed with the worst foresight imaginable, and it had created a terrible disaster for everyone. We’d mostly put the past behind all of us on that; the fact that she had apologized and vowed to “coexist” with Starfall was one of the main reasons I even entertained the possibility of dating her again.
That led me back to the point at hand; my weak grin faded because I had to ask, “Was there anything else? You said ‘things’ from the past you’re not proud of.”
She looked down at the probably cold remnants of her meal and thought for a while. When she spoke, her voice was low. “One more thing, but I can tell you I did learn my lesson, or something, from it.”
I slid my plate to the side to put my hooves on the table and wait for her answer. Finally, she continued, “Like, after I lost everything here, after I thought you’d thrown me out of the city...” She took a deep breath. “I just kept going, with plans on what I’d do tomorrow, you know?” She turned up to look at me right in the eyes. “I wasn’t always that strong, when looking at the possibility of a life with nowhere to go and no one to share it with. Last May, I tried to end it. Luckily, Dash saved me.”
Her confession brought three years’ worth of worry back to me in a heartbeat.
Suicide.
I’d seen enough of it during my time as an officer to last me a lifetime, but I never understood why those individuals did it. I looked at Gilda’s reason—being kicked out of her home and forced to either live in isolation or betray her griffin heritage by joining a pony city.
It still didn’t make sense to me. She had wings, and Equestria was mostly open to her. And if not this country, then the countless others to the south. Somewhere, she could find something if she wanted to.
Then again, I supposed, a weak will to live and enjoy life was probably the root of the problem. Given her past, I could see how that might have been literally beaten out of her.
I took a deep breath. She said she had learned from that experience, and even if she wanted to leave Farrington, I could at least understand that she now wanted to be part of a society in the future instead of living in desolate isolation. She was wary about settling down in Farrington, true, but given her history in the city, I could hardly doubt those reservations.
“Is there anything else?” I whispered.
“Not really...” She looked away. “But what, those aren’t enough for you?”
Despite myself, I chuckled. “I’ll have to trust you when you said you learned your lesson on how to cope with despair. But I’d find it paradoxical to sever ties with you because, in the past, you had issues coping with a lack of ties to anyone or anyplace.” I remembered Starfall’s advice about her, which wasn’t wholly unwarranted. “However, I also have to look out for myself...”
Across the table, Gilda’s eyes widened in fear.
I shook my head. I was worried too. It might turn out to be a mistake, or it might be the best decision I’d ever make. Time alone would tell. “So I suppose my conditions for things to consider are two promises from you—one: stop hurting ponies.” I realized there was technically an overlap with her duties as guard, so I added, “Unless, of course, they resist arrest or need to be apprehended as part of official Guard duties.”
She nodded and seemed to relax, so I moved on to the second condition. “And two... if you ever get into a situation where you’re thinking about suicide... promise me that you’ll at least talk to me first.”
“Okay,” Gilda agreed solemnly. Then, she let out a relieved sigh. “And, uh, you’ll work on keeping things equal between us? No direct orders, no keeping quiet all the time?”
It was only fair, so I nodded.
After that, a silence fell over us that threatened to turn awkward. I stuck my hoof out across the table. “So, are you ready to try this again?”
She looked down at my hoof, then looked up at me. “A hoofshake?”
I was about to retort when she stood up, walked over to my side of the table, and ducked under my outstretched foreleg. She flared her wings out, then retracted them, bringing my arm around her and below her wings. Then, she climbed on me slightly so she could rest her arms around my chest and her head on my neck. I drew her in deeper to the embrace, glad for how warm and soft she was.
“How’s this for a hoofshake?” she whispered. I lightly ruffled her back, which made her shake with a chuckle, and that made me laugh because of her feathers. In a low voice, she continued, “I missed this.”
“Me too,” I admitted.
“Ahem,” our waiter coughed. Gilda peeled away from me and both of us looked at him as he brandished... “Here’s your bill... and... this is a family joint, so...” He looked at Gilda. “Like, I’d ask two ponies to tone it down... so it’s not... you know.”
“I know,” Gilda responded flatly. She then used her wings to slide my hoof off her back, then walked around the waiter to get back to her own seat.
The waiter offered me an apologetic shrug, I shook my head to imply, “No need,” and then he left the bill with us.
After we’d paid and left, Gilda and I walked outside. Once again, we headed south for the end of the day. On the way, she asked, “So, what did you make of that?”
I shrugged. I didn’t really think anything of it, but then again, other than Starfall’s mild insensitivity that usually came from thoughtlessness, I was rarely a target of race-related prejudice. I assured Gilda, “I took him at face value. It is a nice diner, and we were hugging.”
“Yeah...” She bobbed her head in tune with a few of her steps. “I just... he sounded worried about it.”
I fought to keep images of pigeons out of my head. “Well, have you seen him there before?”
“Yeah, when Spotlight’s sick or off.”
“There’s your answer: he knows you’re a regular, and basic customer service says ‘don’t discriminate against your regular customers.’ We broke a rule, he was probably embarrassed to enforce it, and I think that’s all there was to that interaction.”
“I guess,” Gilda agreed.
We spent the rest of the journey to the south gate talking about her experiences in Farrington, and how—despite making a bad name for herself in the paper—things were beginning to die down again for her on that front. For my part, it was slightly frustrating to consider how she was thinking of leaving the city when she was getting nearer and nearer to the level of acceptance she desired.
At the end of our journey, it was past eight o’ clock. The torches inside the southern archway were already lit. Gilda drifted to the side, underneath one of the flames; I followed so that we could say goodbye without blocking anyone’s path—even though admittedly, this late in the day, very few ponies would be coming up from Trottingham and even fewer would be departing for there.
She turned around and said, “So, here we are, again.” Her words sounded... nervous.
I nodded. “Let’s not fight for a month again.”
Gilda laughed. “Yeah, that...” She shook her head. “That was dumb.” Then she looked up at me again. “I’m glad we’re still dating.”
“I am too,” I answered. It awoke in me a warm realization that—chance of painful ending notwithstanding—we were dating again. That warmth permeated me, and for a few moments’ clarity, I realized that the potential ending of something wasn’t necessarily a good thing to judge it by while it was still going on.
I stepped forward so that our chests were almost touching. Gilda cocked her head to the side, slightly confused, but I brought up my right hoof and stroked from the top of her head, down to the back of her neck.
She shuddered a little, closing her eyes and opening her mouth. I leaned down and wrapped my lips around her beak. She gave a quick, surprised gasp. Her beak twitched closed, sending small, momentary sears of pain. Then, she opened her mouth wider than it had been.
Gently, I slid my tongue forward to caress hers; it was a lot thinner and firmer than mine, but that didn’t matter. She returned the gesture, slowly licking the edge of my tongue in a somewhat haphazard manner, but I decided that didn’t matter, either.
Our first kiss was electric, and for a moment, I thought I could actually feel it tingling.
When it was over, I pulled back and planted a small, quick kiss on the outside of her beak. Then I looked down at her; in the torchlight, I saw... blood. I wiped my mouth—which felt rubbery and cold—with the back of my hoof; when I looked at it; sure enough, I was bleeding.
Gilda saw it too; then her mouth turned down in a desolate, horrified expression. I shook my head and said, “Dob wowwy...” before I realized that my entire mouth had gone numb.
It did little to assuage her panic. “I’m sorry!”
I shook my head again and took care to pronounce all the sounds in the words. “It’s... fi-ne.” I gave a shrug. “We’ll figur somfing out.”
She gave me a sad look and said, “We’re so bad at this...”
“I shudda...” I smelled blood and felt it on my chin, now, which made me worry if I needed to go home or to the hospital. Then head to knife store, a Stalliongrad accent suggested.
Gilda cringed, then shook the disgust off her face, saying, “Here...” She then craned her neck up and did... something near my mouth and lips.
When she shrunk away, I rubbed my lips with my other hoof, and it came away much cleaner than my first one had been. “Thanks.” I shrugged. “Nexs time, I’ll ask you firft.”
She nodded sagely. “Probably for the best.” Then, she looked up at me and said, “Good night, Iron.”
I waved. “G’night.”
After that, she took off for home. As she flew away, I kicked one of my back legs against the other; that should have been a good moment between us, not a bloody mess.
I turned around to head back to my home. I hoped that when I got there, Maxie was in her room or occupied where I could sneak past her on my way to the bathroom. I didn’t want to strain her newfound tolerance by parading around evidence of a botched kiss.
Still, even as I noted the unfortunate end to our evening, I had to admit that it was the start of something new between us. For the first time since last month, I held a decent amount hope for the future of our relationship.
Moving forward, we’d just need to plan things better.
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Ah, budding cross-species romance, with a mal-adjusted griffon to boot...
They're going to do just fine. An excellent chapter
My goodness, that kiss was a lot better written than the first time this half of the story was published. And the relationships between the characters feel a lot deeper and more meaningful too! I'll admit that a part of me was concerned at seeing an already good story get rewritten for Fimfic, but man this was totally worth it.
Dat kiss...
Seriously, though, really happy to see that they've gotten back together.
Now I just need to figure out exactly which of the non-main (Iron/Gilda) is going to betray them to Red Hooves and/or Gilda's father...
Another great chapter.
"Gildas Tagebuch" Correct me if this is wrong, but the literal translation of this would be Gilda's Daybook, or Diary, correct? Also, what made you decide that you wanted the gryphons to be German?
Goodness, but I'm glad that things are going better for Gilda et al. I know that conflict, things going horribly and so on, are part of a story... but you really manage to convey that Gilda's had the stuffing kicked out of her by life. She deserves something nice.
2561756>>2561636>>2561572
Thank you guys.
2561926
Yes. Because she's... not very creative with titles...
It was a happy accident. I got about five chapters into writing Heart of Gold before I started to look up names for her family, and until then, I had simply assumed that "Gilda" was a German name.
It turns out, I was thinking of Hilda, but by then, I liked my headcanon too much to just scrap it. So I adjusted it, threw in the "her mom's from a smaller tribe of Welsh griffins, and that explains 'Gilda'".
Now, though, I have one of two official explanations:
1) Germany is rad. Griffins are rad. Ergo, German Griffins are even radder.
2) They both start with "G."
Here we are again, with another wall of comment from Swiftest Shadow. This one may be larger than my usual bouts of comments.
The Giant Hat shop... If memory serves, this was written before Friendship is Witchcraft and Pony Fantasy 6 mod, right?
Feels like there's something missing here. I mean I know she meant her day's not good cause Starfall's the one asking that, but the way she says it makes it sound like she also said something else that's not written here.
You know... I seem to see something like this line a lot. And I mean almost word by word in other chapters.
Redundant, in that something almost exactly like this was already said earlier. I mean, I guess people do in fact repeat thoughts and ideas in their head, and this being Gilda's monologue. However, there's a distinction to be made between narration and reality. At least make the repetition a little more subtle, is all I'm saying.
Seems a bit unrelated. The "wanting to stab whatever malevolent forces" is unrelated to Iron standing in the doorway. It would make more sense to have this at when the door opened, because that's what's making her miserable.
Although... overall, this paragraph seemed a bit awkward to me.
Also... that "malevolent forces"... careful Nick, she's onto you.
The narration in the previous story says otherwise... Rather, I don't think Gilda has ever broken down like that in front of Iron before. Not from my memory anyway.
I can't help but think "Oh his poor neck" here. No lacerations here I hope? Gilda's beak does have a reputation for being absurdedly sharp.
Yes, I know, nothing happened.
This line also feels awkward to me. In that it's a bit contradictory in sense. We're told that Sherry's glare was unrelenting; that she kept glaring at him. And then we're immediately told it softened.
With the way you capitalized "Watcher", it's almost as if it's an exclusive title to a single individual. In that when one says "watcher" we know we're referring to a specific person.
A bit like saying "the Doctor", not "the doctor". When it's capitalized, we tend to think of a thousand-year-old-time-lord-with-a-blue-box.
Y'know what I'm saying?
Heh, the adaptation of this line does a good job showing the change in your characterization of Sherry. In the original, she just said "talk to her about it".
Nice transition from dramatic angsty to downright hilarious here by the way. Especially with the next line.
I wonder what evil smells like.
So... basically half a week's wage then? Cause if memory serves, she gets paid weekly.
To "keep it like that" perhaps?
As someone who can speak French, I found this rather amusing. Feuille means both page and leaf in french.
Interesting... if memory serves, in the original, he didn't like Gilda going through the records, did he? Granted, it makes more sense now, otherwise Gilda would not have ever been literate.
Remove "so" because you already said "since". And perhaps replace the comma with a semicolon. "... since sun was setting; it made easier to read..."
Heh, hard to say whether Rainbow would help Gilda as well if she knew about all this. If memory serves, all Rainbow knows of is the condition to Gilda's banishment. So it's interesting to think on whether hot-headed Rainbow Dash would help, and if she would be able to help.
Wait... who's Iron talking about here?
Narrative slip-up. How does Iron know it's her "usual"? He only learned just now that this was the diner she goes to. Unless you actually meant "she got" as in the waiter came with that when said waiter brought their drinks, from which Iron assumed it was her "usual"... I'm looking too deeply into this, aren't I?
All in all, an enjoyable chapter and the transition from depressed to happy was well done.
Also a good job in describing the first kiss, which you had skipped in the original (an off-hand mention of it, with him coming back home for Maxie to wonder what had happened). A great improvement because first kisses are always important in this kind of story.
I both look forward and dread to seeing more, since it means we're coming closer to its ending. Still, all good stories end eventually. So let's enjoy the ride while we're still on it.
Question of curiosity: Will chapters be uploaded on Saturdays from now on? Or was this week and last just a 2-times thing?
2562189
In one of their previous dates they went to a Buffet becase Iron wanted to "take notes" about the things she could and couldn't eat. But I think eating something twice doesn't count as usual.
Good chapter. Wonderful to see Iron and Gilda's relationship developing (Dat kiss
) and Starfall seems to be keeping his character development. Sherry is still one of the funniest characters, albeit also one of the most sympathetic. Overall, a very pleasing read.
2562102 Can't argue that logic, I love the German language. I even sometimes play games in German dubbing if possible. (IE: TF2)
Does anyone else hear Sherry speaking in Balalaika's voice from Black Lagoon? The two just fit together way too well for me, given that Revy and Gilda have the same voice actress.
I'll admit, the rewrite had me worried at first, but as it's progressed I've fallen in love with this story all over again. This chapter in particular really showed me that this process is making a wonderful story even better.
So many heartfelt moments, and that kiss made me unsure whether I wanted to burst out laughing or melt into a puddle of dawww. When Gilda said "we're so bad at this", I even got nostalgic for one of my first relationships. I laughed when I read it almost as loud as I did when I heard it.
Anyhoo, now I have to wait for more of this. Blegh. Waiting's the pits, man. Write, write like the wind!
I always believed that her father thought that she was the weakest link of all of his children.
2562102 FYI, I quite like the idea of the Griffons' language being German. Probably because I can understand it reasonably well
Lol'd
"...important than the..." methinks.
I love this story. The rewrite definitely succeeds in making the story that much deeper. 12 000 words a week simply isn't enough!
Somewhat spoilerific question: I remember a scene about Gilda's uncle (?) from the original. Are we going to see that again? I remember liking the scene, but it doesn't seem to have a place in the rewrite in my opinion.
D'AAAWWWWWW
2562189
Nope; she gets paid biweekly.
He didn't mind her reading the histories, just certain parts of it.
While they were dating, and even while they were training for her first week, she usually gravitated towards potatoes.
Heh... I wrote a blog about this.
2563753
Thank you for that.
And yeah, the whole "I'm getting you a thousand-bit birthday gift" deal ended up getting the axe. It was an interesting idea, but really, the pacing of the story didn't call for it, the timing wasn't write, and I preferred the whole "Summer Sun Festival" and her cactus instead of the "secret letter of foreshadowing."
Especially since, the less foreshadowing I have, the less I'm forced to resolve it in a sequel.
2562102 thanks to you Griffs will be German in most of the stories bouncing around in my head(or desert nomads) i need to start writing them down
All in all another winner.
It was nice to see the kiss instead of hearing some joke about how Starfall can't take a joke.
And now Iron is going to practice tonguing and knife......
The scene also was a much better handling of the revelations of Gilda's past.
The handling of the dynamic of the unequal pairing has been split between Starfall and Iron.
I guess once you get Starfall's honor going, it will override most everything else which admitedly is what you want in guard.
One question then .... Does Iron know yet that Starfall had physically attacked Gilda earlier in the day before the duel?
2564143
Nope.
Starfall mentioned "two times" that he attacked her, but Iron thought he was talking about the minorly-sexually-harassment thing in Chapter 4 of Summer Days.
It doesn't really matter, though. Starfall's turned over a new leaf (after getting his ass beaten, granted), but Iron looks past it and Gilda doesn't really care, now that she and Starfall have agreed to put things behind them.
That kiss had me burst out laughing. I can't wait until we get an extremely detailed flashback to Sherry's experiences with griffins and the story veers towards Mature!
But seriously, I've been waiting for this chapter and I think it paid off well. I'm glad they got their reservations on the table and could talk through them--I find these conversations incredibly awkward, but it shows that they're adults with a lot of respect for each other.
Man, Sherry ships these guys hard, huh? Things don't go back to normal after one talk, down girl!
It's funny how she seems to veer between "manipulative mastermind" and "team mom" in my eyes.
Things seem to be on an upward slope, though I'm sure more problems are just over the horizon. I look forward to reading about them! As always, thanks a ton for writing.
Hellz yeah another awesome update for the one ship-fic I actually enjoy!
Really appreciate the extra character development and screen time accompanying Starfall's Heel Face Turn, particularly when comparing it to the relatively rushed development Star got in the original iteration of this story. I definitely get the sense that even though he's still kind of a dick, Starfall has definitely managed to finally pull his head out of his ass.
Have to admit, initially I didn't really know what to make of Sherry's re-characterization as the relatively cold and distant chess master she is now, but then on the other hand she still comes off as a believable if somewhat aloof character, so I guess I can't really complain. The fact that she's managed to get some pretty good results doesn't hurt either.
Finally, I can definitely echo what has been said in the previous comments regarding the scenes with Gilda and Iron, and how much more "real" their relationship feels in this re-write, While the first write-up did a pretty good job of conveying the awkwardness of their situation, I do believe that this version has done a better job of conveying their hopes, emotions, and nigh crippling awkwardness overall. Oh and yes, that kiss was definitely all kinds of "D'awww!", crossed with a heap'n helping of "Iron you idiot! Warn her first!"
At any rate, let me just say that I am very glad to see that this fic is finally on its way to getting a proper conclusion. I'll definitely be keeping an eye on this account from now on!
Ahhh. The bloodied kiss, I remember that from the original version. It was one of my favorite moments. Kissing a griffon is like kissing a Swiss army knife while fingering the flipup... Or something like that.
2562189
What evil smells like? Good question. What cliche evil stuff that smells do we have. hell:sulphur, zombies/vampires/etc:rotting meat, lawyers:mostly paperwork, hospitals:chlorine bleach, waste/garbage incineration plant:burning plastic/rubber/etc, blood:iron, wet cat/rarely dog:???, football players:sweat
Lt. Justice that was really unnecessary. She already has perfectly good gauntlets
2575279
Man, you saw what she did to her first alarm clock, and she came *this* close to fracturing Iron's jaw during their breakup. Why are you trying to weaponize her startled morning punches?
2575322 Because it would be hilarious
Iron: Good morning Gil-*THWACK* oh god my nose!!
YES!!!!!!
So glad I went back through my favorites to find this! Blasted system didn't auto-update!
Great to thing how things are progressing!
Jawohl!
Absolutely love this, love this ,LOVE THIS :
omg...^^ absolutely epic, I cannot stop reading. OMG I've read like 20 chapters or something now, awesome, unprecedented. This may be my new favorite story!!! But don't tell Dawn Fade D:
Your characters are very well developed.
I think there's a missing scene you should have in there....
That kiss was hilarious, awkward, and heartwarming all in one. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Wonderful stuff, man. The buildup was maddening, and now the payoff is sweet. Iron and Gilda being back together makes me happy on a level I haven’t felt in a long time from romance fiction. Can’t wait to see how we start moving to the finale!
I don't like the idea that things have been GUILDA's fault. I mean, she was PRESSED into that duel, she was not brought up right(one f*cked up father), those counselor did a bang up job on making it worse. Of course Guilda has poor temper control. SHE knows it, and she TRIES. Slap on the wrist would be enough for her, and bigger problems to those, who START things with her.