Coffee in Canterlot
Coffee in Canterlot
It was a wonderful autumn day in Canterlot. The trees had taken on shades of stunning reds and beautiful gold’s. The crisp air was cooler than the spring, but still lacked that biting winter chill. It was still early in the morning and Celestia’s sun had only just started to peek above the horizon.
The central plaza bustled with activity as vendors set up stalls to sell their wares. Everything from fruits and vegetables to clocks, quills and jewellery. Mocha Latte hummed a soft little tune as she walked through the plaza, stopping on occasion to admire a little doodad that caught her eye. Her destination, however, lay beyond the plaza and took her to the artisan’s district.
One thing that always caught her attention here was the uniqueness of this place. From the unusual architecture to the various artworks and statues that sat on street corners and parks. The residents themselves also had a charming quirkiness about them. She turned down a small avenue and then heard a sharp, repeating sound resonating along the narrow walls, indicating that she was getting close.
Soon enough, she arrived at a blacksmith at the end of the street. It was a simple looking place, but ornate metalwork could be seen everywhere. From the eves of the windows to the door handle and even some lovely wind chimes that hung from the workshop entrance. Mocha often stopped by here just to admire it.
She walked inside and the cool breeze gave way to the sweltering heat of the furnace. A large Unicorn hammered away at a strip of metal on the anvil in from of him. He was large for a Unicorn, more like a draft pony from the Earth species. He had a coat as black as night and a long, silver mane. He was an older pony, well into his sixties, but it was difficult to tell. Whenever Mocha saw him around town, even the younger mare would swoon on occasion. She simply stood there and watched as he levitated a large hammer and beat the metal. It cooled and he quickly thrust it into the fire until it glowed red hot once more.
As he hammered, he began to weave magic into it and the metal began to take shape. Mocha wondered what it was he was making until she noticed some ornate silver spears hanging on the wall behind her, each one as beautiful as the last.
The hammering stopped, followed by a hiss as he dunked the metal into a bucket of water. He lifted his goggles and looked at the mare standing in his workshop.
“What brings you about here so early lass?” he asked, his gruff voice held a hint of kindness as he smiled warmly. “Surely a pretty little filly like you has better things to do than watch an old stallion work?”
Mocha smiled back as her friend greeted her. “You know I could watch this all day Silvermane,” she replied. “But I am actually here on business today.”
“S’that so?” he said with a chuckle. “Well what can I do fer ya?”
“Well it’s like this...” Mocha began. “As I opened my store today, the door jammed and when I tried to force it… the hinge kinda well, broke.”
“Broke huh?” he stroked his long beard. “Didja get the hinges from ‘ere?”
Mocha looked a little sheepish as he pawed the ground with her hoof. “No,” she said quietly.
“Well there’s yer problem!” Silvermane laughed, “Mine wouldn’t break jus like that!”
“So can you help me?” Mocha asked. “I can’t have a broken front door for too long.”
Silvermane scratched his beard, “Well there’s another problem. I gotta finish these ceremonial spears fer Princess Luna’s Guards,” he explained, pointing to the ones on the wall and the half-finished one in his bucket. “They’re havin some big ceremony fer the Winter Solstice and I gotta make about forty of ‘em.”
“You got a commission from the Princess!” Mocha was impressed. No wonder she hadn’t seen him much lately. “I must say, they look beautiful… but what are they made from?”
“Woven Mythril!” Silvermane said proudly. He was one of the few blacksmiths that could work it since one required magic to mould the metal properly.
He walked over to a large workbench and rummaged about in a drawer. After a moment, he produced two wonderful-looking ornate hinges crafted from cast iron.
“These should complement that oak door of yers nicely,” he said. “Sturdy too, it’d take a couple of good bucks from draft pony to loosen these babies!”
“Oh thank you Silver!” Mocha thanked him, taking his hoof in hers. “How much do I owe you?”
Silvermane though for a moment, “Well these were made when I got bored one evenin’ so don’t worry bout it.”
“Oh but I must repay you somehow,” Mocha replied, never one to take something for nothing.
“Hmm...” he thought a moment more and then had an idea. “How about a delicious cup of yer Fire Brew coffee? I’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t had a chance to get some that in mah belly in weeks!”
Mocha giggled and nodded. “It’s a deal!” she said. “I’ll run these home, fit them and be back afterwards.”
“Ah don’t worry yer pretty little head bout that either,” he said. “I’ll lend yer my assistant to fit the hinges fer ya!” he looked towards the back room. “Hey Ironboy, I got a job fer ya!” he hollered out.
A huge Earth Pony emerged from the back room. His upper body was a chocolate brown whilst his lower half was white. He had a rough, spiky snow white mane and tail. Green bands tapered the end of his tail and most notably were the metal armour on his forelegs.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, his voice was a deep baritone, yet it had a shy quietness to it. Mocha shivered a little when he spoke.
“Miss Mocha ‘ere needs some door hinges fitted, you up fer the task lad?” Silvermane asked him. Once he got closer Mocha saw just how tall he was. Silvermane was a large pony, but this guy stood a full head taller. Mocha was tall herself, and lanky (she preferred leggy though). But this guy was enormous.
“I can do it,” he replied. “Shouldn’t be a problem."
He walked over to Mocha and looked at her, his green eyes looking at her and Mocha felt her knees go a little weak.
“Um… yes?” she asked timidly.
“Shall we get going?” he asked.
Mocha nodded and led him out the door. Silvermane watched them go. “I hope she can work her magic with that lad, try to perk ‘im up a bit.” He grabbed his spear and resumed hammering, singing loudly and off key.
***
Mocha walked silently, a slight blush on her face as the huge stallion walked behind her, equally silent.
“So, um...” Mocha began, eager to break the maddening silence. “May I ask your name?”
He remained silent for a moment. “Ironshod.” he replied.
Mocha nodded. “Well it’s nice to meet you Ironshod,” Mocha said. “My name is Mocha Latte, but you can just call me Mocha.”
“I see,” he replied. “Then you may address me as Iron if you so wish.”
The silence resumed as they continued to walk. “Um, may I ask you another question?” Mocha said, trying to get this awkwardness out of the way.
“Yes?” he replied. Short and sweet seemed to be the flavour of the month.
“What are those metal things on your front hooves?” she asked him. “They’re very unique.”
Ironshod looked down and lifted one up proudly. “I made them to make my smithing work easier,” he explained. “Have you tried hammering metal with your teeth? It’s not very comfortable. So I created these to hammer the metal with my hooves.” He stomped a hoof down, cracking the concrete tile below. “They’re quite effective.”
“Wow!” Mocha said. “They’re pretty cool.”
“Thank you.” Ironshod replied. “I am quite proud of them.”
Mocha managed to continue some small talk until they reached her café. Ironshod noticed the door hanging loosely by a single hinge before Mocha levitated it up straight. “I suppose to first thing to do is fix this door huh?” she said.
“Indeed,” Iron agreed. “Would you be able to hold it there like that? I can remove the old hinges and fit the new ones in no time.”
Mocha nodded. “My levitation is pretty good,” she smiled, puffing out her chest proudly. “I can keep this up all day.”
Iron nodded and went to work. He pulled a small hammer out of his tool bag and pried the loose nails from the door and door frame, first from the broken hinge and then from the remaining one. Once he was done, Mocha levitated the first hinge up to the door, holding it in place. Iron made note of her magical multi-tasking, thinking it to be impressive. He lifted the nail up and tapped it into the door enough so the nail sat there unassisted and then with a single solid thump of his armoured hoof, drove the nail into the thick, oak door.
Mocha almost dropped the door in surprise, that stallion packed a lot of power!
“Oh? Sorry,” he said apologetically. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Quite alright.” she said, taking a breath. “I just didn’t expect you to be quite so strong.”
Ironshod smiled a little, “I apologise once more. Can you continue?”
“Quite,” Mocha replied, nodding. “I am not a lady who turns down a little hard work.”
It only took about 15 minutes to finish the rest of the door. “Okay!” Iron said, tapping the last nail into place. “Give that a try.”
Mocha opened and closed the door a few times, and found that it moved almost effortlessly, despite being made from heavy oak. “Silversmith truly is a genius,” she said and then smiled at Ironshod. “And you’re not too bad either.”
“Gee thanks.” Iron replied, but smiled again. This mare seemed nice enough, not like some of the more immature ones he’d met in the past and certainly not like the other unicorns here in Canterlot.
“W-would you like to come inside and have something to drink?” she asked him. “I have to make something for Silvermane anyhow”.
Ironshod nodded and followed her inside. He saw glimpses of it when he was fixing the door, but now his job was out of the way he could take a good look. Most of the furnishings were hand carved wood, from the bar to the tables and chairs. It was lit by iron lanterns hanging from the ceiling, giving the whole place a very intimate feel. The building itself was a long and rectangular, with the bar and stools at the front, the middle was more rounded, with circular tables and deep, plush leather couches. The end of the building held a small stage, with a few instruments adorning it.
The overall feel and design reminded Ironshod of the inns back in his homeland and it made him feel both nostalgic and a little homesick.
“This is a nice place,” he said to her as she headed behind the counter. “Very much like from where I’m from actually.”
“Oh? You’re from the Frozen North?” she said, surprising him to no small extent.
“You’ve heard of it?” he asked. “Almost nopony has.”
“I’ve read my fair share of books,” Mocha explained. “And when I first saw you I had a hunch that you might be an Iniltearian.”
“Well you are quite right,” he replied. “I was born and raised there; it’s also where I got my smithing skills from…” He trailed off as he remembered his home. He wondered if his family was doing okay, especially his younger brother Glacius.
“Hey!” Mocha suddenly said. “I was hoping you could do me a favour?”
Ironshod snapped out of his daydream and looked at her. “What is it?”
“Well you see… I happen to have acquired some ingredients to brew a drink native to that region, and I was hoping you could taste it for me? To see if I’m brewing it right?”
Iron nodded, he didn’t see why not. He enjoyed the odd coffee when he worked, but not too much as it hindered his ability to think clearly.
Mocha went to work, placing the water on the heat and grinding the beans into a fine powder, much finer than for any other way of preparation. After a moment, she immersed the grounds into the water, which was heated, but not boiling. She then added a single spoon of sugar and stirred slowly, allowing the coffee grounds to sink to the bottom and the sugar to dissolve. Mocha placed the pot on a moderate heat and stopped stirring, any more would ruin it. Once the pot came to a boil, she removed it, allowing it to sit for a short while and then returned it to the heat once more.
She repeated this process three times and then began to pour it into a cup. She poured it slowly, lifting the pot higher as she
poured until the glass mug was full. It had a thick layer of foam and Mocha smiled at her completed art. She repeated the process into a second mug and then placed one in front of Ironshod.
“I hope it tastes as good as it looks,” she said.
Ironshod was quite impressed. She had made a very difficult drink to make and she made it look easy. The scent was divine and he spent a brief moment just savouring the smell. He leaned in and pressed his lips on the edge of the mug, sipping some of the foam from the top… and that’s when it hit him.
***
Memories of home flooded back, their clarity so sharp it was as if he were standing in the snow-covered fields of his homeland. The sharp winter winds blowing through his mane, the scent of the trees and the feeling of the snow falling upon his coat. Was this a dream? Some sort of illusion? He had just been in Mocha’s café and now he was back home, watching his family playing in the snow.
He then saw himself, only much younger, before he started his smithy training. He and his brother would play in the snow, throwing snowballs and making snow ponies. His parents would stand nearby, watching contently as their children played, happy and healthy.
He then remembered his first day training as a blacksmith, watching the Smithmaster pound away at the metal. The rings of each strike sounding like the most beautiful music he had ever heard. After years of hard work and dedication he had become an outstanding smith in his own right. He remembered the day he created his iron boots, his most prized creation. And the then he remembered the early morning that he boarded the boat bound for Equestria. The land of promise and the land of his future…
***
He closed his eyes as a gust of wind blew past and when he opened them again, he was back in Canterlot, back in Mocha’s café, and a single tear rolled down his chiselled jawline.
Mocha sipped her drink, satisfied with its taste. It could have been a little sweeter for her taste, but it was an enjoyable drink none-the-less. She looked to Ironshod to see what he thought and saw the tear. Was it that bad? Or did ‘that’ happen again?
“A-are you okay?” she asked. “Did I make it wrong?”
Ironshod shook his head as he regained his composure. Those memories had been so real, just what was it? “Sorry” he replied eventually. “I just got a little lost in thought, remembering home…” He looked at the drink and smiled. He had a feeling he knew what happened. “A drink so wonderful it brought out the memories of my heart…” He looked to Mocha and smiled, almost appreciatively. “You wouldn’t know anything about how that happened… would you?”
Mocha nodded, she was glad he wasn’t upset. “It happens from time to time,” she answered. “Somepony will drink one of my beverages and then get lost in memories, good memories. Sometimes they find an answer to question that’s been bothering them. Some find inspiration and others find courage.”
She took another sip of her drink. “No matter what they find, the result is the same. Like a great weight is lifted from their hearts… is-is that how you feel?” she asked.
Ironshod took a deep breath and took another sip. The memories weren’t as intense as the first time, but the fond nostalgia and the memories of his family doing well warmed his heart immensely. He nodded slowly and gave a smile that matched the warmth he was feeling. “I do feel… better,” he said. “I don’t know how, but I just feel better... Thank you.”
Mocha blushed a deep red and turned so he wouldn’t see. “That’s good then,” she said quietly. She moved the pot to the sink and filled it with water before moving on the brew a flask of Fire Brew for Silvermane. Fire Brew as made from a bean grown in volcanic regions and was very expensive, due to the dangerous conditions needed to grow it. It had a powerful kick that would knock the horseshoes of anypony that lacked the stomach to handle it. Silvermane was the only pony that ordered it regularly.
Ironshod finished his drink and waited while Mocha completed her brew, placing it in a magic flask that would keep the coffee at a consistent temperature.
“Shall we get back?” she said and Iron nodded, following the mare outside and back to the smithy.
***
Silvermane pounded the Mythril, weaving magic and pounding his hammer. He folded the metal and weaved more magic into it.
He looked up as Mocha and Ironshod walked in, deep in conversation. More surprisingly was the smile on Iron’s face. Silver grinned and placed his tools down, trotting over to greet them.
“You seem in better spirits boy,” he greeted them. “Somethin’ good happen?”
Ironshod nodded and smiled back. “Yeah, I feel a lot better now. Thanks in no small part to Miss Latte here.”
“I thought I told you to call me Mocha,” she playfully scolded him. Reaching into her saddlebags, she produced two thermoses of Fire Brew. “And these are for you Silver!”
“Och, ye spoil me lass,” he grinned widely, taking them gratefully. “I dinae expect ye back so soon though!”
“I still have a lot of orders to complete,” Ironshod said. “That will take me most of the night…”
Mocha nodded and fastened her saddle bags up. “Then I’ll leave you two to your work… I can bring you some dinner later if you want though?”
“I can’t ask that of ye.” Silvermane said. “We’re big lads, so I’m sure we can cook up sumthin…”
Mocha shook her head, “Sorry Silver,” she said. “You work wonders with metal and have a lifetime of great stories to tell… but I’ve had your cooking and it could bring a Hydra to tears.”
“Och, ye wound me lass!” he cried in a fake hurt tone. “Is me cookin really that bad?”
Mocha laughed and shook her head. “It’s okay, but I really do insist on making you something, okay?”
“Well I’ll not be one ta turn ye down, what about you laddie?” Silver admitted.
Ironshod shook his head. He had been working for Silvermane for a few days and he had to admit that the master metal smith was no chef. “I’ll not say no, as long as you don’t mind Mocha.”
“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise,” Mocha said. “Well I’d best get to work as well, a café is no good to anypony closed.”
She turned towards the door. “I’ll see you boys later,” and with that she left, leaving a faint scent of cinnamon wafting over the smell of the furnace and the sweat of hard labour.
“Aye, that lass is something else eh?” Silver said, turning back to his work. “Wouldn’t ye agree laddie?”
Ironshod nodded and looked at the smithy. “Would it be alright if… if I took tomorrow off?” he said. “There’s something I wish to do.”
Silvermane stroked his beard and nodded. “Ah dinne see why not. Sure, go for yer life laddie. This smithy aint goin anywhere.”
“Thank you Smithmaster!” Ironshod replied earnestly and headed back to his corner of the workshop. There was a lot to do before the morn but tomorrow was all he thought about.
***
Mocha actually skipped back to her café. Her mood was higher than the tallest spire of the castle and nopony was gonna dampen it. When she got back, a single mare was waiting. She had a grey coat and a charcoal black mane. A pink bowtie adorned her neck and she waved when Mocha approached.
“Welcome back!” Octavia greeted her and then noticed Mocha’s mood. “Looks like somepony has been having fun, you’re positively radiant.”
“I suppose,” Mocha giggled as she let them inside. “I guess something good did happen.”
“And you’re going to tell your good friend Tavi aaalll about it right? Octavia grinned.
Mocha smiled back and leaned over the countertop. “Well… it all began earlier this morning…” she began.
***
It was later that evening when Mocha returned to the blacksmith’s, her saddlebags full of homemade pasta and salad.
Silvermane was still hammering away at his spears, having made about half a dozen now. Ironshod was pounding away at something; Mocha wasn’t able to discern what it was.
“You boys hungry?” she asked, grabbing their attention immediately.
“Och, I’m famished!” Silver replied as Iron nodded in agreement. Mocha smiled and laid a blanket out onto a spare table and began levitating out containers of food. She set three plates out and piled them up with generous servings for the two smithies and a smaller one for her.
The food was delicious and very filling.
“Now that’s what I call good grub.” Silvermane said, patting his belly. “You’ll make some lucky stallion a fine wife lass.”
Mocha blushed and looked downwards as she packed the dishes back into her bag.
“Thank you for the wonderful meal,” Ironshod said quietly. “It was very delicious.”
Mocha turned an even deeper shade of red and shook her head. “No, um, it’s okay,” she stammered. “I was happy to do it…” She finished packing and fastened her bags. “I um, should get back to the café,” she said, “Can’t let Octavia watch the place for too long.” And with that she bowed politely and left, leaving Silvermane smiling and Ironshod a little confused at her hasty departure.
“Did… did I say something to offend her?” he said, confused.
“Nay lad,” Silver said, picking up his hammer. “You said all the right things, now let’s get back tae work.“
Ironshod was still confused, but she did look kinda cute. He went back to his work, and wondering what sort of surprises tomorrow would bring.