Promising Reassignment

Fillydelphia was a nice place if a little too industrialized. After six years of living there, Canterlot was overly luxurious by comparison.

Walking down the streets of Canterlot Fleur de Lis became aware of how quickly word could travel around Equestria. Every time she stopped to casually window shop she caught the whispers of ponies who thought they were out of hearing distance.

Some onlookers simply wanted to know who “that pony” was. Others recognized her and began talking about her late husband. All of her free time was more or less ruined by the comments she picked up.

At one point a pair of high society mares who were no more than a few feet behind her said much too loudly, “Seems she’s recovered rather quickly.”

By this point Fleur de Lis had had enough, she turned to face the pair and stared at them. Her horn began to glow softly as both ponies were forced to look right into her eyes. Both mareswere filled with an unexplainable cold terror. Fleur de Lis’s horn flared brightly for an instant, and then she stomped away before allowing herself to go any further. The two mares had forgotten the events of the last three minutes, and the fear was replaced with a crushing guilt from something they would never know of.

Sitting at a table outside of a rather nice cafe she simply tapped a spot on the menu and said, “That please.” The waiter looked carefully at her hoof on the menu then to her and back at the menu again.

He shrugged and said, “Excellent choice madam.” He then left her alone to go put in her order.

With a sigh la Fleur laid herhead on the table and shut her eyes, lest she cry in public. As the secondspassed by it became increasingly difficult to hold back the crushing wave of sadness that threatened to pour from her eyes. With a quick flourish of magic her pink and white mane fell over her face and she let the tears flow forth in silence. She was normally above such behavior in public, but never before had she been in such a situation and it was all she could do to not start wailing for everypony to hear. The warm streams trickling down her face gave her some amount of comfort. In her mind, the fact that she had gone so long without crying made her worry the loss of her husband had broken her emotionally.

The sound of a dish being set down on her table startled her. She carefully parted her messy mane and saw a frothy green shake as well as her waiter watching her patiently.

When the waiter pony saw her eye he asked, “Is that all madam?”

She nodded sullenly and levitated out some number of bits she didn’t care to count. By the look on the
waiter’s face it was well beyond too much. She simply didn’t care and just wanted to be left alone.

“Umm... Madam that is more than twice the bits for your shake. Are you sure-”

“It’s yours.” She growled from under her mane.

“Very good then.” He scooped the bits off the table and quickly left the angry mare to herself.

When he’d gone la Fleur parted her mane again to look at the shake. It looked very appealing, but she was worried about going down that slippery slope to unhealthy comfort food. Her self-discipline had dissolved somewhat over the five years of her marriage. With a whimper she slid the tempting treat across the table and levitated it off so she didn’t have to show her face to anypony walking by. At the first sip her eyes went wide with surprise. Whatever it was, it was just about the perfect amount of sweetness with a hint of something she couldn’t quite identify. The sweetness combined with her being out of sorts caused her to miss the tell tale burn of alcohol traveling slowly down her throat. Even though she knew it was a bad idea she was going to have to order another. As she continued to down her drink, now only stopping to breath, the problems of the past few hours just melted away leaving her able to smile and look at the beautiful city
around her.

Her mane was slightly messy now, but she took time to make it look halfway decent again. When she’d
finished the slightly rosy cheeked white mare set the empty glass in the center of the table to get the waiter’s attention.

He trotted over carefully, but the gentle look in her eyes encouraged him to approach with more confidence.

“Did you enjoy your shake madam?” He asked remaining as professional as possible.

“It was wonderful, I’d like another please.” She requested with a sincerely content smile.

“Alright, are you sure madam?” To the waiter such a beautiful and wealthy mare should know better than to be
drinking this early in the day. He didn’t know that she didn’t know what was in the drinks.

“Of course I’m sure.” She chortled.

“Right then, shall I deduct it from your previous payment?” He was already on his way to get her another shake.

“No, of course not! I shall pay for this one as well.” Fleur de Lis was aware that she had grossly overpaid the
first time and wouldn’t do so again, but that was in the past and was his tip as far as she was concerned.

“Very good madam.” He said carrying the empty glass away.

While she waited for the next drink the first began to take effect. Before long she was shuffling her hooves close together on the table; she wasn’t trying to reach the other side because that would be very inappropriate, but it amused her to watch her shoes come together in a mock battle.

The waiter had returned tray in mouth and was watching the buzzed mare playing with her hooves in public. There was something wrong with this behavior and he almost took the drink back before he’d been noticed, but she did and it was too late.

“Thank you very much.” The white mare giggled as she levitated the drink off the tray.

“It was my pleasure.” The waiter said around the tray in his mouth.

After only a few minutes the second shake was gone, and her problems were even farther away. Two was enough,
she decided after feeling full halfway through the second drink. The idea of completely abandoning her current figure was something she refused to let happen.

Carefully she counted out an adequate number of bits plus a tip and continued with her day on unsteady hooves.

Ponies around her were talking again, but she missed most of the conversations or ignored them completely. The
high class ponies watched as a gorgeous white unicorn mare weaved her way down the streets with a goofy smile spread across her face. Less ponies seemed to recognize her this way, most refusing to believe that the widow of such a high standing business pony would be walking around drunk in the late afternoon.

When the clock struck six and most were preparing for whatever events they planned to attend, Fleur de Lis
was reminded that she was meeting not only with her new client but with the Sun Goddess herself, who had been a good friend of both her and her late husband. Her mane was a mess and the ride up here had left her exhausted. She needed
sleep before seeing either, still completely unaware that she had consumed more alcohol in one sitting than she ever had before.

The drunken mare hunted around for a while, giggling the whole way, until she found a nice looking inn for the night.

The young light grey buck working the front desk had only just finished his training, and this was his first night alone. When the most beautiful looking mare he’d ever seen walked into the lobby and immediately fixed looked at him with the warmest smile she possibly could have, he could only stare.

As Fleur de Lis cantered up to the front desk to request a room her drastically shortened attention span made
her turn to look at the diamond chandelier hanging above a lounging area. The receptionist watched her rump as it was presented to him. Somehow the drunk mare caught him and quickly turned around.

“Hey, where are your eyes.” She reached up and poked him hard in the chest.

“I’m sorry ma'am?” He cleared his throat and rubbed his black mane awkwardly.

After a few moments of fixing him with her scrutinizing gaze she said, “I must have just imagined you staring at my flank.” She giggled into her hoof. “I need a room please. A nice room if you have one.” The chandelier hadn’t tipped her off that this was a very high end place.

“Uh, our nicest room is eight hundred bits a night.” The receptionist pony said unsurely.

“Eight hundred bits!” She parroted putting her forelegs over the counter. “I- I think I have that.” She buried her face in her traveling bag for said bits, forgetting for the time being that she was a unicorn, and quickly found her money pouch.

Again her inebriation prevented her from counting any higher than ten so she spilled her bits across the counter to the receptionist’s surprise. “Eight hundred, right?” She started hoofing bit after bit over to him. “I lost count.” She admitted after pushing over more than twenty assorted bits.

So had he, after she had moved no less than two thousand bits to him, before she began to push bits of lesser
value at him. Carefully he separated eight hundred bits from the pile and gently pushed the rest back into the pile, trying to prevent her from noticing. It was at the thousand bit mark that he realized how intoxicated she was. His behavior while she had her back turned to him filled him with a terrible guilt. He deserved to get caught and he wasn’t about to take advantage of such a beautiful creature again. If he were any other more confident stallion he would
have considered the possibility of getting with this mare for the night and waking up with a smile in the morning. Being the good pony he was, that thought would never cross his mind in a thousand years.

When he’d finished counting out the proper number of bits and managed to push the rest back towards her he said, “Will you need anything else Mrs. ummm... What is your name I need to write it down.” The stallion said one of the only words that could have penetrated her cheerful drunken haze and caused her to come down from her near perfect world.

“My husband is dead!” She wailed throwing herself over the counter and beginning to bawl.

It took the receptionist a while to figure out what had set her off. When he finally realized he’d referred to her as Missus. Why, he would never know. She hadn’t come in with anypony else, no coltfriend or anything. Such a beautiful mare without a male companion of any kind should have said something to him. He facehoofed in an attempt to get the stupid out of his head, he did it too hard and grimaced as “stupid” struck again. Coming back to the issue at hoof, which was a gorgeous mare crying on his counter while nopony else was around to help him.

“Ma'am, ma'am! I’m sorry, uh- How about I give you the room half off. I didn’t mean to upset you I swear I just wasn’t thinking.” He gently stroked her hoof praying to Celestia that it would do something to calm her down.

The offer of money only made her tears flow faster. “I don’t want more money I want- I want somepony to hold me and tell me it’s going to be okay!” Fleur de Lis wanted to lie down then and there, and so she let gravity drag her off the counter and onto the floor. “The most I ever got from anypony was ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ from his business partners. Not so much as a pat on the back and they were gone!” She slammed her hoof into the floor and continued crying.

There was absolutely nothing for the inexperienced colt to do about the mare that was having a fairly well earned complete and total breakdown in front of him. He didn’t know her or her name for that matter, but somehow the responsibility of comforting the distraught mare fell to him. He picked up the key for her purchased room and came around the counter. Sitting down next to her, he scooped up her body and cradled her head in his lap.

He brushed his hoof through her pink and white mane as he said softly, “I’ll do what I can to be that somepony, but I don’t know how well I’ll be able to do it since I don’t know you at all.”

Her crying quieted as a soft voice came from near her, from somepony she couldn’t see through tear filled eyes. Carefully he fished a cloth from the pocket of his vest and began to dab around her eyes. She caught on quickly enough and did the rest herself. The cloth occupied her long enough for her sobs to come down to occasional quiet whimpers.

While she dried her eyes the receptionist was reminded of a friend from school who told him a story about sleeping with a drunk and crying filly. That was a friend he was happy to have never seen since, as he was forced to imagine the horrible feelings taking advantage of such a miserable creature would awaken inside him. The thought of it made him sick and made him hold her tighter, which elicited a small squeak
from the new responsibility laying against him.

“You’re already doing so much.” She whispered her voice was hoarse from crying. “I should probably go to a bed. How much is a room?”

“Um... You already have a room ma’am.”

“How much was it?” She shifted to get at her bag to pay him.

“You already paid as well.”

“Oh, how much was it?” She reiterated.

“Eight hundred bits.” He said even more gently.

“Eight hundred?” She repeated skeptically now slightly more sober.

“You asked for a nice room so I said ‘Our nicest room is eight hundred bits.’ and you were off searching for your purse. I can get you a different room if you’d like.” He hadn’t believed that a lone mare would actually want a honeymoon suit.

“No, no I don’t want to trouble you anymore.” Fleur de Lis attempted to stand and was finally made aware of her inebriation. “Have I been drinking?” She asked in disbelief.

“It would appear so ma’am.” He confirmed with some reluctance.

“Oh, good. Can you get me to my room please?”

“I can, it is part of my job I suppose.” He was happy to do it, but he had gotten comfortable holding her this way.

“Forgive me,” She began pushing away to see her rescuer’s face, “What is your name?”

“Me? I’m nopony special.” Now that she was acting the way her figure said she should, the young receptionist was almost ashamed in her presence. In a city full of snobbish uptight ponies meeting such a naturally beautiful and polite pony was too rare an opportunity to be wasted on him.

“That is very far from the truth. You’re clearly somepony who was enough of a gentlecolt to help me in my time of need instead of taking advantage of my state of mind and hurting me. Now as a paying guest of this inn I demand that you tell me your name so I can thank you properly tomorrow.”

“I guess- My name is Silver Leaf. I’m an artist in my spare time.” He smiled sheepishly and patted his palette with five spots of silver paint cutie mark.

“Silver Leaf.” She considered the name for a moment, “Thank you so much.” She managed to sit up and put her forelegs around his neck in a warm embrace. Due to her inebriated state of mind the hug lasted longer than it probably needed to, neither participant minded.

“So my eight hundred bit room then?” She said breaking off the hug.

“Yes, you need help?” He stood up next to her.

“Yes, please.”

Help is exactly what he did.

After gathering up all the spilt contents of her purse and finding a luggage cart, he wheeled her into the elevator and pushed her to her room.

Opening the door he waited patiently while she rose to all four hooves and shakily made her way to the bed. The bed was unfortunately on the other side of a very large room.

“How did I make it around town like this?” She said clearly frustrated by the amount of effort this was taking.

Silver Leaf was quick to act and moved up beside her allowing her to lean on him. She nodded in gratitude and in a collective effort made it over to the bed. In a final act of sincerest and utmost respect he gently helped her onto the bed and pulled the covers halfway up her body before bowing out, locking the door as he left.

La Fleur watched him leave with a smile on her face. Once the door closed tears began to fall from her eyes, but this time her smile remained. Now there was somepony she knew cared, even if they’d never meet again that knowledge was enough to give her much needed comfort.

Such a gentlecolt Was the last thing she thought before drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

Still sitting outside the door, Silver Leaf was trying to come to terms with what had just happened. The most beautiful mare he’d ever seen walked in, while he was working by himself, drunk. Then she’d had an emotional breakdown, while he was working by himself. And he, the shy artist who in his mind had no right to touch such a wondrous creature, managed to bring her back from her personal abyss, while he was working by himself.

Nopony was going to believe he cradled a supermodel in his lap while sitting on the floor of the inn’s lobby, except she was here now and she would be here tomorrow and that would be proof! If she chose to remember him at all, he was a fairly easy pony to forget. That thought crushed his fantasy as he reminded himself once again that, he wasn’t an important pony. Whatever she’d said probably had something to do with being drunk.

When he sat back behind his desk with a guilt free conscience that was good enough for him. There he sat trying to think about anything else until his shift would be over the next morning.