Diamond Tiara Dies Alone
Admiral Biscuit
Dear Mrs. Silver Spoon:
It is with heavy heart that I must report Miss Diamond Tiara's latest treatment did not go as well as expected. It is the opinion of the doctors that she has at best a few weeks left on this earth. You and she were once very close; would it be too much to ask for you to travel to the estate for the duration? I understand that you are no 'spring chicken' yourself, and I would be more than willing to assist you in any manner necessary.
Sincerely,
Ocean Breeze
Silver Spoon sighed and set the letter down on her desk, glancing briefly at the neat stack of blank stationery. It wouldn't be too much effort to pen a response. A small smile graced her wrinkled muzzle—memories of playing in the schoolyard were still clear as a bell. Surely it wouldn't be too much of a hardship to travel to Canterlot for a few weeks. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her foalhood friend.
“Bump, bump, sugarlump, rump!” Sweetie Belle lay stretched out in a puddle, her spirit too broken to even stand. Her white coat was splattered with mud, and her lower lip was trembling as she tried not to cry. Apple Bloom galloped around the corner, and when she saw her friend's predicament, her eyes darted to Diamond just long enough to see the challenge flashed there.
A single tear coursed its way down Silver Spoon's cheek.
“Grandma?” Hooves rattled against the wood floor of her study.
“I'm okay, Silver Hart.” She rubbed a hoof against her face, vanishing the traitorous tear. “I just had a . . . moment, that's all.”
“I don't see why you want to stay here.” Silver Hart slowly crossed the office floor and gently nuzzled Silver Spoon's neck. “The house is too big for you to manage on your own, and you're welcome to move in with us.”
“I'm not ready to be put out to pasture just yet.” Silver thumped a hoof against her desk. “Don't you go trying to wrest my home out of my hooves.”
“Grandma! I don't want your house. We've got a nice apartment in Manehattan . . . and there's enough room for you to move in. The great-grandfoals love you, you know.”
“I know.” Silver Spoon nuzzled her back. “I spoil them rotten, don't I?”
Silver Hart rolled her eyes. “Silver Oaks can't stop talking about the wooden train you got him for his fourth birthday. And you had to get Silver Leaves a doll, so she wouldn't feel left out.”
Silver Spoon grinned. “One day, I'm not going to be around anymore.” She motioned around the cozy room. Discolored spots on the wall showed where paintings had once been hung with pride; they'd been sold and replaced with smaller family portraits. “Better my great-grandfoals be spoiled rotten than I leave all of this to a charity for cats.” She wrapped a hoof around Silver Hart and turned her towards the kitchen. “I haven't forgotten my favorite grandfilly, though. Remember how you've always been twisting my leg for my jam cookie recipe? Well, now's your chance—I'm feeling magnanimous.”
Dear Mrs. Silver Spoon,
I regret to inform you that Ms. Diamond Tiara's condition has worsened over the weekend. She is confined to her bed. She often asks about you, and I tell her about your children and grandchildren and great grandchildren. She does so love when I read your letters to her. It would do her good to see you, if you are able. I would be more than happy to help with any travel arrangements.
“Ocean Breeze!”
Her ears flattened at the demanding voice. She glanced down at the half-completed letter, and then pushed it aside, quickly trotting to her mistress' side. With a fake grin firmly plastered across her face, she leaned over the bed where a shriveled pink earth pony grimly clung to life. “Yes, mistress?”
“How come I don't have my afternoon tea? It's teatime.”
Ocean Breeze's eyes flickered over to the grandfather clock. It was seven at night.
A lie is kinder. “The water is on the stove right now. It will only be a few more minutes.”
“A good servant has the tea ready at teatime.” Diamond flailed a hoof at the covers. “Why can't I have my tea on time? Is that too much to ask, Ocean Spray?”
That was my mother. “No, Miss Diamond. I'm sorry.”
“You ought to be.” She crossed her forelegs and gave Ocean Breeze a rheumy stare. “Don't let it happen again, or I'll fire you.”
“Yes, mistress.” Ocean Breeze trotted out of the bedroom, and broke into a gallop once she was sure she was out of earshot. She coaxed the balky stove to life, slamming a kettle onto it as soon as it was full of water.
Her wishes could not make the water boil faster, and one ear was cocked, constantly alert for the sound of either the servant's bell, or Diamond's annoying voice. Neither came before the water heated, and she quickly began steeping a pot of lemon—the only flavor the doctor would allow.
She needn't have bothered. By the time she returned to the bedroom, Diamond was fast asleep, her breath coming in short gasps. Each pause between breaths seemed longer than the last, and Ocean Breeze watched with morbid fascination, wondering if she might see the moment when the movements stopped.
Eventually, she returned to the dining room and finished her letter.
“Here I come, ready or not!” Silver Spoon turned away from the wall and surveyed the living room. Behind a couch, she could see an electric-blue tail just sticking out, and her eyesight wasn't bad enough to miss the way the drapes shifted before settling. When I was a foal, did I think I think such terrible places were good hiding spots? She shook her head. Of course she had.
She stomped across the floor, her hooves echoing in the room. With theatrical moans, she bent down to lift the coffee table, one ear turning off to the side in time to catch the light giggles of Silver Leaves. “Oh, my,” she said loudly. “Nopony is under the coffee table. Now, I wonder where they've got to.”
She kept up the show, even going so far as to lift a potted plant and check behind it, already imagining that Silver Leaves was getting impatient. Sure enough, when she lifted her head, she saw a flash of movement behind the drapes.
I 'found' Silver Leaves first last time, so it's Silver Oaks' turn, she thought, headed for the electric-blue tail. He's prideful . . . I'll let him have a little victory . . . sort of. “Oh, my, I'm so tired from searching for my great-grandfoals.” She trudged across the room, the sparkle in her eyes belying her action. “I'll just sit on the couch and rest a bit.”
She sat down hard, pushing the couch back into the wall. She reached behind her, flailing about with a hoof. “Oh, goodness, it feels like there's something back there.”
“It's me, Nana,” Silver Oaks mumbled.
“I never would have thought to look for you behind the couch,” she said.
“You can come out now, Leafy.” Silver Oaks wormed his way out of his hiding place. “Nana found me.”
“You ain't lying, are you?”
Silver Spoon put a hoof over her mouth to cover a quiet chuckle as Silver Leaf's snout poked out from the curtains. As soon as she saw her brother sitting on the couch, clearly and fairly caught, she galloped through the room, her eager hooves digging into the mohair rug that Silver Spoon had once valued so highly. “Yay, I win!”
“You do!” Silver Spoon ruffled her light green mane. She flicked her ears briefly over at the front door, where the gentle clop of hooves and rattle of a mail slot intruded on her perfect afternoon. Then she turned her attention back to the eager foals on the couch with her. “Nana's getting tired, children. Do you want to play I-Spy?"
Ocean Breeze glanced at the clock for the tenth time in as many minutes. Her chores were done, and she couldn't wait to get out of the house.
At precisely one minute past eleven, the front door opened, and a heavyset mare entered. She bumped the door shut with her hip and walked into the kitchen with a nearly regal grace, nodding her head slightly at Ocean Breeze. “How was she?”
“Slept most of the day.” Ocean Breeze made a show of putting the few dishes on the rack into the cupboards. “I . . . I don't think it'll be much longer.”
“Hmf.” The mare reached back into her saddlebags and pulled out a well-read romance novel. “Did she eat any dinner?”
“Just picked at it. There's leftovers in the fridge.”
“Kay.”
Ocean let out a breath. “Check in on her during the night, will you? She's talking in her sleep. Keeps asking for her friend.”
“Have you . . . had any luck?”
Ocean shook her head. “No, but I keep hoping. It's so sad.”
“I know. What can you do?”
MRS SILVER SPOON [STOP] DIAMOND TIARA PASSED AWAY LAST NIGHT [STOP] IN ACCORDANCE WITH HER WISHES SHE WILL BE BURIED IN THE CANTERLOT GREEN IN THREE DAYS [STOP] A MEMORIAL SERVICE WILL BE HELD THAT MORNING [STOP] I WOULD BE HONORED IF YOU CAN ATTEND [STOP] OCEAN BREEZE
"What's that, Nana?" Silver Oaks asked.
"It's just a telegram."
“Who sent it?" Silver Leaves demanded.
Silver Spoon tossed the telegram in the trash, and looked lovingly at her great grandfoals. "Nopony important. Have I ever told you about the time Princess Luna came to Ponyville for Nightmare Night?”
“Nuh-uh!” Silver Oaks looked at her eagerly. “Did you get to meet her?”
“I did.” Silver Spoon pulled them close. “It was just over a year since Nightmare Moon had been banished.”
Author's Note
A One-Shot-Ober Fic
