1 - Chestnut's Commission
Chestnut's Commission
by Gentian
20200402
Based on the pony adopted from Foxhatart.
Canterlot shines. It is the crown jewel sparkling in the radiance of Celestia's own sun brightly enough from the gilding of its painted domes to rival the snowcap atop the mountain on which it perches. The wisdom, and mercy of its mistresses adds still another light, that of goodness, love, and justice for all who bask in their warmth. From its marble balconies overlooking the valley, the Royal Sisters stretch out their hooves, voices ringing as silver trumpets, to pronounce their will, to which the very sun, and moon themselves listen, and heed.
Canterlot is the most important city in Equestria, and one of the most beautiful, too. Anypony would tell you so. Its streets are wide, despite wending across a mountainous promontory. Even in the lower parts of the city, where they're paved in cobbles, instead of being hewn from the living rock of the mountain, and even there, they are smooth, and straight. Its parks are many, and filled with soft, delicious grass; fecund trees, always heavy with fruits both familiar, and exotic; and glittering fountains fed from the waters of the high peak above, and pure springs below. All of this is free for the taking of anypony who desires, as the magic, and benevolence of the Diarchy lets none go wanting.
Today, the sky above Canterlot spreads the deep sapphire blue of midsummer. A line of small, puffy cumulus marches languidly along the Western horizon telling anypony neglectful enough to have not read the weather schedule, that no rain would come the whole day long. It's a warm day, and dry. Ponies fill the parks, but only the haughtiest are wearing anything at all; comfort is more important in weather like this, and the cool fountain sprays, and warm, gentle breezes are comfortable, indeed
One such breeze blows through the open windows of a little shop. It carries the scents of warm trees with it, and sets the plain, light draperies therein swaying at its touch. A human woman stands with her arms crossed inside the shop, amidst tables of paint, water, and charcoal. Easels with projects at various stages of completion rise here, and there, around the workroom. A leather belt with pouches of brushes, and other artistic sundries hangs from her waist, and her head tilts pleasantly, nodding along with the conversation coming from the grateful, light-yellow earth-pony mare before her.
“Really? You'll do it?” the mare asks excitedly, then with an uncertain glance at the floor “Umm, how much...” she trails off.
“Will I charge?” the human finishes for her. “For y'all? Nothing,” she laughs, with a wave of her hand. Just leave those vignettes here, and come by every now, and then, so you can give feedback on the work-in-progress. Deal?”
“Absolutely!” she says with a little almost-rear. “Thank you so much!”
“You're welcome, Mrs. Dande,” the woman smiles.
“This is for you, then...if you want to come,” she says, pulling something from her saddlebags, and setting it on a nearby table. It's made of colored paper, and crudely folded in imitation of the style letters often are in Equestria, in lieu of being placed in envelopes, before being sealed with wax, resin, or glue. The woman steps closer, bare feet nearly silent on the stone floor, to examine it: an invitation, to her foal's birthday party! And judging by the unsteady cursive lettering, probably written by the filly in question, herself. “If you want to come,” repeats the mare.
The woman lowers the letter with a pensive look on her face. “Thank you, but if I do, it will be as a guest, yes? Not as an attraction? Nopony but your herd members will know until I'm there?”
“Oh, of course!”
“All right then. I'll get to work on it. Thanks for stopping by. And for the pie! I love pears!”
“Oh, hahaha, you're welcome!” she laughs awkwardly. “Thank you, too! As often as you come to the bakery, you bet I know you like pears! And you're always friendly, but...this is business, and you never really know until you ask.”
“Well, don't worry about it at all, Dande. I'm happy to do it for you, and little Chestnut.”
“Thank you! This will mean so much to her!
“I'll get out of your way, then? See you tomorrow?”
“Mm-hmm, see you then!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A fortnight later, and Canterlot is much quieter. The parks are clear, even though by the clocks, and sundials it's only slightly after mid-day. The sun, too is much dimmer than usual, being shrouded behind a sky filled with clouds: stratus, and nimbostratus mostly, but cumulus congestus also crowd the western plain, and a thunderhead towers higher than nearly any pegasus can fly. Distant Cloudsdale, if it hasn't already been moved is obscured behind sheets of falling rain. The deluge is not far away, but neither, yet has it reached Canterlot.
All throughout the city, ponies are sheltering in their homes, or preparing to. Thunderstorms are an unusual event in the parts of Equus with controlled weather, and so, the residents don't have the opportunity, or in many cases, the inclination, to learn there's really not much to worry about. At the homey studio, however, the windows haven't been shuttered. The curtains are tied in bunches at the windows of the front porch, and pillars of the veranda, both to stop them whipping about in the expected wind, and to let in whatever wan light still bleeds through the sky.
Rin, the owner of this particular studio, and the only human in Equestria, lays sprawled inelegantly over a rococo chaise lounge, right hand behind her head, and left cradling a glass of milk tea, swishing it gently. She enjoys thunderstorms, from the dryness of the indoors, of course. Lightning flashes quickly in the gap between cloud, and valley floor, and she closes her eyes. Moments later, the sound of rolling thunder echoes softly through the streets. She breathes deeply, savoring the bouquet of petrichor borne on the stormwinds.
She rarely ever checks the weather schedule, preferring, instead to let it come as a surprise, as it did in her days on her homeworld. She really has no one but herself to blame, therefore for scheduling a meeting with Dandelion Smile, the earth mare who commissioned her latest work, on a day the sky was going to open up. It's not that big of a deal; she was only supposed to come by, and give a final check of the colors used in a test painting. However it did have to be done before she began filling out the charcoal sketch which would become the finished piece. True, that could be done tomorrow, or any other day, really, and probably would, but in a world without phones there was no way to quickly confer.
Oh well, she thinks. That uncertainty is a small price to pay for the peace, and quiet a lack of the “convenience” of cell phones brings to life. More than likely, Dandelion, or one of her herdmates would drop by the next day, and for now, there's a storm to enjoy.
The thunder died, and she opened her eyes, taking another sip of her tea. Delicious; an exact copy of the Kochakaden style she'd favored in Japan. It's the little cantrips, really, that have a disproportionately pleasurable impact on the quality of life here.
The breeze temporarily gusts to a rain-chilled wind, just cool enough to bring goosebumps to her bare skin; a nice change after the string of warm days that had preceded. The ponies don't know what they're missing. Their warm coats are wonderful, but the rawness of experience gained with smooth human skin is marvelous in its own right. It also dries more easily than fur, which is a good reason she doesn't expect to have any company for the remainder of the day. Naturally, then it comes as quite a surprise to see a pegasus swoop down from somewhere over her studio, and alight on her balcony. He is the middle-blue of his namesake, with black, and white tips to his feathers, and saddlebags around his barrel. Cautiously, he takes a step toward the opened doors, stops as if unsure, then peers inside, curiously.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Summer Sky,” Rin calls out cheerily. “What are you doing here?” His ears swivel, and his head perks up at her voice.
“There you are Rin. Somewhere. You're hard to see! It looks so dark in there.”
“It's not so dark once you're in here.” Taking that as an invitation, the pegasus stallion steps between the pillars, into the studio, and pauses while his eyes adjust.
“Hunh, you're right.
“Dande sent me. She didn't think she could get here, and back before the rain hit, so she asked me to come, and take a look at it for her.”
“Oh, sure. I thought today'd be a wash, but your lead mare's a smart one, Sky.”
“Oh, wow, I am so telling her you called her that.”
A giggle. “Isn't she, though?”
“Yeah, but nopony actually says that anymore. 'Lead mare,'” he chuckles, shaking his head.
“Hmm. Well, I should probably put on a light, then,” she says, swinging her legs over the edge of the chair. “Did you fly through any rain? Do you need a towel?”
“No, I got here in time, thanks.”
“Tea, then?”
“If you have some ready, sure.”
“Ok, make yourself at home, and I'll be back down with it, in a moment.”
“Wait a minute,” he said, extracting a cloth-wrapped package from his saddlebags, suddenly filling the room with the scent of freshly baked pastry crust, and sweet fruit. “This is for you. Pear cobbler. Dande wanted to make sure you got it fresh.”
“Wow, Thank you! You know you don't have to keep doing this. Every time y'all visit you bring some new, yummy, peary thing with you.”
“And you didn't have to paint Chestnut's picture, but you are, and we're grateful. You're not even charging us for it; consider it payment in trade, if you want to.”
“Well, thank you, I'll put it in the kitchen.”
“Ok,” he nods, watching her, and the aromatic package disappear up some stairs heretofore hidden behind a curtain. Some rattling pans later, she reemerges with a tray baring a tea set, and 2 small bowls of still-warm pear cobbler.
“Here you go, Sky.”
“Thank you,” he said, with a little bow.
“You know, Chestnut's got my love of speed,” he says, continuing where they left off. “She's dreamed of winning that race ever since she found out about it. At first it was the Running of the Leaves, but now she wants to go all the way to the Olymponics! Number 72, just like in the school race.
“Chestnut's always talking about it, saying one day she's gonna win that gold medal. Who would have thought an earth pony and a pegasus would make a unicorn who loves galloping more than studying!”
“That's not so hard to believe,” she replies between bites of cobbler. “I've seen the photographs in your bakery; Dandelion was a guardsmare before a baker, and you're a royal courier. Physicality is in your blood.
“And please make sure she knows how good this is! Even better than she usually makes for Non-P.”
“Dande will be thrilled you think so.
“It's just I thought unicorns were more studious, than athletic,” he says with a shrug. “We don't have any in our herd, and neither did my parents', so I never really got to find out.”
Rin laughs, “mmm, yeah, I've noticed they tend to be that way, too, but that just makes your daughter even more special, right?”
“Darn right!” he says through the last mouthful of crust.
She gave him a moment to swallow, and put his empty plate down on the table. “Down to business, then?” She asks, standing, and leading him to an easel. “That will be the finished painting there, but this-” she pulls a much smaller canvas from between the easel, and a column “-is what I wanted y'all to see.”
“That's...I mean, it looks like her,” he says with a nod. “You got the colors right, and everything.”
“Good. And you want to keep it this way, grown up, but without a cutiemark? Now's the last stage it can be changed.”
“Yeah. We don't know what it'll be, when she finally gets it, so it's better to leave it off, for now. That's the way it's usually done, isn't it?”
“Yes, if it's not simply covered up. I just want to make sure.”
“That'll do well, and you got her little headband, and racing saddle just right, too!”
“Are you sure you wouldn't want her to have a medal around her neck?”
“No, she bucks like that to celebrate whenever she wins. She'll know what it means. It'll be like she just crossed the finish line.”
“All right. Then if you're satisfied, I'll start painting the original tomorrow.”
“That sounds good to me.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Nearly a month has passed since Dandelion Smile first walked into Rin's studio. The days are warmer, now, but the murmuring fountains never flag, and the proud trees still reach upward in defiance of the summer's heat. You'll never make me bow, they seem to say, and their thick canopies of deep green leaves rise high over the rooftops surrounding one particular park, as if to prove it. A tent stands there, too, adorned with colorful crepe paper, and swollen balloons, though from a distance, the rainbow coats and manes of the many ponies gathered around it make them difficult to distinguish.
The gathering is easy to see from the ornamented glass front of a nearby building. It's 2 stories tall, and set conveniently on a corner by the edge of the park. Purple, and green marquis overhang it's windows, and a little wrought-iron fence decorates the wall. A brilliantly painted wooden sign proclaims it to be Patisserie Nonpariel, or Non-P, as it's colloquially known, and despite the sunny hour, said windows are darkened, and obscured by drawn shades.
Observant ponies may notice Rin turn the corner, hurrying toward the bakery as well as she can, burdened as she is with a package under her arm, and a haversack around her shoulder. Careful observers may even notice the route she's apparently taken is an unusual one, not the shortest, or most direct path between her studio, and the bakery, but instead, seemingly chosen to avoid walking along the park until the last possible moment. Fortunately, the carefully observant ponies can infer the likely reason for this by the identity of the herd holding the party in the park, and the owners of the bakery to which she goes, and let her pass anonymously.
She knocks on the door, and a large, emerald-green eye pokes furtively around the edge of the shade, then crinkles with a half-hidden smile. Dandelion quickly opens the door, then closes it, again, once her human visitor, and the cloth-wrapped rectangle under her arm are safely inside, making the “closed” sign hanging in the window clatter against the glass.
“Right on time, Rin!”
“I sure tried, Ms. Dande.”
“And you're dressed today, too.”
“Sompony said there's a party. I thought I should snazz it up a little.” She gestures to her head, “I even swapped my usual boonie hat, for a fedora.”
“Anyway, it sure is dark in here after being out in that sun. Nice, and cool, too.”
“Isn't it, though?” she asks wide-eyed. “Sky, and Fantabulous like to joke about it, too. They say it every time they come home. Unless it's dark out, then they say it's too bright.”
“Well, they'd be right, today.”
“Mmmm-hmm,” she says with an enthusiastic nod. “Is that it?”
“Sure is. Do you want to see it, now?”
“No, bring it back to the kitchen, so we don't have to turn on any lights out here.”
“It's like you're hiding out.”
“Sort of. She knows I'm here; we told her I had some last-minute stuff to do, and I'd be at the party with everypony else when it was done. I don't want to risk anypony seeing inside though!”
“You're a smart one. Just like I was telling your stallion, earlier.”
“Pff hahahaha. Yeah, I heard! Lead mare!” Together, they pass between the tables, behind the service counter, and through a recess shingled between the back wall, and the display rack mounted thereon. It was almost like walking back outside; here the lamp-crystals were glowing brightly, and the warm air smelled of yeast.
“So, this is what it looks like back here.”
“Now that it's clean, yeah. Even tomorrow's sourdough is already made, and tucked in the rising room,” she says with more than a hint of pride. “Normally those worktables are covered in flour, and most of the day's supplies are crowded in here, instead of in the cellar. You should see this place when we're baking!
“You can put it on that,” she says, gesturing toward an easel set up at the base of a staircase. Rin complies, and unties the knot binding the cloth closed. A moment later, she stands, and with a nod of confirmation from her patron, sweeps back the wrapping to reveal Chestnut, as a well-developed mare; older, and mightier, her foalish squatness replaced by a svelte unicorn's graceful form. Her weight was shifted to her forelegs, while her rear's kicked out behind her in victory, sending her sandy-blonde mane, and tail whipping about herself like a dust devil. Dynamically motionless, runner's muscles rippling beneath her smooth, brown coat.
Silence fills the room, until Rin at last speaks: “So...”
“Oh, I love it!” she laughs, giving another little almost-rear like she did that first day in the studio. “She will, too, I know it!”
“I hope so. To be honest, it's a bit of an unusual present for someone her age. At least, it would be for a human child.” Dandelion Smile pauses from comparing the new painting to the returned vignettes, now scattered on the table in front of her, to look over at Rin, a thoughtful smile on her face.
“It would be for a foal, too, but...
“Lets go upstairs, I'd like to show you something.”
Silently, Dandelion leads Rin up to the building's 2nd story, into the private space of her family. The stairs meet another, rather sturdy door at the top. Beyond it, their wood gives way to a carpeted room, filled with comfortable furniture, and lined in photographs, and paintings featuring a collection of mostly-familiar ponies: the memories of a happy family, and lives well-lived.
“This,” she says, plucking a book from the shelf, “is what I wanted to show you.”
“Homo Sapiens Sapiens,” reads Rin, before familiarity makes her break into a smile. “By HRH Princess Twilight Sparkle, MagD, MS, and HRH Princess Sunset Shimmer, MagM, MS.”
“This is hers.”
“Whose? Chestnut's?”
“Yes,” Dandelion responds with obvious pride. “She's an athletic filly, but she's also very smart. She can't understand everything in here, but she wants to. She loves science, and magic, and idolizes Princess Sunset because she's smart, magical, and athletic, too, just like Chestnut wants to be. When this book was released, she begged us to buy her a copy, and now she wants to learn everything she can about humans.”
“Hmmm. So you wanted to get her a painting by me, because she's a fan of my species, and of one of my herdmates?”
“You should see her when she reads it. She taught herself how to use the dictionary, and studies so hard, and it's because of you, and Princess Sunset. We think this might help her even more. And believe me when I say, she's going to absolutely love your painting.”
“Yeah, I think she might, now, too.”
“It means so much to us that you did this. Thank you-” she gently presses her shoulder into Rin's thigh, and leans“-From all of us.”
“It was my pleasure,” she says, squatting down to hug the yellow mare.
“Now, did you want to come to the party?”
“Yeah, that's why I'm dressed up today, and carrying this bag. There's something else for Chestnut in here,” she says, patting it gently.
“Paint, brushes, and paper,” she explains at the mare's quizzical expression.
“Oh, she'll like those!”
“Well then, shall we go?”
Together they smiled as the bakery's door shut behind them, and walked to the party.