Jack of Hearts, Queen of Diamonds

Ten minutes later, and you're both halfway through your second mugs. You're currently shuffling the cards, preparing to teach Maud how to play Blackjack, while the geologist herself watches patiently.

"The rules are simple," you explain, flicking two face-down cards out to Maud. "Get as close to twenty-one as you can without going over it. Kings, Queens and Jacks count as ten, Aces count as either one or eleven, whichever's better at the time."

The mare's hoof nudges the cards over; two sevens.

You clench your teeth together in suck in air uncertainly. "That's fourteen. At this point, you get to choose between getting another card, with the risk of going over twenty-one, or just sticking with what you have and hoping I don't get closer to it than you."

Maud stares at her cards. She takes a long gulp from her mug. "I'll need another seven to get the number I want, but that's unlikely since I already have two of those. I'll stick with these cards."

"Alrighty. In that case I need more than fourteen, but less than twenty-one to win then," you continue, drawing two cards for yourself and flipping them over; a ten and a... two. Darn, so close. "Okay, so in order to get a shot at winning, I'll have to draw another card, and- aw, come on." It's a Queen. You lose.

"Did I win?" Maud Pie asks.

"You won that round, sure," you admit, passing her a poker chip to use as a rudimentary winning token. "First to ten wins?"

"Okay."

*******

Just starting your fourth cider. Eighth win. Maud's on the same cider as you, but only on six wins. Her biggest advantage - her natural poker face - doesn't do much when all the cards are on show.

Of course, she doesn't care. She's actually happy just to be playing with you. How do you know this? She's rambling about rocks. in your profession, whenever a client in your shop is talking freely about their personal lives, it means they're usually confident and cheerful.

"Did you know jade's a type of rock? It's so hard that we used to use it as hammers, fish hooks, axes, you name it, many years back. I want to have a collection of stuff made from jade one day. And other rocks. Rocks are cool."

You also get the impression the cider's working on her. No change in the tone of her voice or her expression, but it's the talkativeness that gives her away. Not that you're doing much better; you barely manage to avoid swaying.

"That's another win for me," you smirk, beating her nineteen with a twenty. "I hope your good-luck charm's still working!"

"Oh. You mean Boulder?" she asks. "He's not a good-luck charm. He's just my pet rock. He's mostly magnesium-rich basalt, and he's very well behaved despite being only two thousand years old."

"Oh," you reply dumbly. In the big city, you've heard of far stranger occurrences than having a rock as a pet, so this strikes you more as a quirk than anything else. Still, it's hard to respond very well to that kind of situation.

"Wanna hold him?" Maud asks when she notices your hesitation. "He doesn't bite."

Ah, screw it. You hold out your hoof and gently scoop up the pebble. You always found basalt to be pretty rough, in your limited experience, but this pebble is unusually smooth to the touch. That would probably be Maud's doing.

"You must've cared for, uh, Boulder for a very long time," you observe, respectfully giving her pet back.

"You must think it's silly, right?" Maud asks. "Caring for an inanimate rock? A lot of ponies think so, but you seem nice. I hope you don't find it weird."

"A lot of ponies in Canterlot care for their bits, or their dresses and tuxedoes, or their custom-built carts and carriages. All of that stuff's inanimate, and they care for them just the same," you explain. "I suppose it's not so different for Boulder here. It might be weird to some, but I think it's sweet."

Either the cider is playing tricks with your mind, or you just witnessed a small blush from Maud Pie.

The blackjack game starts rolling again soon after; Maud scrapes through with another win; a ten and an eight against your twenty-five bust. The score's now seven-nine, according to the stacked tokens on each side of the table. You deal out yet another two cards as Maud theorises aloud on how incredible it would be to discover rare sedimentary argillite on Canterlot mountain.

"Of course, if that's true, I might just be credited if Canterlot becomes a haven for argillite carvings and... stuff..." Her voice trails off when she notices her two cards; a Jack of hearts and a Queen of Diamonds. Two important and influential entities, aside from the obvious King. Especially if you knew them personally.

"Hey, those are good cards, lucky!"

While her face had been the same stony mask throughout the entire night, you could've sworn you could feel the cheery mood grow from within her as the night went on. Suddenly, all of that seems to have drained from her, leaving silence and unease in its place. Even the music from the other room skipped when you noticed. But that could've just been your imagination.

"Can I ask something about your job? As a boutique owner?" she asks without looking up.

A strange question, but you oblige; "Sure, go for it."

"You serve a lot of famous and successful customers, right?" You nod. "Do you know any of them who struck it rich just by knowing the right ponies? Who got their dreams hoofed to them on a silver platter, not because they worked for it, but they had friends who helped them in?"

Of all the things you were expecting her to ask, this was not one of them. "Some ponies are like that, yeah," you finally reply, vaguely waving a hoof. "Some earned their spots fairly though. And some were just lucky. Equestria - no, the whole world - is a mixed bag. Is this about that meeting with those Canterlot officials?"

Maud doesn't nod. She doesn't shake her head either. Despite her behaviour, despite how little detail she's giving away, you know it's exactly that.

"I was given permission to explore Canterlot caverns," she looks up from the cards, but still has difficulty keeping eye-contact with you, "but it wasn't because I'm a good geologist. It's because I'm related to someone more important than me."

More important than me. Those words in particular were uncomfortably sharp. You want to help her, but you need to know more first.

"Would I know them?" you ask, fishing for information; you're quite well-known on the Canterlot scene, so you might recognise the name.

"Do you know my sister Pinkie Pie? She's a good friend of Rarity, who also owns a boutique. They're both Elements of Harmony."

"Pinkie's name rings a bell, but I can't say I know for sure. I've heard my customers mention Rarity plenty of times though," you admit. "Don't let that get to you, though."

Unfortunately, Maud does just that. "Does that mean I didn't really earn this? Is there somepony out there who is a thousand times better at rocks than me, but won't ever get the recognition just because they aren't related to somepony famous?" She looks down, back to the Jack and Queen cards between her hooves. "This is no different. I was good at the poker game. In blackjack, I'm only as good as the cards I'm given. Only as good as the relatives I was born with."

"In blackjack, you get to choose what to do with those cards," you counter. "Nothing else gets in the way, like bluffing or poker-faces. It's all down to your own decision to hit or stay."

Maud says nothing, her face as stoic as ever. You like to believe those words of wisdom helped, but she's still nowhere near at peace with it.

"Tell me, did Pinkie get where she is now by having it given to her?" you ask. "Or did she earn it?"
Maud doesn't answer for a while. Finally, she finds the right words. "She earned her power as an Element... by having it given to her. No. It wasn't given to her... but entrusted." After that, she takes another swig of cider. You follow her example.

"Then perhaps you shouldn't think of this as a silver platter. Think of it more as a stepping stone," you explain.

Maud blinks. "But I don't need a stepping stone. I don't... I don't deserve..."

"Of course you deserve one!" you blurt out. You've seen this situation countless times with the Canterlot elite. Once again, a pony's confidence - and with it, potential future - is at risk from the single biggest critic she has; herself. Those two beautiful, turquoise eyes meet with yours. While you can't tell her expression, her eyes say everything; she's confused. Doubting herself. And most of all, she's pleading for help. She just doesn't know how to say it.

"You've worked so hard for this chance, Maud. Even I can see that," you tell her. "I know it's not how you imagined it playing out, but almost nothing plays out perfectly, no matter how well it's planned. When something bad happens to a good pony, we know they don't deserve it, but they still have to live it. And when something good happens, we're all so quick to second-guess ourselves over it! It's too good to be true, we probably don't deserve it! And that sort of thinking is just us poisoning ourselves!"

You unthinkingly place your hoof over Maud's as it rests on the table. She balks just a little at the contact, but doesn't object to it.

"In the end, our lives are as controllable as the cards we're dealt," you finish. "Never be afraid to use what you're given."
Maud looks back down to her cards and, strangely, the pebble she left next to them. Finally, she speaks.

"You know, I'm usually not good with parties, unless they're my sister's. I came here because you were so nice to me back at the clothes shop, and didn't want to disappoint you. And I kind of wanted to see you again." The mare rises from her seat, and canters over to you. "I'm glad I did. Here; it's not much, but you deserve something."

To your surprise, she takes both fore-hooves and wraps them around your shoulders in an awkward, but warm hug.
Her hooves feel firm and unmoving around you, her head resting lazily on your shoulder. Her mane teases your nostrils with the scent of tilled earth and, to your curiosity, freshly cut grass. Throwing caution to the wind, you raise your own hooves and gently place them on her shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. The noise of the party beyond the dining room door fades away in the moment, granting you the chance to close your eyes and enjoy the shared silence.

"Thank you for making me feel better," Maud whispers in your ear. "Nearly all of my hugs are reserved for my sister, but you're also good. And it might be because I've had several ciders," she adds. Despite her claims, her voice is remarkably articulate.

"Um, you don't have to say yes," you ask quietly, "but if you want, we can call this card game off and go for a dance. That is, if you're up for it."

Keeping her grip on you, Maud leans out of the hug to meet your eyes. "I've never tried dancing before. I'm probably not that good at it. Sorry."

"That's okay. Most of the party-goers here can't dance either," you chuckle.

"It's a shame there's no ice rink here," she says. You can almost see a wistful glimmer in her eyes. "I'd show them how to move if that was the case."

A spark of inspiration flickers within your head. "You can ice-skate?"

"My sisters say I'm like a pro."

"You know, dancing and ice-skating aren't all that different," you say. It's worth a shot.

"A twirl here, a jump there, all to the rhythm of a song." she replies, her cider-addled mind seeing the connection. "And sometimes it's made all the better with a partner."

You offer the pony your hoof, inviting her to dance. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Maud?"
With that, she clasps her hoof over yours.

*******

The main room bounces with a playful melody from the record player. The party is in full swing!

The zebra couple seem to be taking the dance floor by storm, their moves given a Zebrican twist as they dance like flowing water. Compare that to the buffalo dancing next to them, and it's a wonder you don't get noise complaints. Two of the breezies are flittering around the room in time to the music, the third one already snoozing by its shot-glass. The dragon girl's off to the side, watching all the other dancers in amazement as she nibbles her recently-made popcorn. Dragons aren't really familiar with most types of dancing, unless it’s based around aggression or some kind of martial art.

Pushing the dining room door aside, you and Maud are greeted by the changeling and minotaur couple, who freeze mid-sneak. Perhaps they've had enough socializing.

"Oh, hey," Tarsus grins as politely as a sharp-toothed changeling can. "We're just slipping away from the party to, uh, rest for a while. Can we use the guest room again for some, er, peace and quiet?"

Straton tries to imitate the same pleading grin as his changeling boyfriend. Judging by the blushes forming on both of them, it's pretty obvious what they really want the guest room for.

"Resting, huh?" you smirk cheekily. "Peace and quiet. Sure. Go for it. Just don't leave a mess, okay? Clean up after yourselves."

Their reddening faces as they slipped past you, and into the guest room, bordered on hilarious.

Maud Pie's next words, however, are the icing on the cake; "They plan to have sex."

You chuckle. "More room on the dance floor for us, right?"

Her eyes flick between you and your hoof, and then the other dancers. "Just think of it like ice skating," she says aloud, either to you or to herself. She couples her hoof with your own. Despite her nerves, her hoof is dry, calm, with no trembling at all. Perhaps the cider's given her courage.

And just as the next song starts up, you and Maud place your hooves down and dance, letting her ice-skating experience translate onto the dance floor. When she steps, you step with her. When she twirls, you hold her steady. And when she jumps, you catch her, all in time with the music. One by one, the many party-goers stop their own jig to look on in awe (except for the Zebra couple, but they just seem to be too entranced with their down native dancing to notice).

The song felt longer than it actually was. As the music reaches its climactic ending, Maud twirls up next to you, and quickly whispers in your ear; "Throw me upwards."

There's no time to doubt your trust in her. Obliging, you fling her with a twist. She whirls around in mid-air to the sound of everyone else exclaiming in shock, before landing flawlessly in your instinctively outstretched limbs. As shocked as you are at her amazing versatile display, your body remembers to strike a cool pose with her just as the song ends.

The record player is quickly drowned out by cheering from all around, everyone coming up to give props to your dancing geologist friend, sometimes even offering to get her a drink as well. She accepts with the biggest smile you've ever seen Maud make. Which is to say, a small smile, but a very, very precious one.