The Chase

Chapters

The Thunder Rolls
Standing Outside the Fire
The Dance
Learning to Live Again
To make you feel my love
The River

The Thunder Rolls

The trains to and from Appleoosa ran on time, thanks to careful land and rail management by the local buffalo, some of whom worked as pullers on the locomotives to supplement the usual earth ponies. All had the sustained long-distance stamina for the job. They kept the lines moving along and ensured a steady flow of citizens and goods into and out of what had once been a minor spot on a map. No matter the weather or time, there was usually something happening at the station.

The late night passenger line pulled into the station for the change of pullers, a quick inspection and the offloading of passengers, despite the powerful rain. It was a real torrent, coming down in punishing sheets that made the work miserable. At least there weren't that many passengers to be annoyed by it. There was just a small collection, including two who lingered on the platform under an awning after passing through a bit of the shower.

“It was very kind of you to take me out again,” Cactus Blossom the cafe au lait buffalo cow said, looking slightly down, “I do love to see so much of Equestria. It is so... vast! So varied and... wonderful.”

“It's a fine thing, darlin'. But ain't half so wonderful as you,” Sheriff Silverstar replied, leaning in to press against Cactus Blossom. They were in familiar territory again, but the mustachioed stallion knew there would be no stragglers in the torrent and the train folk would be on their way out. “This here rain is sure somethin', ain't it? Always seems ta come in heavy now and then.”

Cactus had been blushing heavily at the compliment, looking away from Silverstar before turning to him again at the conversation about the weather. “It is as it always has been. On the prairie it is typical to see such forceful showers, but seldom with such focus and precision. Our shamans could call the clouds reliably but they moved as they would. Now with pegasi we can work in harmony to give life to this land.”

“Yea. We surely can work together,” Silverstar noted, stretching out his drawl while snuggling Cactus against his chest again, while pressing a kiss on her neck. He filled his senses with the scent of her fur. The heavy coats of buffalo caught scents well, and most had become self-conscious about it. Cactus smelled like the powder fragrance made for buffalo, appropriately in the scent of cactus flower. Beneath, however, was the subtle musk of buffalo. He had become very familiar with that scent, and it was as entrancing as the powder fragrance.

Cactus let out a soft laugh, allowing herself to savor the close contact, and even return the snuggling press before firmly pushing Silverstar away. “Please... we are here. Even if none can see... they could. Let us part here.”

Silverstar nodded slowly and quickly leaned in for a soft kiss against Cactus' lips. “Alright, darlin'. We'll have some time together sometime. Tell Morton 'howdy' fer me.”

“I will do so. Please... try to be happy until then. Do not let the circumstances of life crush you,” Cactus said, reluctantly trotting away into the concealing curtain of rain.

Silverstar stood there, watching her vanish into the dark and rainy distance, smiling as long as he could see her. As soon as she was out of sight Silverstar's face fell and he was suddenly just a lonely stallion in the rain. He sullenly adjusted his hat and trudged his way through the dark town. He didn't have to worry. His weary hooves knew the way to his home far too well.

He could pick out the stark and imposing silhouette in the dark. He knew Cordelia would not bother being up for him. She wouldn't ruin her beauty sleep just to complain and demand he do something about the latest 'outrage' by the buffalo. He opened the door and slipped into the darkness, as he ever did, shaking the water from his coat and mane before he did.

He hung his vest, bandana and hat by the door, slowly stretching his limbs. He didn't want to wake Cordelia by just falling into the bed, but after all that travel he wanted a nice bit of relaxation back in his own bed. Train beds and benches only provided so much comfort, even with Cactus there to provide some extra softness. He resolved to just sleep on the couch and deal with the repercussions in the morning.

Before he could manage to sit down on the couch, there came a soft sound, a thumping hoof step in the darkness. A match scraped and threw light across the scene, the fire soon captured in the glass of a lantern. It illuminated the pale blue of Cordelia's face and the greenish tint of her mane under her white bonnet. “You're awfully late, aren't you?”

“Ya catch the train ya catch, Cordelia,” Silverstar said, somewhat surprised but trying not to let it show, “Ah don't control that. Ah'm lucky we got in when we did what with this rain comin' up like that.”

There was a small twitch from her on hearing the word 'we' but she let it pass, the lantern coming down as she moved closer to him. “It's all those buffs again. Why do they have to do their strange rituals and call up this rain. It's as though we were livin' in the savage Everfree. At least the pegasi can somewhat manage this deluge.”

“The way of the land, Cordelia. Gotta soak that grass thanks ta the soil they got. Them pegasi help get it where it's gotta go. They work together, not against each other,” Silverstar said, with a bit of fatigue, lowering his rump onto the couch and pulling himself onto it to get comfortable.

“By all means, defend the buffs and lump about while you have a perfectly good bed,” Cordelia grumped.

“Ah'm tired, darlin'. Ya may find it a surprise but travel ain't easy,” Silverstar retorted, perhaps a bit more sharply than he intended.

“Sittin', standin', sittin' again, yes, so terrible. Perhaps you wandered about in whatever city it was that you visited this time. Honestly, I came out to this distant place from Pericarp for you. I thought it would be just like home, lots of proper country pony folks. Then that Braeburn Apple had to start... I always heard that clan was trouble back home. The old Apple homestead still isn't sold, fine land and housing empty because folks are skittish. And now, now we've got those filthy Diamond Dogs skulking in the mines!” Cordelia shouted, bringing her face closer to Silverstar's.

Silverstar was an old veteran in the art of dealing with his wife's histrionics. He didn't react, he just sighed and settled more comfortably on the couch. “We want the best we can get in them mines, they make good bits when they pump out the salt an' ore. If them Dogs coax out them goods, well dang, ah hope they like it 'round these parts an' keep marryin' up or taking themselves mares and stallions...”

“What?!” Cordelia snapped, getting in Silverstar's face. “Talkin' about those Dogs gettin' themselves mares and stallions? First you were so happy about those lecherous buffs and now this... this isn't the stallion I thought I married.”

“It's me, Cordelia. Always been me...” Silverstar muttered, backed up all the way against the back of the couch. He should never have tried her rage with an editorial truth but it had just come out. Having so recently been with Cactus it was still on his mind.

Cordelia tried to comment but was stopped by a sudden flash of lightning and the rumble of nearby thunder. She growled lightly and shook her head. “All because of those rituals. It's not right. Why not be civilized and import clouds from one of the weather factories?”

“It all costs bits, wastes the time an' effort of folks that could be doin' other things that matter more. This is how they do it here, an' we gotta respect it,” Silverstar said, rising from the couch. “I'm goin' ta bed.”

“We don't gotta respect n-” Cordelia pushed in against Silverstar with the intent of sharply castigating him, as she always did when he got too 'native.' Her nose picked up something as she pressed close to him, right near his neck and face. Something far, far too 'native.' Another flash of lightning highlighted the disgusted rage in her eyes. “You...”

Silverstar stepped back a step, then set himself firmly against the anger he could see. “What's got inta ya, Cordelia, darlin'? Why ya lookin' at me like that?”

“You... are you one of those colt cuddlin' perverts? I smell that buffalo stink on you... I smell it from those buffs when they've been through the river. Wet buff and that deodorant powder they have at the store. Was it one of those bulls? Was it a cow?! What was it?!” Cordelia's hoof almost seemed to move in slow motion as far as Silverstar was concerned, but it hit his face with all the strength of a full speed swing.

Silverstar's head followed the hoof's path, his mustache deforming, a spray of saliva coming from his mouth after the hit. “Cordelia! Calm down. It ain't worth this kinda thing!”

“You tell me, Silverstar! Which hussy was it? Which one of them tempted you away?!” She struck him in the face again, then twisted to bring up a rear leg into the side of his barrel, just below the ribs.

“Ah! C-cordelia, stop!” He was a law enforcer, he was trained to fight, against stallions or mares. But... against his wife he was helpless. Like any Equestrian male he didn't have it in him to hurt her. He could just take it. A little blood sprayed out with the saliva as the kick knocked the breath out of him.

“Was it that Little Strongheart? She can't be faithful! She's just a schemin' buff stealin' stallions! Or that Tender Blade down at the carriage rental place? The cows at the salt mill? That shameless dancer at Morton's? Tell me!” Another flash of lightning created a momentary tableau of a raging Cordelia bringing her hooves down. She struck in the blinded moment after, striking tender belly flesh and Silverstar's face again.

Silverstar grunted out, coughing and gasping, looking up at Cordelia with the slightest hint of anger. “...Name's... name's Cactus Blossom... an' she's a good cow. She ain't shameless... she's a good gal...”

That did it. Cordelia not only landed a few more blows she shoved Silverstar's prone, pained form towards the door. She roughly opened it and gave Silverstar a parting kick, sending his body tumbling out off of the porch and into the muddy streets. Another flash of lightning illuminated the angry mare. “She's so good? Then go see if she'll care about you. I don't. Not now. You shamed me, Silverstar! And I won't have it!” With that the door slammed shut, leaving the fallen stallion all alone. It opened up for a short moment, his attire being tossed out onto him

The rain fell in fat, punishing drops, making every exposed sore spot on Silverstar's body hurt all the more. His bones were fine, but the soft spots on his flesh throbbed in agony. He slowly drew himself up out of the mud, groaning softly and shaking his head to regain some focus. The downpour, while it hurt him, at least cleared the mud out of his vision and off of his coat. He laid his hat on his head and his vest across his back before she slowly made his way down the streets.

It was still dark, misty and miserable along the Appleoosan streets, but if there was one thing he knew better than the path from the train platform to his house it was the way from his house to The Salt Block. His hooves led him along, while his mind was occupied with the sheer disbelief of what had just happened. He had always known Cordelia would have been mad. But to experience it first hoof... with hooves actually involved...

He wasn't subtle when he finally arrived. He slumped down against the doors that were shut behind the swinging doors to keep the place secure at night. After a little wincing he brought one hoof up and thumped it hard against one door. After a short rest he brought the hoof up and hit it hard again. “Morton! Open up! Morton!”

It took a little while but the doors opened up, showing the bleary face of Morton the bartender. “Sheriff? Why are ya..? Oh... Oh Sheriff...”

“Morton... ah don't mean ta put ya in a spot...” Silverstar made his stumbling way through the swinging doors, aiming for the stairs to the second floor, “But ah gotta stay somewheres ah got no right ta be. It's the only place...”

“Don't gotta say anythin', Sheriff,” Morton said with some concern, closing the large doors once more and locking them securely, “Ah ain't gonna keep ya from there. You got every right ta be where yer goin'.”

There were three floors to the place. The bar and entertainment space took up the while ground floor, while just above were various unoccupied rooms used as hotel space when there were many visitors. On the very top were a few larger rooms, one for Morton and one that was normally unoccupied, but which had become Cactus Blossom's home. Even though he had been there before, Silverstar remained a gentlecolt. He knocked at the door, though he leaned slightly against the frame, calling out, “Cactus Blossom darlin'? It's me, Silverstar.”

“Silverstar? What are you doing here? You were supposed to go home to...” Cactus opened the door and gasped as she saw Silverstar's face in the glow of a firefly lantern.

“Cordelia,” Silverstar finished, making his way into the room. “I did. You were right. I never shoulda held ya that close.”

“My dear... please let me tend to you. This is terrible. And all my fault,” Cactus said, taking down a small satchel filled with herbs and ointments.

Silverstar slowly shook his head and then went still as Cactus went to work. “Weren't yer fault. It was me. Ah always knew the time would come. Ah'd have ta have her find out. Ah wanted her ta know so we could get to it. And darlin'...”

“Yes?” Cactus asked, applying poultices to the tenderized areas.

“She knows. She knows...” Silverstar said, voice trailing into silence, the only sounds remaining being the rustle of bandages, the pattering of rain and the occasional crash of violent but retreating thunder.

Standing Outside the Fire

The nightmarish thunderstorm and monstrous rain had moved along over the course of the night, which meant that the rising shine of Celestia's dawn glowed beautifully through scattering clouds and heavy mist. The slightly-filtered light took a bit of time to slip through the windows and past the slats of blinds or the folds of curtains. Appleoosa got up a little later that morning, and was a bit more reluctant to do so, with the lazy, peaceful heaviness permeating the area, as it always did after a good storm.

The light passed through the beautiful curtains of the upstairs room that normally only held Cactus Blossom the buffalo lass. But that morning the sun crossed over the sight of a chaste but still-adulterous liaison. Sheriff Silverstar, still bandaged up with salve-covered pads and poultices over his battered and swollen form, slowly stirred, still held in the comforting embrace of Cactus. One eye slowly opened, looking at Cactus' peaceful, sleeping face. “Mornin', darlin'. Ain't the first one but sure is the first one here in Appleoosa.”

“You have a most resilient spirit,” Cactus noted, without opening her eyes, “Even after all that has happened you still find a way to be both amusing and charming.”

“Part of why ya love me,” Silverstar said with a chuckle, which made him wince a bit. “Guess Cordelia did a good number on me.”

“She was most unkind, yes,” Cactus said with a shake of her head, “To think that a pony, of all species, would abuse another in such a manner. She was so cruel...”

“She was surprised, to say the least...” Silverstar said quickly, looking away from Cactus when she turned to stare at him. “She had no reason ta think ah was anythin' but faithful to her. She couldn't tell ah... stopped lovin' her when ah figgered out jes how she felt 'bout... near everythin'.”

“She could not have possibly been so blind,” Cactus said, sliding out of bed and going to her medical supplies to prepare new wraps and herbal mixes. “You spoke at length to me... you said how she hurt your heart over and over, with hateful words on all species, and other ponies. How you stopped being intimate, how you refused to remain in the house longer than necessary...”

“Ah know. Ah know...” Silverstar sighed, slowly pulling his sore body out of bed and making his way to Cactus' side. “Nothin' too heavy. Don't slather it on or pack the bandages. Gotta be a little discreet.”

Cactus looked on Silverstar with some concern. “But you are injured and in pain. I cannot reduce the treatment because it might make ponies talk. Your health and comfort matter more to me than the whispers of others. That it matters so little to you worries and saddens me. No matter what you will be treated as you must.”

Silverstar gave a lopsided smile as the first slather of cooling herbal paste smeared across his hammered-on body. “Darlin', if ah knew more words like one-a them college ponies ah'd use 'em all up in a minute telling jes how ah love ya.”

“You need not say a word,” Cactus said, kissing Siverstar's cheek gingerly before applying a mesh bag of herbs, “I know your heart, you never shielded it from me, and I have seen your true love, that feeling beyond words.”

“If only ah could enjoy all that affection,” Silverstar lamented, looking at himself in Cactus' mirror, “But ah gotta be off. Gotta get back on mah rounds and home again.”

“What?” Cactus looked incredulously at Silverstar. “How could you go back there? Go back to her? She hurt you. Hurt you terribly.”

“Ain't the first time. Probably won't be the last. Oh sure, it was always breakin' mah heart an' not tryin' ta break mah bones, but it ain't so different. Hurts all the same,” Silverstar said, with a casually-dismissive wave of a hoof.

“To hurt your soul, yes, this is very terrible. It lasts and persists and stings over and over. But... an abusive foal can scar the soul, but wounds will stop the heart. I know this is a saying over all of Equestria,” Cactus noted, softly.

Silverstar sighed, rubbing at one of the sore spots on his body. “Yelling and verbal hurts won't kill ya... ah know. But she ain't gonna kill me. She's got too much pride, loves her image too much. She's a pony, she ain't that mean.”

“Her pride is why I fear for you. She does not love you, but she wants you. She needs to keep that image,” Cactus insisted, carefully pressing against Silverstar's side. “Do not leave here. I will cancel my performances. Morton will understand. We may lay in passion and sweetness and she will never hurt you again...”

“May last until tomorrow, but Morton ain't gonna be kind forever,” Silverstar said, leaning into the press, but moving away shortly afterwards. “Ah want nothin' more than what ya said... but ah need ta get home. Cordelia's waitin' fer me.”

“Yes... I fear she is...” Cactus turned tearfully away, stifling a sob and falling back into bed.

Silverstar paused at the door, after picked up his clothing, looking back at Cactus' stretched-out form, feeling a stab of emotion in his heart. It cut far deeper and promised to linger more than whatever pain Cordelia had put him through. “Ah will see ya again. Ah promise ya. Ah ain't gonna get taken away from ya, ever.” He pulled open the door and walked out into the Salt Block.

When he got to the downstairs area Morton was already behind the bar, setting up the plates for salt and the mugs for the various drinks. He turned to regard Silverstar with a smile, which became a wince. “Sheriff, ah sure hope that feels better than it looks.”

“Feels like Tartarus. Hope it's a sight better'n that,” Silverstar quipped, putting on a good-natured smile over his nervousness.

“Only just,” Morton replied, mostly seriously. “Ah don't need ta ask, but ah will. Will Cactus Blossom be down here?”

“She said she wanted ta keep me up there, fer love and ta keep me safe. She's cryin' her eyes out 'cause ah'm on mah way back ta Cordelia but...” Silverstar started.

“Yer what?” Morton cried. “Goin' back ta that ice-hearted Windigo? She rang yer bell and ah doubt she threw out the hammer. Yer crazy.”

“Maybe ah am, Morton. But ah gotta do the right thing. Ah gotta go ta her...” Silverstar carefully put his vest, bandana and hat on, adjusting the star on his chest. “It's a new day, Morton. She ain't gonna do nothin' ta me.”

“Ya know yer business, sheriff. Ah'll see if ah can get Cactus back down here ta try ta sing. Maybe one-a them old torch songs'll suit her mood. Ya know she's gonna cry her eyes out over ya 'til yer safe with her,” Morton said, practically scolding.

“Don't gotta tell me...” Silverstar softly answered, stepping out of the swinging doors into the light of the Appleoosan day. As he expected, there were hardly any folks on the street, mostly crews smoothing and flattening the street while also adding certain fillers, to get the pitted mud of the streets to dry into a harder surface. It was always powdered and crushed by the next storm, but in the interim it provided a surface that looked good and remained solid by being packed through regular traffic.

The folk out on the streets, workers or otherwise, all dropped cautious smiles and nods, discomforted by Silverstar's look. Only a few made any comment, primarily greetings, though one noted, “That was, uh, some storm, eh, sheriff? See it got to ya. Hope yer alright.”

“It was some storm. But ah'll live,” Silverstar replied, giving a smile as false as the one on the face of the speaker.

He walked, straight and proud in a big circuit around town. Appleoosa had grown beyond its simple origins because of the positive social and political reputation it had gained over time. Hobby farmers like the Bells set up decent homesteads, while the profitable mines, the fields of grass and grains and the famous orchard all needed workers, who all needed homes. It wasn't just a matter of winding through a few buildings, it could easily take all day to look into every nook and cranny.

He kept to a reasonable middle ground, circling around with the town proper to one side and the fields, homesteads, mines and prairie on the other. His normally steely eyes were watery and fixed on the ground more often than not. He was comforted by the fact that his distraction could not be of any harm to the town, thanks to the peace and security that usually reigned. Being mostly irrelevant had never been so comforting.

His casual patrol yielded no problems, and ate up time and energy. He was resolved to return to Cordelia, of course, but he knew very well that it was not likely to be a pleasant experience. He also had a job to do. As cursory of a job as he had done, it was completed, and in his state it was all he could manage. He had done very well with his meandering examination of town, ending his circuit at his own front door, just as intimidated by it as ever, knowing just what lay beyond.

Cordelia was sitting right in the front parlor, looking annoyed but giving a smile as she watched Silverstar enter. She was dressed in a fine red dress and a matching wide-brimmed hat. “Well, you took your own time returning, but I expected you would. I imagine you put in a good show, doin' your job and explainin' that you made a bit of a mistake. Good. Now, go get yourself ready.”

Silverstar was silent for a moment. He had so seldom seen Cordelia in anything but a bonnet. She had the dresses but reserved them for events that were common elsewhere, not in Appleoosa. “Beggin' yer pardon Cordelia... jes where do ya think ah'm off ta?”

“Why, you and I are off to that restaurant they finally put in town,” Cordelia said, adjusting her hat in a mirror. “True, you often see... those types I don't like in there, like that brazen hussy Clarion Bell and her husband, but it is the only proper place to see and be seen. And we must be seen. Even in that state, we have our appearances and reputations to stamp on the community.”

“Seems ta me ya made a mistake, Cordelia,” Silverstar said, with a calm and neutral tone. “Ah ain't sure what gave ya the idea that ah'd accompany ya there but ah ain't goin' nowhere with ya.”

“Is that so, Silverstar?” Cordelia inquired with annoyance, trying to push it down. “Then please, enlighten me, why did you return here if not to see me, apologize, and return to the way things had been, exactly as they were meant to be?”

“Ah did come ta see ya, of course. That was the right thing ta do. Ah owe ya that, fer all the years ya stuck by me. Fer all the yellin' an' hurts an' the hate ya had fer all them non-ponies. Ah owed ya the truth, and that's that ah ain't gonna be here any more,” Silverstar said firmly. “Ah'm strikin' out on mah own.”

“I see... well now, that is surprising...” Cordelia slowly trotted around the parlor, looking down to the ground, her face a neutral mask. “On your own, you say? All on your own? I suspect your little cow will be there with you.”

Silverstar grunted as though stricken, a small scowl crossing his features. “Don't talk 'bout her like that. Even if ya can't help bein' cruel, help it...” He shook his head and sighed. “It's true, ah'm goin' out on mah own. Ain't so shame in it. Ah'm a grown pony and a sheriff. Ah can surely live on mah own.”

Cordelia laughed, loud and coldly, shooting a steely look on Silverstar. “Really now? What a quaint notion, Silverstar. You're even more of a silly little yokel than I imagined. To think I believed you were reasonably sophisticated.”

“Y'all're from the sticks jes like me, Cordelia,” Silverstar noted, “And ya ain't ever said 'boo' 'bout yerself like that. What's the matter? Suddenly yer own homestead ain't good enough fer ya?”

“Oh no, it was certainly good enough for me. We had class and propriety there. We knew the way of the world and how to act properly,” Cordelia said with a sniff of superiority. “Don't throw your elected status at me, Silverstar. It is hardly a hereditary noble title, somethin' to flaunt. You had to be chosen. And while that country charm put you on the ballot it was my Pericarp bits and glad-hoofin' that put you in that job and keeps you there. I put you in this backwater as the law. It was me, and always me.”

Silverstar was quiet for a long while, looking thoughtful, and perhaps a trifle sad. “Ah understand it all, Cordelia,” He said at last, with a quiet but firm voice, “Ah thank ya fer all ya did, whether out of the goodness of yer heart or... whatever other reason ya had. Don't make no never minds ta me. It weren't easy ta live with all the hate, but ah thought... ya might get better...” He touched one of the poultices and looked sternly at his wife, “Never imagined ya could get worse.”

“Don't get self-righteous on me, Silverstar!” Cordelia shouted, taking a few steps towards her husband. “You cheated on me! Cheated on me with some no-status buff. And I can only imagine how long it has been going on. You made a fool of me with your bizarre tastes. I am not one to be made a fool, Silverstar. You have always been well aware of this. I deserve better and have always gotten it. You received a just payment for my humiliation. I will not hesitate to chastise you in exactly the manner you have earned, and I find no shame in it.”

“And that's why ah'm leavin', Cordelia,” Silverstar said, making to walk past her. “Ah jes need ta grab all mah things an' go. Ah won't take more'n what's mine...”

“You certainly won't,” Cordelia said sharply, placing herself threateningly before Silverstar. “There was one other thing which you happened to forget, Silverstar. This house is in my name. You had no objections when I did that. I thought you were being frugal, now I see you were merely being a fool.”

“So it is, so it is. Keep the place. Hope it serves ya well. But ah'm still takin' mah things...” Silverstar said, trying to carefully push past Cordelia.

Cordelia pushed him back firmly, giving him a hard glare. “Don't you understand? We may be wed and you may live here but the property is mine, alone. That is what the deed says, very clearly. That means that, without a great deal of legal wrangling, everything in this house is mine.” She very pointedly looked over Silverstar's battered body. “Everything is mine.”

Silverstar stared into Cordelia's eyes for a while, seeking any flexibility or kindness. He saw only cold firmness. A sigh poured out of his mouth. “Gonna be a bit before the circuit judge makes his rounds. And even if ah am the law in these parts, ah can't jes use it fer mahself like that. Ah'll take mahself out from under yer roof. Don't wanna get mixed up about what belongs ta who.”

“You would really do it?” Cordelia asked, disbelief permeating her voice. “You would walk out of this house with nothing?”

“If'n it means ah can walk out, yes ah will,” Silverstar said, simply turning away and letting himself out of the front door.

The Dance

Cactus Blossom knew she owed Morton a day of work. He was a kind and easy boss, not given to harsh demands or unreasonable requirements. He had seen Silverstar, just as she had. He knew what was happening and why she would have wanted to ask for the day to herself. He would have been good enough to give it to her.

She did not want to put him in that position, however. She was not the sort that would take advantage of a pony's good nature and simply remain inactive, no matter how much she was hurting. Silverstar had the physical pain, but her heart was filled with pain as well. She had been the cause. It was her mere existence, her being with Silverstar, that had made Cordelia batter him bloody. She still had the clotted gauze to prove it.

Cactus stared at herself in her lighted mirror, running a split hoof over her face. She remained mostly the same, her pale cafe au lait coat looking soft and well-conditioned, her ears slightly perked from a more neutral straight-out position, and the fur on top of her head smoothed and straightened down, a look she found very fetching and which Silverstar did as well.

Her eyes, however, were not as bright as they should have been after a wonderful trip into the wide world with Silverstar. She had gotten hardly any sleep at all. She had arrived very late, though did not regret a single moment with him on the train, and then had spent a good deal of time tending to his injuries. Even after both had gone to bed she had not slept well. She could feel his twitches and spasms when he pressed a sore spot in his sleep.

Like some buffalo she could feel close-range vital mana flow. When raw mana passed through a living being it carried small trace echoes that the sensitive could feel. She might have become a healer had she felt so inclined, but she had been drawn to performance. Her chants had been greatly praised and her command of the Equestrian language led her to strike out to Appleoosa.

As a healer she would certainly not have been in that sad state, staring into her own sleep-deprived eyes thinking about the horrible abuses visited upon a married stallion because she did not refuse when he asked her for a relationship. The fifth time. She had refused, outright, the first time. But he was persistent, and very convincing. He had explained the problems with his wife, and demonstrated them very clearly by having her listen at a window. Such terrible words... she had let herself feel the emotional suffering he endured, and was convinced because... of all the cows or mares or others he could have gone to, he went to her, and only her.

He was not some desperate, lustful beast, as some of the cows who had never met a pony said that stallions were. He was a tired, sad, pained creature, with a very good heart. He was filled with love, and wanted someone to receive that love. His wife was certainly unworthy of it. Cactus smiled despite herself, finding it an honor that she had been worthy of such attention from a sweet stallion.

He was a different pony with her. On his rounds he was gregarious and cheerful, of course. He had a ready smile and kind words for all that passed him by. Even in a more serious mode, when he had to exercise his legal powers he was stern and tough but very fair. He never punished out of proportion and he never let his personal relationships ruin the workings of justice and the stability of the town. With his wife he was... persuaded by duty to be kind, but the love had long left.

With her he was something else altogether. Funny, warm, tender, romantic, all the positives. But he could also be contemplative, deeply considering life and circumstance. He could be fearful, afraid of what could come or what had passed. He lay open before her, like a book, not a single secret kept hidden. She had read his spirit inside and out, and found every line beautiful.

She had been working on automatic while thinking of Silverstar and all that their relationship had meant to her. Her lips were painted and her cheeks powdered, her senses returning as she brushed the shadow onto her upper eyelids. She didn't want to go out there. She was determined to stay in and feel for Silverstar, and take a portion of the responsibility for his abuse.

She was half into her shimmering dress when she realized her sense of duty and honor was stronger than her weepy desire. She was not doing it because she did not care about Silverstar and his pain, but because she had to go on with life. They needed normalcy, as much normalcy as possible. It was the only way they could move on and get back to what they had come to know as their lives. She would need to be especially strong to support Silverstar in the time to come.

She appeared downstairs at the saloon, her headband sitting below the sparkling headband for her job, two regular feathers overpowered by the image of the three large, imitation ostrich feathers waving behind her head. “Hello Mister Morton. I am prepared for this evening. I do hope to provide an entertaining time as ever.”

Morton stood behind the bar, casually wiping the inside of a glass. He regarded Cactus with a bit of surprise. “Well now, Miss Blossom ma'am that's mighty surprisin'. Ah figgered ya'd be up there. Ya deserve the time ta yerself.”

Cactus nodded her head and gave a half-heated smile. “It is true, I am still sad about what happened... what happened because of me. But I cannot take advantage of your goodness. And Silverstar will need a strong shoulder on which to lean, one which still follows a normal life and can present that normalcy to him.”

“If ya say, ma'am. Ya know yer own heart. Stage is all yers fer now if'n ya need to practice,” Morton said, returning to his cleaning and preparation behind the bar.

“Thank you, sir,” Cactus said, nodding her head in Morton's direction and making her way up to the stage. She regarded the effectively-empty room and tried to imagine it full of slightly-rowdy mares, cows, stallions and bulls. They could sometimes ignore her, and sometimes give her greater focus than she thought possible of them. It was usually different each time she sang, and she had no way to know what she might get.

She changed her mental image, seeing the room as wholly empty, save for Silverstar sitting front and center, looking up at her. He always had a look on his face whenever she sang. This blissful look of peace and happiness. If the song was happy or sad or funny, it was always there, just behind whatever other expression might be present.

A song began to pour out of her mouth, bittersweet, but much more sweet than bitter. She kept her eyes closed, but focused on the image of the enraptured Silverstar. Audiences would come and audiences would go, she could not help that. But she had Silverstar. And despite what was happening, she would never wish that gone. There were too many happy memories, and any one was worth all that had happened.

Silverstar was back at his job, more or less. He had barely taken any time working up the courage to tell Cordelia they were through, and it was around lunchtime by the time all the emotions had stopped roiling. He made the executive decision to stop into the only restaurant in town, the one to which Cordelia had expected to be taken. It made airs at being pretentious and citified using the décor, like the chandelier and the lace doilies all over the non-seating areas, but everything else was very in keeping with the town.

“Afternoon, Sheriff,” Clarion Bell said pleasantly, nodding her dark-lavender-maned head towards Silverstar. She was seated at a table near the sheriff, along with her husband, buffalo brave Howling Gale-Bell. “I see you... got caught in the storm...”

“That's about the story that reflects the facts,” Silverstar chuckled. “Good to see ya both, Missus an' Mister Bell. Whereabouts are yer little ones today?”

“They're with a sitter. Sometimes getting out for a date is good, even if you're already married. Right, Sheriff?” Howling asked, with an innocent mirth.

Silverstar's smile twisted into a wry look and he slumped down a little bit. “Ya ain't wrong there, Mister Bell, ya ain't wrong...”

“So does that mean we will be seeing you and Cordelia here with some regularity?” Clarion asked. “The ambiance is wonderfully familiar, like the nice places in Hoofington, but the prices and cuisine are picture perfect for this town that has become my true home.”

“Y'all'll be seein' me here, no question,” Silverstar commented, taking up his menu and dragging his eyes over the choices. Barbecued vegetables of all types, salads of all sorts, and a vast panoply of desserts. He eventually ordered a modest lunch of barbecue, salad and a slab of the local apple pie, and took the time to think about his situation.

He was done, by and large. The life he had been enjoying... the life he had been tolerating with the help of adultery was over. It was always meant to be over, he had promised Cactus that he would tell Cordelia and lower the boom on himself. Perhaps if he had actually done it and not waited for Cordelia to figure out for herself with Cactus' scent on him there would have been less abuse, though just as much screaming.

A slight twitch in the sore part of his body managed to tweak the lingering pain. Cactus had patched him up fairly well; she was a decent healer. However there was still plenty of bruising, some small cuts, and miscellaneous pain that lingered on. He had brought it on himself, and in some way, deserved it. He had been cheating on his wife, and that was wrong. Even with a reason it was wrong.

He had the right to divorce her, as rare as such a proceeding was in Equestria, and could present plenty of reasons that would make the severance quick, though there would be rancor from her no matter what. Acrimony was part and parcel of Cordelia's nature, and there was nothing to be done about it. He would give her as few reasons as possible to be bitter. He would not ask for alimony, even if it was his right.

To think about it, her comment about his position was not an idle threat. Cordelia had financed his initial campaign, and done lots of glad-hoofing, like he did. Her money was indeed behind him. Though now the population of Appleoosa knew him and genuinely liked him. He could rely on his name... until they found out he had been cheating on Cordelia. She would likely float her own candidate, and see how it went. He could be looking at the end of his job, what his Cutie Mark indicated was his perfect match.

As his lunch arrived he further considered it would be the last meal out he could get. Until the circuit judge arrived his personal money was going to have to suffice for all he needed. He was at least certain he could sleep in the sheriff's office. It might get awkward but the whole situation was threatening to be awkward. From the moment he pressed his hoof to Cactus' split hoof it was barreling down to a situation just like the one in which he found himself.

“Cactus...” Silverstar mumbled to himself before scraping his teeth down some barbecued corn on the cob. His job, his home, his property were all on the line. Cordelia held his future in the frog of her hoof. But he had Cactus. He had her love, her concern, her mind and her body. She held him just as securely and with as much significance. Through all the problems ahead they could count on one another. He was sure, after what he had seen last night and that morning. Her tending to his wounds and being concerned about his going to see Cordelia showed she would be there.

As he started in on the apple pie he was smiling, in spite of the looks and whispers that had started circulating through the dining room. He was in line to lose a lot, either for a while or for good. But he wasn't losing what had come to matter most in his life. Cactus would be there for him. Together they could get through anything. No matter the pain it had cost, she was worth it all and more.

Cordelia had cast aside her attire, something she seldom did. She was also not much into labor; she had been born to reasonable wealth. She, however, had to swallow her pride and keep up some appearances. A good faith gesture on her part might reduce the alimony she would have to pay. She knew that the law would be on Silverstar's side, not just because he was part of it but also because he was a stallion, and in the very rare cases of divorce stallions were treated well. Their low numbers served in some respect.

Just because her gesture was good faith didn't mean that she was interested in good will. She was extremely incautious with her handling of his items. She stuffed his vests and extra hats into burlap sacks, practically punching them down to the bottom. She was beating him all over again, in a manner less likely to be questioned in court. She had a reason! But... mitigation was a hard sell. Even Prince Blueblood had needed egregious bigotry to sell his defense.

The Prince was hardly what would be considered 'proper' in a place like Pericarp. Ponies recalled propriety, even if none said it. None had to speak it out loud. They lived it and held in their hearts. There were rules, certain modes that never changed, however things might have in other areas. True, it made the place increasingly irrelevant but none could deny the grace, style and charm of the county.

Cordelia's angry packing halted when she found an album of photos in the back of Silverstar's closet. The book looked like it had lain untouched for quite a while, though it was not uncared for. It had been carefully wrapped in clean linen and carefully placed on a spare pillow. The photos within were all about their courtship, wedding and life in Pericarp.

She smiled despite herself. There was a photograph of her family, and the old plantation. They had had to give it up, after the ascension of the Apples. The family history was very clear about it. It hardly mattered. The plantation-type farms had been losing out for practically a century, with a 'heyday' that lasted for about a decade. Nothing but a failed experiment relegated to rural areas like Pericarp.

But when they had worked... that was the way of Pericarp, and the way of her thinking. She remembered the traditions. They had worked. They could still work, with effort, with dedication, with devotion to the ideal. It could produce uncomfortable situations, which she knew very well. Even out of the county and in a distant frontier she was still in the shadow of the Apples. And to watch one of that cursed bloodline flaunt about with a buff made it more galling.

More turns of the page showed other photographs from a time before she had met Silverstar. It was doubly nice. She could revel in the nostalgia, the sight of her family and home, but she could also remember that at one time Silverstar had been proud of her family, had enjoyed their ways.

Further pages showed him, the dashing, even more strictly-rural stallion. He was straight out of the much less 'refined' sort of environments. While the Pericarp folk disdained the 'city' ponies as hopelessly out of touch with propriety they were over the less educated or polished rural dwellers. The whole county occupied an enviable position, diluted, as ever, by the children of Eugenia and Adam, some of whom went to the likes of Manehattan, some of whom degenerated into mere mud-gouging farm-toilers.

Their courtship was lovingly recounted. She had been charmed and smitten with the guileless and earnest Silverstar, taken in by his quaint ways and plain speaking. It was certainly a change from what she knew. He had that way about him. She had not been lying about his country charm. For a nothing yokel with aspirations to law enforcement he could be remarkably engaging. She had fallen for it easily.

She had been happy with him once. She knew she had been so pleased with herself for grabbing Silverstar when she did. She had thought him the perfect stallion, just the right sort of stallion to support in a bid for an important position like sheriff. She should have looked into the details. Stuck under the hoof of Apples again, Brown Betty's family mostly. Dragged out to the real sticks, to a dusty nothing where the uncouth peasants lived. But that wasn't what truly altered her feelings. Ponies in love who maintained appearances could make any unwashed heap bearable. It was all the implications he had made, before spitting it out directly to her.

He had talked of hurt and hate, of her inflicting such on him and spreading disdain for non-ponies. It was the way of the world, the way of her home. She had learned it and would not trade it for anything. There was order and rightness. Silverstar seemed like he knew it. But no, from the start, it had been 'donkeys this' and 'griffins that.' He even took the side of Roa. And in Appleoosa, the buffs and the dirt Dogs. Maybe that had cost her the love of Silverstar. But it was his fault, always had been, always would be. He had misrepresented himself. He had changed, and she would not.

The wedding photos at the end, with all the smiling ponies and cheerful expressions told her what their life used to be. The appearances, the supposition, the image. Everything she venerated. It was all there, pure and perfect. It had not lasted, Silverstar had betrayed the proper way, being unsatisfied with the relationship and moved to... some buff.

It was also the fault of the wider nation. She had lost her husband, would lose face and standing in the community and have to deal with needless uncertainty. But even so, she would treasure those ways, those wonderful, pony-supporting ways. The old ways were disdained by the rest of the world but held as precious by her. It was trash to everypony else. But treasure to her.

Learning to Live Again

Silverstar stirred lightly in his sleep, dreams of every kind of life he could have had turning into a swirling mish-mash of a reasonable Cordelia and a Cactus Blossom that had been his wife all along. Everything faded eventually, as sunlight slanted across his face and he groaned loudly while pulling himself up onto his side. His body was not happy with him, having grown used to the soft, large expanse of his shared bed at home.

He slowly rose from the pile of blankets he had placed behind his desk at the Sheriff's Office, with the lumpy spare pillow he had managed to find. He didn't feel like doing anything, with that stiffness that had crept down into his bones. However, he was no shirker and would not tolerate a dirty workspace. He had done the bed-making and other such things at the house, of course. Cordelia would never deign to do such a thing.

After the makeshift bed was put away he began the process of cleaning himself up as best he could managed in the office. The shower was passable though he didn't have time to boil the water, leaving him scrubbing up under a frigid stream. He tended to his facial hair with the same cold water, trimming the hair around his mustache and waxing it up as best he could.

He didn't look a mess, but he was not his usual put-together self. His eyes were bagged and red, he still had a few of the bandages and he was stiff from the bad bed and his bruises. His pride moved him out the door and to his rounds, or at least a short walk around the center of town, with his proper head-high dignity, however he may have looked. The nods and smiles were the same mix of genuine friendliness and uncomfortable understanding. It was far more uncomfortable for him, however. He knew what they could not suspect. He was starting over from nothing.

He had thought of that the other day, but the reality was aching in his joints and the memory of a shivering-cold shower. He'd have to get along as a single stallion, something that he hadn't had to to manage for many a year. Certainly, he had been out of love with Cordelia for a good portion of that time, a distant, virtual stranger, not sharing in her views. He had never had to worry about being alone at night, even if the company was not what he wanted, he had not needed to think about any of the things that single stallions had to.

To consider it, he was not a single stallion. He was Cactus' one-and-only. But he was a single stallion. He was honest in his intention to divorce Cordelia, and the whole town would have to know. He would need to tell the whole population, because of their prominence and the gravity of the rare legal activity. His adulterous activity would cover Cactus with a pall of shame and impropriety if he made any move towards her before he was legally severed.

It would be best for all if he made an announcement as soon as possible, in the newspaper and in public, to cover all the possible ways of stating it. Cordelia could respond or she could not. That was her right. He was fairly certain she would not. She would not want any more attention on herself than she already would have.

As Silverstar stepped back towards the of the front door of the station after a quick round of the town he was confronted by a large buffalo bull wearing an Equestrian Postal Service cap. The brownish fellow was smiling brightly and had several sacks slung over his back. “Sheriff! Just the stallion I was looking for. I have some stuff for you. Your wife had this stuff shipped from your house over to the Salt Block of all places. I have no idea why she thought you would be there but Morton sent me here. I need a signature.” The smiling bull pulled a clipboard from his shaggy coat and handed over a graphite stick with bite guard.

“Ah know perfectly well why she sent it out there...” Silverstar grumbled. He signed the paper and passed stick and clipboard back. He let a smile spread across his face, not wanting his foul mood to affect the other fellow. “Thanks. Ah... guess she weren't none too happy ta see ya trottin' up ta make the delivery.”

“She was oddly surprised,” the bull confessed, scratching the side of his neck after putting away his clipboard and graphite stick. “I told her they sent me because of the amount to be delivered. She didn't even tip me! Even after I promised a rush job.”

“That's mah Cordelia, fer now...” Silverstar muttered. He shook his head and reached into his bit pouch, pulling out a few coins and passing them off. “There ya go. Thanks fer yer hard work.”

“No trouble at all, Sheriff!” The bull said cheerfully, hiding the coins away in his fur and carefully unloading the sacks onto the porch of the station. “Wish I could stay but I might be needed for more runs at the post office.”

“No, no, ah understand completely. Thanks fer deliverin' this, yer doin' a good job,” Silverstar said, slowly hauling the packed bags through the front door.

“Not a problem Sheriff. Have a good day!” The buffalo gave a smile and stampeded away towards the post office.

“Gonna be a long day. Good's still in the air,” Silverstar muttered as he opened one of the bags up and found it packed with wrinkled clothes and crushed hats. “Ya always got a way ta show yer Pericarp will, don't ya, Cordelia? Never say a word but ya always get heard loud and clear...”

It took Silverstar around an hour to drag in the bags, open them all up and sort things out. He put his wrinkled clothes in appropriate piles, pushed his hats back into some semblance of shape and set them aside, and put the small collection of miscellaneous personal effects like toiletries in inconspicuous places, to make it less obvious that he was living in the station. It was a galling next phase to his day, after an already-inauspicious waking. He held out few prospects for reaching that 'good' day.

He hid his clothes, spare hats and other items as best he could, in case anyone stopped by the station for whatever reasons. His day was delayed, by a good amount. He hadn't even had a good cup of coffee, never mind breakfast. The one thing Cordelia could manage and did not see as 'beneath' her was cook and make coffee and tea. She considered it an art, and enjoyed showing off. It was always good for him, providing a varied and delicious experience.

As though adding insult to injury Silverstar's stomach gave a rumble and he quickly looked down with a scowl. “Ah didn't ask fer yer input, ya traitor!” After giving his midsection a light thump he set off again, turning his hooves towards the Salt Block.

“Mornin'! Welcome ta... oh, Sheriff...” Morton's face fell from his usual bartender smile to a more serious look. “You look good. Guess Cactus patched things up right.”

“As ah expected, Morton. That cow's got magic hooves when it comes ta healin' a hurtin' pony,” Silverstar said, sauntering to the bar and resting against it.

“Certainly seems to be the case,” Morton said significantly, before lightening his tone. “What can ah do fer ya, Sheriff? Ah ain't got mah stock up an' set yet...”

“If'n ya can spare a cup of coffee an' some vittles that'll be fine. Ah, uh, didn't have the luxury-a havin' Cordelia's breakfast like ah normally do,” Silverstar said, shyly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ain't got much but it's yers. Only neighborly,” Morton said, reaching down behind the bar to pour out the last of a pot of coffee into a cup, adding a few cubes of sugar before hoofing it off. He also passed along a small plate of coarse bread and a side of timothy hay. “Sorry it ain't much.”

“More'n ah had before ya offered,” Silverstar noted, setting to eating, unashamed of his hunger and eagerness.

“I gladly would have prepared you a meal, had you asked,” Cactus said, from the far part of the bar, having just come down the stairs. “I know your likes in the morning. And... it would have been only proper and kind.”

“Didn't wanna impose, darlin'. And...” Silverstar took a long, slow sip of the lukewarm coffee while he considered his words, “Ah... ah think it's fer the best if... ah didn't see ya after today.”

Cactus didn't visibly react, standing stock still as if completely paralyzed. “I... will not say that I understand. But you have your reason, I am sure. I want you to be happy...”

“Ain't gonna make me happy. It's gonna eat mah guts out like a Windigo and if ah smile it won't last fer long. But it's what ah gotta do,” Silverstar said, solemnly, sipping his coffee again. “Gonna put the word out. Message in the paper, call out in town square, get the papers all legal and notarized an' all that. Until that circuit judge gets here ah gotta make it look right. Ah'm a single stallion, an' that's gotta be all ah am. Can't be seen with ya. Ah'd ruin yer reputation. An' ah'd never do that to ya. Ah promise.”

“I thank you, most sincerely,” Cactus said, a sad smile crossing her face. “I know you think you owe me much for comforting your hurts. Perhaps you have some debt, but I will never hold you to such a painful cost. I will accept the whispers of others. I am proud of my love for you and the closeness we share.”

“Ya surely know jes what ta say...” Silverstar sighed, smiling lovingly. “But please let me do this. Ah want ya ta have an easy life. It won't be long. Once it all comes off we can be together. We can be more'n together, and that's what ah'm aimin' fer.”

“So... I will accept this. But know that I will be just as sad as you. Then will I see you in the audience?” Cactus asked hopefully.

“Can't very well leave out any of mah routine. Ah'll be here, darlin'. Promise,” Silverstar said with a smile and nod.

Cactus nodded her head and daintily trotted her way towards the stage, to prepare and rehearse as she usually did. “Thank you. I look forward to seeing you.”

Silverstar returned to eating and thought back on the kindly bull wishing him a good day. It had taken a bit but he had made it there.

After his simple but surprisingly spirits-lightening breakfast Silverstar felt a bit more confident about his day's activities. He made his way into the office that housed the local paper, the Appleoosa Bell-Telegraph. The circulation was modest but at least they had all the local households, as well as some regular readers in the buffalo lands. Despite being a rural paper they did all they could to keep up with news from the other parts of Equestria, making them a most important fount of information.

The office felt a bit cramped, packed into a standard storefront as it was and having to do so while also containing the printing press and supplies of paper and ink. There was already the steady click of typewriters going as the few reporters got their leads ready or looked over the thamatoelectric teletype for interesting bits of news. The editor was First Edition, a portly gray unicorn fellow with a striking blue mane and a deep, large smile that always creased his fat face and made him look all the more friendly and approachable. He stood behind the front counter, ever the hooves-on type. “Sheriff! Good morning to ya!”

“It finally is at that, First. How have ya been? How's yer wife and young'uns doin'?” Silverstar asked, trotting up to the counter.

“Oh fine, fine. Evening still loves it here and is so glad we left Manehattan. The kids are doing well; I think that my little Honeysuckle is getting a bit sweet on Topaz down at the mine. What can I do for you today, Sheriff? Here to renew for another year?”

“Ain't such a bad idea to add a delivery to the station...” Silverstar mused, lightly jangling his bit pouch before he shook his head. “Nah, it ain't that, First. Ah've got... somethin' big fer the society page. It ain't too pretty but it's the truth.”

“A big story on the society page? I can only imagine. Are some fancy folk coming into town? Important ponies or others? Perhaps a visit from some of Cordelia's kin or county-folk? That would be... wonderful...” First's huge smile couldn't hide the dripping disdain in his voice.

“It ain't nothin' like that, but it's all 'bout Cordelia all the same. Ah know ya noticed all this bandagin' and such. Ya heard the rumors. It ain't a lie. She threw me out. So now ah'm makin' the announcement. Ah'm gonna...” The words, even though they were by his will, stuck for a moment in Silverstar's throat, “Gonna divorce Cordelia.”

The clattering of typewriters keys halted abruptly, as every reporter turned to look, to see if they had heard right. First was looking somewhat surprised but not entirely shocked. “I must say that is a very rare and serious decision. But seeing you, and hearing what I heard... I can't say that I think it's wrong. Do you have any more... particular statements you'd like to make for inclusion in the paper?”

“Nah... it's hard enough jes doin' this. Get the word out there, make sure folks know it. That'll be enough...” Silverstar said, turning to leave the office.

“Of course, of course. It should be out in the evening run. I'll run it again for the morning paper as well. Uh, good day, Sheriff...” After Silverstar had left First turned to his reporters and barked out, “You heard him! Somepony get on that! Find a stock photo where he looks good, I want big type. Make it clear that this is serious. He's been good to us, let's give this the attention it deserves!”

While First was moving his staff to work on the big announcement, Silverstar was about to go do his own bit of announcing on the very same subject. It wasn't strictly necessary, but he knew some folks just plain skipped the society page, despite it being the heart of the community.

His presence attracted a lot of eyes, as well as a few soft whispers. He stopped in the center of town, by the mayor's office where he had once made a memorable stand during the ridiculous war of the pies. His tongue peeked out, licking his chapped lips and taking away a bit to much gritty dust for his liking. He could have used a drink but he couldn't stop. “Friends... ah've got... an announcement ta make. It ain't usual, and it ain't purty, but ah've gotta get it out.”

He licked his lips again, now finding all eyes on him, and folks emerging from buildings in order to see what it was all about. He was no great orator but he was at least comfortable with attention. “Ya seen how ah've been goin' 'round,” Silverstar continued, casting his eyes across the gathered, “Battered up, lookin' miserable. It ain't worth relatin' the whys an' wherefores... but this is the heart of. Ah'm aiming on... divorcin' Cordelia.”

Silverstar couldn't speak for a moment. The direct announcement had created a bit of a hubbub, ponies and buffalo and the odd Diamond Dog talking animatedly and occasionally pointing either at him or towards his home. “Settle down, this ain't over,” Silverstar said, motioning for quiet. “Ah gotta go draw up the papers an' such, and ah gotta wait for the circuit judge ta come in here but... well, ah ain't livin' with Cordelia anymore. Now that's all ah gotta say. Thank ya kindly.”

The conversations resumed as soon as Silverstar closed his statement, with a bit more volume and a few folks openly talking about scolding the mentioned mare and removing her from social events. Two of the figured in the town did not need to talk. Clarion Gale-Bell look at her husband, Howling, and motioned her dark-lavender-maned head towards the retreating Sheriff. The huge buffalo nodded in understanding before they both set off in almost the opposite direction.

Silverstar had skipped lunch. His stomach had been satisfied by the meager meal warmly shared by Morton, and even if it hadn't been it ended up too full of knots and butterflies to hold any lunch anyhow. His guts had twisted and the flapping moved in when he stepped into the office of Balance Beam, the town lawyer. The place only needed one and she fit the bill.

She was an older mare, on the edge of elderly, another transplant, from Canterlot of all places. She wasn't retired but relished the relaxation that came of a town not often in need of legal services. She was a pegasus with a soft fawn coat and graying roan mane, and a rather cheerful disposition most of the time.

She had been grim and serious during the talk of divorce. She got the information, and dutifully crafted a document to Silverstar's liking. She had tried to float many things, including heavy alimony, but that had been turned down. Her good nature made her capitulate and she drafted the document as requested.

She promised it would be served to Cordelia with all due speed, well before the judge arrived. She had just let Silverstar walk out, with his belly of knots and butterflies, while trying to say comforting, encouraging things but finding her usual stock of words oddly absent.

Silverstar retired in mid-afternoon to the station. Patroling around would be useless. He'd be hounded by questions and crowded by well-meaning folks trying to get more information or angling to offer advice and comfort. He mostly wanted to sit at his desk and relax, try to pretend things were normal, even if they weren't.

He had just started in on a game of Solitaire when the office door opened slowly, perhaps cautiously. One dusty-orange hoof tapped on the door as Clarion Gale-Bell stepped in. “Knock-knock! I do hope I am not disturbing you, Sheriff,” the unicorn asked. She was followed in by her buffalo husband, who looked a little sheepish but otherwise normal.

“Ain't much to disturb, Missus Gale-Bell. It's another fine and quiet night out here in our town. Ah was jes... doin' a bit of recreatin' ta pass the time. Ah might consider another lil walk around town but then, ah might not,” Silverstar said, self-consciously hiding the cards, as though ashamed of his idleness.

“So I see. As long as you're keeping yourself busy, Sheriff,” Clarion said with a soothing voice and a warm smile. She lightly nudged a hoof against Howling, motioning to the sheriff with her horn.

Howling nodded and put on a large smile. “Say, Sheriff... I know you're probably kind of busy but, you know, Clari and I would just love to have you out for dinner. Our treat. Just to thank you for always doing such a good job.”

“Well now, ain't you the nicest couple-a folks in Appleoosa?” Silverstar said with a smile and a cheery tone. He slumped a moment later thinking of his situation. “Ah'm not rightly sure if ah can make it or not...”

“Sheriff, I will speak with frankness, as I often do,” Clarion said, trying to maintain her gentle and comforting tone while also looking very serious, “We don't want you moping around in your office. We heard the announcement and, well, we thought it would be good to take you out to ease your mind and keep your spirits high.”

“We have a sitter again, we have reservations for three, and we just want to be nice, Sheriff,” Howling noted.

Silverstar tapped a hoof on his desk, considering the generous offer. “Ya know... ah'll take that offer ah suppose. Long as y'all don't mind some wrinkled clothes. Ain't exactly got an ironing board here.”

“Anything you wear will be perfectly acceptable, Sheriff,” Calion responded, with a bright smile. “Come on, Howl. Let's let him get ready.”

“'Bout what time should ah be there? Few minutes? Half hour?” Silverstar asked.

“Reservations are at eight, but you can be a little late,” Clarion called back before she and howling left the building.

Silverstar thought about it. Eight. That was getting on in the evening. He had promised to watch Cactus. He couldn't cancel, it would be impolite, and he didn't want to barge into the Salt Block to converse. It would set folks to talking. He was a bit stuck.

Despite his misgivings, Silverstar dressed in a nice, if wrinkled, white shirt and black jacket, waxed his mustache again and set off for the restaurant at around the appointed time. He arrived slightly after eight, gave his name at the front and was happily escorted to a table with the Gale-Bells. “Well now, here ah am.”

“Punctual. You're a good stallion, Sheriff. I don't know if we folks around here tell you enough,” Gale said, smiling warmly across at Silverstar. She could see he was trying so hard, with his unprepared attire and plastic smile.

“You've always been good to the tribal folks, and that's what really makes a good guy,” Howling added, nodding his huge head to indicate the case was closed.

Silverstar gave a deep, sincere chuckle at the two declarations and nervously ran a hoof along his mane. “Thank ya both kindly. It's good ta know ah'm bein' the kinda stallion ah can respect. Sometimes ah'mmm jes not sure what ta think of mahself. Not with this... business...” Silverstar suddenly found the menu laying before him the most engrossing sight in the world.

Silence passed between the three while Howling and Clarion made motions, each trying to induce the other to speak and break the awkwardness. Clarion finally spoke, likewise looking to her menu. “We have not ordered, we were waiting for you. I think I should suggest something. Let us have a full dinner, multiple courses, let the evening take its time. It's not good to be alone, Sheriff. Not like this.”

He wasn't alone, not really. Not at all. But he was, however he wanted it to not be so. “It's mighty kind of ya ta take this much trouble but ah don't think ah oughta take up yer time and keep ya from yer young'uns. Ain't right ta make a sitter stay all hours on mah account. Ah ain't worth the trouble,” Silverstar demurred, looking to his hosts with a smile.

“It's no trouble. Like I said, you've been good to us. And while I have no idea what a divorce is like- ow!” Howling looked quickly at Clarion, who was glaring sharply at him. He rubbed his kicked leg and went on, “I know what being alone and hurt is like. Clari and I we... had that before she got out there and told everyone. So... we just want you to not have to go it alone.”

Such good, well-meaning folks. “Thank ya, both of ya. Yer certainly makin' me happy,” Silverstar said. In the back of his mind, though, he knew he had somewhere else to be, a very important somewhere else. She could be on stage at that moment and he was missing her. But he couldn't just leave.

Clarion motioned to a waiter, to trotted up smartly and levitated a pad and pencil. “Tell the kitchen we will need to be served in courses. Now we will open with the squash soup, and the fried grits as an appetizer.”

Over at the Salt block the evening was going as it usually did. Drinking, salting, a bit of gambling and some attempts at making a love connection, all happening under Morton's grim and watchful eye. For entertainment there were the usual well-dressed dancers as well as live piano music. Cactus was supposed to sing, but she hadn't, even when accidentally announced.

“Cactus... ya said you would be singing, and these folks have been waiting all night,” Morton said to Cactus after she missed another opportunity to sing. “Yer putting some strain on the gals.”

“I am very sorry, Morton sir, but I... I cannot bring myself to... not until Silverstar is here. He promised me he would come, and he would not lie to me. He will be here.”

“I know him ta be a good stallion, that's fer sure...” Morton said, head slowly shaking as he sighed. “But it's gettin' late. One more go-round and then ah really, really would prefer it if ya got up and sang.”

“He will be here, he will,” Cactus insisted to a skeptical Morton. As he walked away she looked through the crowd and softly repeated, “He will...”

The hour grew later, and there was another cycle of dancing and solo piano playing. When the time came Morton gently motioned toward the stage. “Can't put it off no more. Please... ah know ya wanna wait but...”

“No, I understand. I will sing,” Cactus said, her eyes downcast. She slowly made her way onto the stage, to raucous cheers and applause. The piano pony picked a song, something soft and quiet that matched her low mood. As ever, her rich, moving voice filled the bar, silencing all the crowd.

A small amount of noise at the entrance drew her attention and her song caught in her throat for just a moment. He was there. Silverstar, wearing some fancy duds, was there with Clarion and Howling. The married couple were setting up at the bar, but Silverstar... he made his way through the sea of transfixed listeners and got as close as he could to her, looking up with adoration.

Cactus stopped singing and motioned towards the piano player, asking for a higher tempo. The stallion delivered and she broke out into a high and glorious song, a cheery tune of pure delight, happiness and love. It set the crowd to cheering and stomping. Even Howling hooted for her before Clarion gave him a withering look and he snuggled up tight against her side.

Silverstar never moved, and he didn't react. He just kept that same, wide, sincere smile on his face, looking lovingly at Cactus while she belted out her tune. Cactus looked down and kept her gaze there. No one seemed to notice or care she was ignoring them, that she was performing for an audience of one.

To make you feel my love

Silverstar stared at the calendar, willing the days to change. He also stared at the image of a collection of morning glories photographed at the Royal Canterlot Botanical Gardens. He was getting a bit hungry as the day stretched towards noon, but he was more interested in the date. A line of red X's ran from the day he had been thrown out by Cordelia, aiming for a red circle, the arrival of the circuit judge. A small gulf of unmarked days ran between the last X and the circle.

“This never wouldda happened some place with a steady judge. But, can't complain too much. It's gonna happen...” Silverstar muttered to himself, pulling his eyes away from the division and back towards his office. He had not been very successful in hiding that he lived there.

His clothing hung about, in various states of dryness, or in various states of wrinkling. His spare hats were hung all over, as though he had half a dozen guests in for tea. His trinkets such as carvings and small statues were all over the place. He had personalized the station so much he could practically lay out a welcome mat and just start calling it his home.

He gave a sigh and a shrug. There was nothing to do. The reality was as it was and he was rather well stuck with it. He was rather well stuck with a lot of things. A sudden pang stabbed through his gut as he considered one of those things. He was still severed from Cactus. He hadn't felt the brush of her fur or the tender softness of her lips for over two weeks. He still heard her voice, he was a regular at her performances, but it almost seemed to make the separation more painful.

It was different, he reflected, than the times before, when their relationship had been just as clandestine but he was still at home. He was sometimes away from her for days at a time, sometimes even missing her performances to keep Cordelia in the dark. However, he knew what the real difference was. At that time, had he wanted to, he could slip out to Cactus's side and love her all he wanted. They could leave town and come back, and there was almost nothing to it.

With the eyes of the town on him and all attention given to his every contact he couldn't do that. His abstinence from the pleasure of her company was absolute. His honor would not permit him to break the painful promise he had made to her, to preserve her reputation until he was legally separated. He'd need to tough out the lack of her split hooves running across his cheeks or down his back, her feather-light kisses, the whispered nothings tickling the cup of his ear...

His shower was still mostly cold, even in the middle of the day, and it set his head back on right. He couldn't just keep thinking about her. He'd wind up making flower crowns with Discord in no time. He needed every distraction possible, and he had exhausted most all of the ones that presented themselves.

He liked evenings out with Clarion and Howling. They were really a nice couple, but he had imposed on them more than enough. They needed nights in with their children. He'd had a few nice lunchtime conversations with Braeburn and Little Strongheart, when she wasn't carving and he had some time off from the orchard. Another nice pair but he was uncomfortably reminded of what he lacked.

He'd spent a bit of time with First Edition but the rotund newsstallion had always veered away from his daughter's budding romance to questions about the impending divorce. Silverstar couldn't fault him; it was a juicy story. But he wanted to remain private. It was somewhat similar attempting to spend some time with Balance Beam. She was a kind, grandmotherly mare, but she continuously tried to steer the conversation to the imposition of heavy alimony, a punitive measure for all of Cordelia's faults and abuses. In a weak moment Silverstar had given it a thought before turning the idea aside sharply. He wanted out, not her money, though could not deny Cordelia needed some sort of castigation for her actions.

The rest of the kind ponies, and others, of Appleoosa had given him some attention, advice and attempts at a good time to distract his mind. He was invited to far more poker games than was really prudent for a sheriff, and it wasn't much fun when he had to force cheaters to pay a fine. He went stampeding with a few of the buffalo, with special dispensation to enter tribal land. The rush of earth mana was quite nice but it was just another reminder of what he was missing. He had conversations, wonderful visits and more free pies and cakes than he could eat.

Even with all that it felt a little empty. He was too aware it was just a distraction, something to try and pull his mind away from missing Cactus. The others didn't know, of course; Morton was the only one who knew and he was keeping very quiet. Silverstar knew he knew and that just made it more clear he was marking time. It made the days pour like molasses in winter, sluggish hour by sluggish hour.

A rumble in his stomach brought him back to the present. Lunch. He could go out; he was trying to conserve his bits but they would be reasonable to him at the restaurant. Somepony might even feel like treating him. Morton had some small food stock at the bar, but going there when there wasn't a stage to divide him from Cactus was asking for trouble.

His decision was to stay in, with half a blackberry pie from one of the older mares and some kind of odd root-stuffed-with-mushroom baked dish from one of the miners. Odd as it sounded it was surprisingly delicious, even a day old. The two made for a more-than-passable meal.

Leftovers, eaten while sitting behind his desk, trying not to think about Cactus. Silverstar had to admit, life had certainly made him come to an interesting definition of 'passable.' It wasn't a bad thing, it was rather cozy, as there was no sense of pressure or menace from demands of propriety, nor were there unkind words being said about some group. Still, it was a meal in the sheriff's station. Not a very normal thing.

With his simple repast completed, Silverstar considered a jaunt around town, another round of patrol and greeting. It was his job after all. With no pressing matters, however, it would serve as little more than a way to digest his meal and be seen by all, assuring them once more that he was perfectly fine. He'd get a few smiles, some nods, and a few awkward stares. Something he was used to.

“Cordelia must be getting worse...” He said, a smile slipping onto his face though he pushed it back down. That wasn't nice. But... she had earned it. She hadn't exactly ingratiated herself to the citizens of the town. She swept in her her fake aristocratic bearing and her Pericarp haughtiness, flashing her family heirlooms and family bits. Even the richer folks in town didn't really like her. They put up with her for appearance's sake.

Since he had been the one to get the news out first, everyone assumed that Cordelia was to blame. It wasn't hard to imagine that being the case, given that everyone had seen the bandages and suspected a lot of the details. He had pointedly been avoiding Cordelia since she had packed up his things and shipped them off to him, using the mail just out of spite. He didn't know the state of her treatment but it was probably bad.

He held no real ill will towards her. There was still some small ember of love for the image he had of her. But the image was far from the reality, as he had rather painfully learned. He just wanted her to go on her way to a circumstance that suited her. He even held out hope she could reform her view into one that was more sensible, more kind, more genuinely Equestrian. But if she could not, it wasn't much of a matter. She would be away, free to live her life, and he could live his.

With Cactus.

Cactus was discovering that life was hard to fill without someone to love, if that life was once pleasantly borne along on love. She had been happy on her own, but was out of practice in keep herself happy and entertained.

She was not bitter about the attention that Silverstar was getting from the folks in town. They knew of his pain and his loneliness. As far as they knew she was still single. He did deserve it, he was losing so much, and was going through it fairly well alone. He was just a stallion, after all. Like a bull, a bit lost without a mare or cow with him.

She had exhausted her rehearsal opportunities early and did not wish to putter around the Salt Block, which was the most neutral location in town. So she had taken to helping Morton with his cleaning and setup, as well as serving those customers that came in early for whatever reason. They were all a bit surprised but very pleased to be served by a beautiful buffalo cow, especially one they knew from the stage.

It wasn't her ideal means of distraction, but it worked to keep his mind silent. She also learned the important parts of a new trade. She was going to need more skills in case she had to take a second job once she and Silverstar had become a real couple. Working in a saloon was not that bad. It would certainly make for a good way to make bits.

“Mister Morton, I must say that while I understand the reason...” Cactus began, during a lull in activity. She was polishing the glassware and Morton was stocking the salt pouches.

“Ah know. Ya miss him,” Morton interrupted, carefully measuring out the large, coarse grains of some of the fancy processed salt he had imported from some chateau in central Equestria. Got a good deal on it, and he was ready to see a profit. “Sisters know ya used ta get all of him that ya wanted, and all the trips a body could want outta town ta the beautiful places in Equestria.”

“I am not needful, in the sense that I cannot live without him. I have only come to realize that... life is dull and bland without him. He was the... salt to my meal,” Cactus said, while she arranged the salt plates behind the bar.

“That's love. Ah think we all feel it in life. It ain't nothin' strange 'r wrong. Ya'd rather be there, huggin' up ta him, helpin' him out. 'Cause ah 'spect ya can tell he's jes as miserable and mopey as you,” Morton said, with an even tone.

Cactus winced a little but, but did not get mad. Morton was not trying to be unkind. He was being honest, and such honesty was what she really needed. “He is just a stallion. Cut loose, drifting, alone. He is very fortunate the others in town are being nice to him, helping fill the empty days.”

“His job ain't much, not 'round these parts. We're Equestrians here, very peaceable. Plus with the buffalo 'round spreadin' their good cheer and happiness there ain't much fer a trained lawstallion ta do,” Morton said with a shake of his head. “If it weren't for them nice folks ah think he'd be out in the wilds jabberin' with th' little animals.”

“Indeed, he would feel even more abandoned and terrible. What makes it more painful is that he has brought this on himself. He wanted me to stay away so that I would not bring shame onto myself. He wished none to know until after his separation. Though I understand... it is not easy to live out the comprehension,” Cactus sighed, leaning heavily on the bar.

“He's a good fella, and yer a fine cow fer offerin' him a bit of happiness. Y'all 're jes right fer one another. Makes ya wish ya had met a while before, don't it?” Morton asked, a certain shine coming to his eyes. “Yep, ya'd be the cutest thing, bein' like one-a them romantic movies, maybe serenadin' him like ladies do ta stallions, 'r some such thing...”

A smile pulled at Cactus's lips, and she let herself indulge in the image. She, brushed and nervous, singing beneath Silverstar's window, hoping he'd respond favorably. She knew the sort of movies Morton meant; Silverstar and her dates into big cities had included plenty of those kinds of movies. They were wonderfully sweet, and a perfect time for long, slow kisses.

Had she been his wife first he never would have been unhappy. Had she been his wife first, of course, he would have been sad and lonely for a long while. There was a reality to things. They never would have met until after the pie war, and never could have been close until after the Gale-Bells had gone public. The past was what it was, unchanging and set. He had married Cordelia first, he had suffered in silence, and he had met Cactus at just the right moment.

“Perhaps I cannot change the past, nor can I make all that happened go away. But I know what he needs most, and I refuse to be afraid of what must be done,” Cactus said suddenly. “Mister Morton, can I ask you for a favor? It involves you and your guitar.”

“Always glad ta lend ya a hoof, Cactus. 'Specially when ah get ta strum the ol' guitar. Gonna do some more practice somewheres private?” Morton asked.

“No... I have a very public thing that I must do. I will understand if you do not wish to do this but... I am going to go singing down the streets of Appleoosa and...” Cactus drifted off, face set and determined.

“Say no more, ma'am. Ah don't gotta know the details. Ah think ah can guess. Mighty bold of ya, ma'am, but ah didn't 'spect nothin' less from the cow that can wrangle Silverstar,” Morton said, vanishing upstairs and returning with a guitar slung across his chest. “We leavin' right away?”

“I think it would be best to not hesitate. I could think better of this and I do not want serious thought to interrupt this rash action,” Cactus replied with a nervous laugh.

Morton gave the guitar a few experimental plucks, adjusting the strings a bit and getting the base sound just right. For a walking performance he'd need to do a lot of chin-chords so he made certain he was limbered up before he gave Cactus the nod.

They set off from the saloon with relatively little pomp, nothing but the determined thump of Cactus' hooves and the light strumming of Morton's guitar providing a running commentary of their position. They attracted a little notice, but most folks weren't interested enough to peel off from their daily activities. That changed when Cactus opened her mouth.

The whole town knew, by and large, what the buffalo cow sounded like. They knew her voice was as pure and sweet as the voice of one of the Princesses. But on that day it was loaded with extra passion, extra force, and heaping globs of love. It was so full of love the first ones to start following were the few local Changelings who had come around seeking work. They were not the sole followers for very long.

The singing, backed by Morton's guitar, was not just beautiful to hear. There was a depth of meaning behind it. The listeners didn't understand what it was. But they knew that when Cactus started singing about love, devotion and determination, she meant every word.

The strange parade grew longer as Cactus and Morton made a circuit of the town, picking up any stray listener they found. Most just wanted to keep listening, and a few also wondered what was coming. It was clear there was more to it than just a concern in the open air. Cactus' dedicated hooves and golden voice were aimed somewhere and for someone. Solving the mystery would be almost as much of a pleasure as listening to the tune.

The mystery was solved a bit before the end of the trail. Everyone could see the Sheriff's Office right at the end of Cactus' route, and comprehension traveled from mind to mind as they put the pieces together. The stallion to be divorced, being serenaded by one of the most eligible bachelorettes in town. Some thought it was a new attraction; some recalled little hints that suggested more; some concocted the relationship from the small clue of her approaching the station; they were all right that her destination was Silverstar.

Silverstar was out the door before he really knew what was happening. He heard music all wrapped up in the murmuring of a crowd too large to be the usual milling group at that time of the day. His first thought was some kind of a panic, perhaps something that required the law. His second thought was of the singing. He was disarmed and entranced by the familiar bright, sweet tone of Cactus' voice. His final thought was shock, surprise and a little fear when he realized what Cactus was singing.

He ran up to Cactus at the head of her own personal parade and asked, “Wh-what is goin' on here? What're all these folks doin' followin' ya around ta the station?”

The beatific look of calm serenity that had been on Cactus' features fell in an instant, when she had to confront the reality of what she was doing. How foolish. How improper. But how necessary. “They wanted to hear me sing. Sing... for you...”

“W-w-well, that's mighty kind of ya but, ah always see ya down at Morton's. Howdy there, Morton. Good ta see ya pickin' and helpin' Cactus out,” Silverstar said, tipping his hat in Morton's direction. He got a head-nod back.

“It is not the same, and we both know it. We both know that this... cannot continue. I know you want only what is best for me but it does us no good to suffer,” Cactus said, approaching Silverstar but stopping before she touched him. “If we do this, continue like this, Cordelia continues to win.”

Silverstar let out an exasperated sigh but gave a nod all the same. “Y'aint wrong... Ah wish it weren't so but ya ain't wrong...”

“I know that there will be... things thought, perhaps whispered or even said. This is wrong, in many ways. We've been wrong for a long time, but we do want to make it right. I think that counts for a lot. I think that will cure our being wrong,” Cactus said, bravely stepping up and pressing herself comfortably against Silverstar, the crowd erupting into soft gasps.

Silverstar hesitated for a moment, eyes on the crowd. They were whispering, and looking right at both of them. Right at Cactus. He was ruining her. Destroying her. He... loved her too much to just let her languish. She loved him enough to risk it. If she was willing to take that upon herself, he would be ungentlecoltly if he did not accept. His forelegs wrapped securely around her, and he squeezed her tight. “It ain't wrong ta love ya. It's the only right thing ah've done in mah life, when it comes ta the heart. Ah ain't gonna let ya go, Cactus. Not long as you'll have me.” He slowly brought his head down, and pressed his lips firmly against hers.

The crowd that had been following them erupted into stomping applause, hoots, hollers and cheers ringing out across the dusty expanse while hats, bonnets and headbands were tossed into the air.

The raucous celebration of love, however, didn't interrupt Cactus and Silverstar at all. The world could very well have vanished, for all they could tell. The two were lost in a world of their own making, finally sharing a kiss in the sunlight, unafraid.

The River

Silverstar whistled a happy tune as he completed his round for the day. Appleoosa was peaceful as ever, all spit and polish and good neighbors getting along well. The townsfolk, of all species, greeted him happily when they saw him, and he returned a tip of his hat when he saw that.

As Celestia drew her sun low in the sky and Luna slowly pulled her moon up into the orange-toned heavens, Silverstar followed the lengthening shadows to the imposing edifice that was his home. The great home had not changed at all, and the front door waited for him to open it wide. He placed his hoof on the knob, gave it a turn and let himself in.

The circuit judge arrived in a timely manner and got himself settled into Appleoosa's only hotel, as he always did. He was a middle-aged unicorn, with pressed black attire, a peach-colored coat, graying reddish mane and tail and a set of silver spectacles on his face. His docket was small, but not absent. Sometimes he got lucky and there was nothing to do but lounge. He was not so fortunate.

The city hall became a makeshift courthouse for the day, to handle the one piece of business which had enraptured the whole town. Silverstar's divorce. The rarity of the event, combined with strong feelings about the 'players' in the matter, packed the place and led to overflow seating outside, with eager reports passed along and mangled by a version of the telephone game.

“Hear ye, hear ye, this court is in session, though why that is is beyond me,” Judge Square Deal said, rapping his gavel on the desk. “Seems to me that this could have been resolved with some simple paperwork and a rubber stamp with my name on it. Why are we going through all this to-do and falderol?”

“Because, your honor, I will not accept the no-fault judgment,” Cordelia said, with a sickly sweet smile slapped hastily onto her face.

“And why is that Miss... Cordelia?” Square asked.

“No-fault creates an even distribution of property and gives the stallion alimony. That property is legally mine, and I will not be paying alimony,” Cordelia said with a certain wounded pride.

“And ah don't want nor need no alimony. Cordelia can keep her stuff. Hay, she brought most of it with her. Ah ain't got no use fer porcelain plates 'r silver folks,” Silverstar insisted.

“That was always your problem you uncouth boor! There were matters of propriety and delicacy you could never master, nor could you muster the focus to learn the right way...” Cordelia said, venom creeping into her voice. She dialed back the tone and smiled again after taking a look at the judge.

“This sure is unusual. Not that I've seen many of these before but I can't think of one that involved both sides not wanting an even split. Especially not with both sides wanting the same kind of uneven split, plus no alimony! So tell me, Miss Cordelia, just what do you have in mind for this?” Square asked.

“It's simply really. Dissolution of marriage, expurgation of the existence of it, and a payment to me for loss of potential matrimony which happened during this marriage,” Cordelia said, her tone becoming harder and businesslike.

“They make these belles out of iron out here, I guess,” Square muttered.

“Pericarp forged,” Silverstar said, on hearing the judge's mutter.

“I suddenly see why I'm sitting here for this,” Square said with a shake of his head.

“My place of origin is of no concern in this case!” Cordelia insisted, slapping a hoof down on her table. “I want this done fairly and impartially.”

“Very well, Miss Cordelia. Explain why you should get all that, plus some money from the Sheriff,” Square said.

“The matter is simple and for several days has been in the open. Silverstar has been committing adultery!” Cordelia cried, slapping her hoof down on the table again. If she was expecting a reaction she did not get her desire. The audience was silent, all the eyes staring, a few confused shrugs meeting the dramatic declaration.

“By the silence of the courtroom this doesn't seem to be a very surprising revelation,” Square noted. “For how long has this situation been happening and with whom has it been happen? If you happen to know, that is.”

“Oh I know! He stopped hiding it the other day but I smelled it on him weeks ago. It was that coquettish little buff hussy who sings down at the Salt Block. Cactus Needle or whatever her name is,” Cordelia seethed.

“Cactus Blossom,” Silverstar corrected, turning a small scowl on Cordelia. “And mind them sharp words. This is a good town. We don't throw 'round terms like 'buff' in these parts. We don't throw 'round half the terms ah heard outta you.”

“Hearsay!” Cordelia shouted, a blush crossing her snout as she realized she had let a bit too much slip. “He doesn't deny it. He doesn't even hide it. It's been... I have to guess months, maybe a year. He's slipped away, in the course of his 'duties' to other towns. I have to guess he took her too, to get in some misceg- to get in some adulterous liaisons,” she said, with a deepening blush and clearer sense of guilt.

“She ain't wrong. Ah'll own up ta several months. Since ah met her at the Salt Block and heard her sing,” Silverstar said, getting a dreamy look on his face. “We been outta town a few times, but not jes fer the kinda think Cordelia thinks. We did some proper courtin' and all. Took her ta see the nice places in th' Principality.”

“While you were still legally bound to your wife, correct? Before a formal declaration of intent? There's a bit of wiggle room after that,” Square asked.

“Legally bound, that is correct, and before ah told her ah wanted out,” Silverstar replied, with heavy emphasis on the important word, which was joined by a glare in Cordelia's direction.

“Emotional bonds are secondary to the legal realities,” Cordelia noted. “We had a contract before the law.”

“Ah ain't sayin' ah done right, not by either of 'em. Least of all Cactus Blossom. But ah did it, and ah admit to it. Now ta get this mess all sorted out,” Silverstar said.

“At least you admit to guilt. It speaks well of you, Sheriff. Mendacity fares ill in my eyes. We've heard what your wife wants, and what fault she wants to bring. What of you?” Square inquired.

“Ah jes want the divorce. She can keep her money and her little things, it ain't mine anyhow. Ah don't want no upkeep money from her, ah don't need it,” Silverstar said.

“Very reasonable, sir,” Square said, nodding, “But she has fault, and a serious fault beside. Her case is stronger unless you can prove an earlier or more serious one.”

Silverstar hesitated, tapping nervously on the table, which brought a smug smile to Cordelia's face. “He has no such thing. He knows how this will go. I take matters like this seriously.”

The hesitation vanished and Silverstar snorted through his mustache. “Ya want a fault Cordelia? Ya got plenty of 'em. Yer bigotry ain't nothing ta be proud of, that shouldda been mah first sign ta get out.”

Cordelia went stiff and stammered out, “Th-this is all p-pure hearsay and has no...”

“Alienation of affection,” Silverstar stated, firmly, a gasp moving like a wave through the crowd. Even the judge looked a bit stricken.

“That is a serious fault in matters such as these...” Square said, fiddling with the gavel. “That even serves as mitigation for the adultery if the alienation was severe enough. You say that this alienation took the form of bigotry?”

“She weren't none too kind ta the non-pony-folks in town. Never had been, out there in her old home but here there were more here. All kindsa awful terms outta her mouth, things ah ain't comfortable with repeatin' before respectable townsfolk and an upright judge as yerself,” Silverstar said with a humble, downward look.

“Please provide examples of these terms used, and those with delicate sensibilities please be aware that this is testimony and not the idea of the Sheriff,” Square said to Silverstar and the crowd.

“You can't allow this! This is still hearsay and is unduly prejudicial. There is no way to confirm any of this,” Cordelia cried, knocking a hoof firmly on her table.

“Miss Cordelia, I heard you use a slur against buffalo in my court. I will listen to this and decide if it sounds in line with what I can glean from the plain facts of the matter,” Square said, in a slow and calm voice. “Sheriff, please proceed.”

“She was always talkin' 'bout donkeys as... knob-knees, or such. An' ah heard her say something 'bout a griffin. It was... mish-mash...” Silverstar blushed heavily, looking down and away from all eyes. “And ah know ah heard her call some nice Roani folks ribbontails. But here, it's all about bein' mad that the buffalo folk 're here. She don't like 'em marrying up with ponies. And... now that the mine's been makin' some bits she was talkin' 'bout... she... she called the Diamond Dogs... dirt Dogs...”

“Scandal! Outrage!” From the audience boomed the voice of First Edition, who looked to have been doing a bit of reporting work for himself. The pencil snapped in his magical grip and his fat face was lined with a deep scowl. “To say such a vile slur! Chase her out of town right now!”

Square rapped the gavel loudly on his table, rising up suddenly. “Order! Order! The audience will keep order and quiet or I will clear this room! You were warned about there being uncomfortable terms to be used. Now please restrain yourself.”

“Yes, your honor. My apologies,” The newspaperstallion said, picking up the broken pencil bits and returning to his writing. From the look on his face the poison was really going to flow through the article.

“Now, to the matter at hoof...” Square said, settling back down. “Given the evidence I have seen with my own eyes, and heard with my own ears I must conclude that this may be true and accurate information. Miss Cordelia you know that such bigoted opinions are sharply contrary to the way of Equestrian society. Alienation of affection is natural in such circumstances.”

“But there exists no proof for the particulars,” Cordelia insisted, attempting to remain calm after First's outburst. She could feel his eyes burning into the back of her head. “It could have been a momentary slip, today, while I was a perfect Equestrian lady before, and never alienated Silverstar's affections. Which means we have only his admission of adultery.”

“There was one more thing...” Silverstar said quietly, eyes closed and breathing growing a bit ragged. “She... she beat me, your honor. She beat me and threw me out of the house in the rain, without anythin' but the clothes on mah back.”

“Beat... you..?” Square looked in shocked at Silverstar, being turning a hard glare on Cordelia. “Domestic violence? A rare crime, and one considered among the most heinous, a matter of brutality like murder, foal-battery and sexual violation. Did you perpetrate this crime as is being reported?”

Cordelia licked her dry lips, composing herself as she looked up into the judge's eyes. She had to lie without a trace of guilt or shame. “No, your honor, and there exists no proof that such a thing ever happened.”

Silverstar slumped a bit more before a voice called out, “No, I saw it! He was all beaten up that night of the big storm, a bit before he said he was getting a divorce!” Further voices in the audience stated similar things, over and over.

“Y-you can't take what they say at face value, there's no proof. This is all just a lot of assertions without evidence,” Cordelia cried, looking back at the audience. She turned her head back around when she caught a sea of angry glares. She had never had much in the way of support and had burned every last bit in recent weeks.

“Miss Cordelia, the court judges that conspiracy is, itself, a crime that must be demonstrated. You have to offer proof that the citizens of town are intentionally conspiring against you. They corroborate that Silverstar was beaten,” Square said.

“But you can't prove I did it!” Cordelia cried to the audience. She turned back to the judge and lifted her head in an imperious gesture. “I made my case. Adultery. I demand a fee for my time and complete expurgation of the marriage from all records.”

“Yes. It falls to me to rule on what to do about all of this. I will say one thing. These proceedings, by their rarity and the desperate nature of the situations that call for them make acrimony the norm. But there is only one acrimonious one in this case...” Square rapped the gavel on the table. “There will be a complete expurgation. The marriage will have never existed. The other particulars will be determined after I consider the particulars. We are in recess.” He slammed the gavel down hard, leaving the city hall in still silence.

“Ah'm home,” Silverstar called, as he entered the house. It was his house, free and clear. His fancy Canterlot lawyer had gotten it for him. Despite not wanting nor needing either a fancy Canterlot lawyer or the house, Balance Beam had been only too happy to offer her services. She could be very persuasive.

“My dear, I trust your rounds were peaceful and quiet,” Cactus Blossom answered, waddling her way into the front room. The buffalo cow had added to herself, a third feather at her marriage, and a large baby-filled swell in her belly, after a year of that marriage.

“Peaceful, oh yes. Quiet? It ain't never quiet in that town. Always cheerin' and callin' and offerin' me free salt an' drinks. It's why ah love it,” Silverstar replied. He flopped down on the couch in the front room and picked up the paper. The paper had been about nothing but the divorce for a week after. The headlines trumpeted the failure of Cordelia's gambit. Fault was assigned to her end, which was what got Balance Beam to wrangle her into giving up property in exchange for rational alimony payments and no scandal, which would be risen even if she were only arrested and accused of spousal abuse. “Lookin' at the paper reminds me, First Edition asked if we would like ta join him fer dinner. He and his family are having some do, ah think Honeysuckle's gonna pop the question. Won't that Miss Topaz be surprised?”

“She should not be. I think that Honeysuckle spends more time in the mine than a miner would,” Cactus said with a light laugh, pulling up onto the couch and snuggling up with her husband. She nuzzled at the feather in his hatband and then at one ear. “Did you accept the generous offer?”

“Ah said we might. Yer still haulin 'round twins, that ain't easy ta do,” Silverstar noted, rubbing the rounded buffalo belly and smiling.

“This is true. Their motions indicate they will be strong in the ways of the stampede,” Cactus noted, wryly, nudging Silverstar with a shoulder. “But if the Gale-Bells have taught us anything it is that after children come there are few chances to be out and about without extensive planning or the inconveniencing of others. So let us take advantage.”

“Right as always, mah dear,” Silverstar said, dutifully rising and walking to the bedroom. He pulled out his formal shirt and a finer vest, getting them on with only a small bit of hassle. His feather was transferred from his working hat to the high-quality embroidered silk hat he had gotten from a Caballito import shop. It pulled his casual look together perfectly.

While digging through the closet for some shiny spurs, a must for something like an engagement party, he came across his old wedding album. Cordelia had abandoned the house in a hurry, having grabbed up all the important and valuable items and left what she did not think was worth anything. It was unsurprising that it was there. Though he had intended to be quick he couldn't help but flip through the pages.

Every picture was a lie. He was smiling, even though he heard the most unkind things. She was smiling even though she was only calculating was to change him. Her whole family were a lot of vipers, who were smiling to thoughts of image and propriety, not love. Each photo was a window into a time that never was, telling a tale more invented than a radio play or stage drama.

He brought the book into the living room and threw it into the fireplace, hitting it with the lighter by the side and then stepping away after pulling the screen shut. “Ready to go, dear?”

Cactus slowly got herself off the couch, giving Silverstar plenty of time to attach the spurs which he had found. “Are you sure you should leave that unattended? And what are you burning? It looks to be a book...”

“It ain't nothing. Jes some old junk Cordelia left behind. It ain't actually anything, some kindling for the fireplace. Bad bit of fiction, you know, one of those things they make up and ya wonder who could believe it,” Silverstar said, steering Cactus towards the front door.

“Oh, of course, yes. One of the two-bit novels, as they say. How can such trash ever make it through the editing process?” Cactus asked as she waddled out the door.

“Things fall through the cracks. Much as we may hate it, it's jes how it goes. Fools an' good intentions go hoof-in-hoof...” Silverstar said, looking back briefly to the book, which had swiftly burned away to curled black pages and smoldering embers. With a firm nod he turned towards his wife and pressed against her side, both of them blithely stepping out into the comfortable Appleoosan evening.