Author's Note

Welcome to the beginning of the long awaited picnic arch.
(Sorry still cant make that sound even vaguely ominous, even putting the word saga just made it seem shit.)

Sorry about the small chapter, new much bigger one out tomorrow, or maybe tonight, not sure I'm tired and very hungover.

The 'The Parley Part One' Part

Very Special thanks once again to Smokey Glacier for editing this chapter

(Slam)

You nearly take the door off its hinges. In your rage, the red mist of anger muddies your thoughts as you step back from the door, unsure of what to take this terrible rage out on. You try and take deep breaths to calm your nerves, your hands are shaking and you decide that cold water might sober you up from this concoction of venomous emotions. It would also assist in getting the dirt and sweat from your brow.
Catching your ragged breath, you slump you back against the door, momentarily pulling a loose strand of hair off your face. You wince as your shaking hand accidentally grazes you're sore and soon to be blackened eye.

You let out a long tired sigh.

That's what I get for trying to be a decent person. Last fucking time.

You decide to take your anger out on your new furniture, recently purchased, as you throw your saddle bag down into the couch with reckless abandon. Stomping into the kitchen, swears and callous words on the tip of your tongue as you enter. You resist the urge to throw the space hogging table off its wooden legs but thankfully collect yourself long enough to reach the sink.

Cupping your hand under the tap, you appreciate the icy water that cascades from it. Throwing the water up to your face, you feel just a little better as the cool water drips from your form. The subtle melodic ticking of the grandfather clock from the hallway in the other room invades your ears a sign of momentary peace or a symbolic doomsday ticking down the time till your next catastrophe you could not say. Placing both hands on each side of the sink you take a practice's meditative breath staring vacantly out the kitchen window.

The moment of peace was not to last unfortunately. With the catastrophic force of a tornado, the door flings open, revealing the sight of a large pregnant griffon twined with two deadly weapons. A baseball bat in one claw and a vicious frown on her beak equally as deadly.

"If you think your gonna’ rob anything while I'm around you got another thing... oh it’s you?" Gilda yells loudly, before teetering out.

You both mentally and physically face palm taking the embarrassment to a new level. You forgot that Gilda was sleeping upstairs. Also looking at her, you deduce based on the bags under her eyes you must have woken her up pretty abruptly.

"Yeah, sorry hon, forgot you were in." You apologise sincerely.

"Jeez, with the noise you were making I thought we were being robbed. I know the door gets stuck, but you should be more careful with our house, what--" She hesitates on the last word, looks you up and down like a noire detective would a crime scene and you notice her face form into an unreadable emotion.

"What happened to your eye?" She finishes, placing the bat by the kitchen counter, walking up towards the table in an incredibly methodically way, never hesitating with her next step and never breaking eye contact with you.

You touch your eye lightly in confusion before turning around. You grimace, wrapping your mind around coming up with a quick and ultimately flimsy lie. If this morning was any indication of what happened when someone pushed you into a corner, there was no way you could tell Gilda what happened. Not after all this work. You couldn't see it go to waste because of a stupid fight.

You straighten your posture and open up a cupboard, pretending to make some tea. You try to be as nonchalant as possible as you answer Gilda from over your shoulder, making it easier to hide your eye.

"Oh, uh funny story you see I was examining this doorknob in town that was made from these intricate little crystals and it reminded me that I needed to get a new door for the house entrance, when silly me, someone on the other side opens it with me still look--"

Gilda raises a single talon up in the air that you catch in your peripheral vision. It was slow and calculated as she keeps eye contact with you face. You quickly quite down under her stare. "Okay bub, I'm gonna stop ya right there. This lie right now needs to stop. One, because it already stinks and two, because I don't like my coltfriend acting like an idiot. You can't lie for horseapples anyway. We both know that you can't, so I'm gonna ask again slowly this time, in case you didn’t understand me." You turn slowly seeing Gilda digging her talons into the table slowly, methodically, scratching the wood from the flimsy oak as she glare up at you with those untamed golden pupils.

"What happened to your eye?"

You bite your lip and turn around fully, just about meeting her gaze. If you weren’t going to get away with this, you could at least tell half-truths.

"I got hit, by a rock, I didn't see it coming, I was trying to talk to this mare."

There was a pregnant pause in the air. Gilda was deathly still, her expression as neutral and emotionless as one could be. The only thing that changed was the depth in which her claws dug into the already abused kitchen table.

She inhales from her nostrils before speaking. "Who?" She finally answers.

"I uh, no idea probably, just an accident, you know kids mucking around!" you answer almost too quickly. She leans in closer to you on the table. "Lie to me again and see what happens. Last chance."

"I'm telling you, I don't know! It wasn't the mare I was talking to though she was quite angry or I guess worried or confused I don’t know it was all a bit hectic. It sort of came from someone in the crowd. It all happened too fast."

You almost wish she was yelling and screaming at this point. The silence was far more intimidating than you had ever experienced. Even more intimidating than that time Fluttershy fired you three times in the space of five minutes for being late to your job and also for talking back to her, for explaining you live in your job so you can theoretically never be late. This was back when she was taking lessons from Iron Will. Those where scary times. But this was on a new level that you never thought or hoped you'd experience.

"What Crowd?" she asks lifting an eyebrow in condition for a moment as the subtle yet claustrophobic rage in the air continues to rise.

You lean against the kitchen counter cupping your forehead and slowly massaging your temples with both finger and thumb. You replay the event in your head, remembering to be as select as possible to insure that Gilda didn't get the full story, or half Ponyville would be dead or worse by now if she found out.

"Yeah, look I was trying to take this filly home. She was upset and alone and I was trying to do the right thing, but apparently everyone else didn't think I was. Something happened, I couldn't calm them down and some blue bastard threw a rock at me!" You growl out the last part as your own rage rises in your chest.

If she wasn't so furiously angry, you were sure she would have smiled at that. "... So he was blue? You did see him!"

You raise your eyebrows up in surprise, cursing yourself for letting that tid-bit of information go.

"Tell me who he is or so help me I'll beat every blue stallion I see in town until I find the right one, I don't care." She finishes with deadly conviction in her voice. Her wings raised in that same predatory stance you witnessed back in town.

You gulp before continuing. You didn't want the bastard dead, but didn't want Gilda hurting innocent ponies in the process. She wasn't thinking straight in her rage. This wasn't Gilda right now. "It was one of the ponies from this morning, okay? The other stallion I don’t think I saw. I ran as soon as it looked like it was going to get ugly."

Gilda considers the statement for a moment the unhappiness and rage in her face is pushed down as she turns from you and begins to leave the seat.

"Gilda if you’re trying to do what I think you are, please don't do it. You’re not thinking cle-"

"Shut it! This is personal now. I'm taking that buckers horn!" Gilda growls, directing a talon up at you as her breath becomes more and more muddled in its pent up inferno of emotions. She quickly launches off the wooden seat, bolting towards the kitchen door.

But he's not a unicorn...oh Jesus!

"No, Gilda don't!" You yell truly panicked now, launching after her and throwing the table out the way, letting the cutlery and pottery slip and smash into a thousand shards down on the floor. It didn't matter right now. The only thing that mattered right now was stopping Gilda from doing something everyone was going to regret.

You turn the corner, slamming into the wall in your speed as you make a grab for her tail, but with her lead and her naturally quick body, she easily bolts away from you. She doesn't even acknowledge your presence any more as she stares forward with nothing but the most unholy retribution in mind.

You've thought it before, but it still impresses you to no end how quick she was, even while bearing the child. Thank god the doctor said that her sprints didn't affect the child inside or this would have been far worse than it already was.

The point takes a new level of impressiveness as she winds up her powerful hind legs and in one quick effortless motion vaults over the couch, catching her stance with little to no effort. Unfortunately, in your state, you’re not quite so artistic with you gymnastics. You attempt the same thing but the couch clips the tip of your boots causing you to slam face down onto the floor.

Groaning, you hastily try and collect yourself, thankful that you decided against putting a glass table here. Lifting your head up, you grit your teeth, pushing past the pain as you hear the latches of the doors lock turn.

Gilda, please don’t!" you desperately try and concise to the she-griffon as she swings the door open.

However, it would only take a miracle to convince that girl to stop her vengeful pilgrimage to right the wrong that had been sighted to her through her other half. Though she wasn't part of her pride for a very long time, the instinct of the griffon and her pride was still embedded deep into her being.

To protect.

Unfortunately, being a race of two different carnivores and also being pregnant thus hyper emotional as wells as an irritable dry spell in the sex department (that you were going to eventually have to address in a no way embarrassing or uncomfortable talk) gave a new heightened fuel to her anger. As you had come to understand, considering you deep down held these similar instincts hidden behind an aura of civility.
Yes it would take nothing short of cosmic intervention to stop Gilda.

Luckily as the saying goes, when god closes a door he also apparently opens the back window with a cinder block and loots the house.

As quickly as she sprang out Gilda come to a dead stop a gasp leaves her beak, as you in turn freeze in place, you words dying on your tongue as your jaw falls open in dumbfounded shock.

The uncomfortable silence bears down on you like an enormous boulder making it impossible to move, or even think. Gilda’s mood changes entirely as she takes one of two steps back, her beak also matching yours in the agape department.

The figure by the door takes a half-hearted footing inside not out of fear but through twined amusement and befuddlement as it surveys the scene. The wall of white that blocks the doorway raises its eyebrow as she turns her gaze gracefully from the stunted griffon to you.

"Hello my little human. Is this a bad time?"

Oh shit...

Finally after an eternity or two you manage to choke out an appropriate response.

"Hhh-hello Celestia"