Chapters Jack of Hearts, Queen of Diamonds
Part 2: A Merry Mix of Misfits, and Maud
You consider yourself a jack who likes his job.
You like the grateful smiles of a pony who's found his or her perfect style. You like the harmless bouts of banter as they scan the many racks of clothes, or their “Aha!” moments when they pick out the right accessory they feel goes best with their attire. Today, however, has left you with an apprehensive chip on your shoulders.
Maud said she'd be at the party if she were successful. That's tonight. But you gave her no way to get in contact with you prior to that. The clock on the wall tells you it's nearly time of the afternoon tea break before closing. She could be getting ready for the cider-bash right now, as happy as can be, ready to celebrate the success of her meeting.
Or she could already be on the train back to her rock farm, wallowing in failure. If it's the latter, you can't help but feel sorry for her. The real pain is that you'll never know until the party. And to be frank, the tea breaks just let your mind wonder in one of two directions; either you start worrying about whether or not Maud got her wish, or you start fondly recalling Maud's beauty.
Just as you're about to prepare more caffeine to sip down, the shopkeeper's bell brings you back into focus. None other than Sapphire Shores herself stands in the doorway, striking a pose fit for a theatre pantomime.
"Well, not only would I call this shop The Smart Ass," she sassily declares, "I would call this the Smartest Shop in Canterlot!" Normally, any and every other clothing store owner in Canterlot would be gobsmacked to see such a famous pony in their shop. You, on the other hoof, are smarter than that.
"Sapphire Shores." You give her the service-with-a-smile grin that you greet every customer with. "Such a pleasure to see you! But I thought you were currently doing a stage production in Fillydelphia."
Sapphire's eyes become blank for the briefest of moments. "Oh! Uh, it was cancelled before I left due to, uh, Parasprite attacks again. Yeah."
"What about the Vanhoover gig? That's still on, right?"
"Ah, of course! That's why I'm here, you see. I need an, er, outfit for whatever that gig is."
"That's nice," you reply. "Because I just made those two events up. Drop the act, Tarsus."
"Tch!" Sapphire Shores stamps her hooves in frustration, and in a flash of green magic, the form of a male changeling takes her place, shiny black chitin and all. "Admit it, I had you going for a minute there, donkey boy!"
"As if," you jest back at him.
While changelings are often treated with suspicion within Canterlot's walls, you've come to trust this particular one. It's a fair deal, honestly; You let him bunk at your apartment regularly - while he technically sleeps in the "guest room", he gets special permission to use it whenever he's there. In return, Tarsus works at the shop to act as a model for clothes of all different shapes and sizes; a major benefit of being able to assume any body type you want.
"Are you coming to the cider-bash tonight?" you ask.
"Don't I always?" he grins, giving you a friendly hoof-bump. "The acceptance in that place always has enough love to keep me ticking by for weeks! Speaking of love..." he leans on your counter, giving quite noticeable flirty eyes. "Will a certain hunky minotaur be there as well?"
"Who, Straton? He's usually there, yeah. I heard you two were, uh, sleeping in the guest room last cider bash." Despite there being no-one else in the shop, you lean in and lower your voice all the same. "Did you two really hit it off?"
"Oh yeah. We totally did." the changeling makes what ponies would call a 'squee', displaying his fangs. "Multiple times."
"Does he know you're a changeling?"
"Very much so."
"Does he know you're a guy?"
"Yes, he's totally cool with it. Turns out he swings both ways!" Tarsus leans in a smidge closer. "I should know; when I say 'multiple times', I mean multiple forms as well, and he loved each one."
You whistle in surprise. "Never would've guessed, seeing how confident he is with mares. Anyway," you say, bringing the attention back to the time at hand. "You might as well make yourself comfortable in the back kitchen. I'll be done with my shift soon. And yes, you can have tea if you're making me one as well."
"Yeah, yeah, I know,” Tarsus waves away your joshing. He knows the drill by now.
*******
Two hours later, you unlock the door to your apartment, allowing a hulking minotaur to roll four barrels' worth of cider through at once.
"Next time we need more cider," Tarsus pants, changing back into his original form, "get the real minotaur to do it!"
"The real minotaur volunteers most of the time," you reply. "Straton really digs heavy lifting for some reason. Probably a cultural thing."
Letting your changeling friend set up the vinyl records as usual, you strategically place the barrels throughout the flat. Two in the main room, where the record player resides. One in the kitchen, where most of the snacks would be stored, and some visitors like to chat away from the music. And one in the dining room, where card games are often played.
Slowly, the regulars start to turn up; your donkey friends, two of which are dating a set of griffon twins. A cluster of open-minded ponies - of all three races, mind - you've had the pleasure of meeting during business hours. The happily married zebra couple, bearing their usual tupperware tubs of hot curry and naan bread. A young, sassy dragon girl, who brings a bag of corn kernels. You point her towards the kitchen so she can whip up her "homemade popcorn" in peace, without even needing to turn on the stove.
Two buffalo show up, brandishing their wild rice salad. One buffalo is well known for being a hit with the regular ponies (mares especially, you don't know how he does it). Three breezies, unable to carry their own food or drink gift, considering their size. This is fine by you; give them a shot-glass of cider and a potato chip each, and they're full-bellied for the whole night.
And finally, your aforementioned minotaur friend, Straton, bringing a whole tub of cottage cheese. He likes his protein.
"Well hello to you too, gorgeous," he chuckles, pecking the changeling on the cheek. All in all, they make a rather cute couple.
But still no Maud. She must've failed her meeting.
"Are you okay, dude?" Tarsus asks, still being held damsel-style by his - well, you suppose boyfriend now.
"I'm fine, but I was really expecting someone else to turn up tonight," you sigh. "I hoped they'd show up, but I guess it's not meant to be." Your heart sinks just a little bit as you say it out loud.
"Who, the Diamond Dog guy?" Straton asks.
"What? No, I meant a pony called Mau-" Oh wait! You invited that Diamond Dog too! "Uh, listen, could you two do me a favour and let more guests in while I'm away? I gotta see if our canine friend even remembers his invite!"
A few minutes later, you're gently knocking on a certain beast's apartment door; you've never actually knocked on for him before, so it's best to be as courteous as you can. You hear some grunting, the sound of a prosthetic leg being snapped on, and a hobbling thud-clack, thud-clack sound drawing closer to the door. The door opens, revealing the bulky mass of a Diamond Dog that looms over you. Of course, you're undeterred. You know he's a good guy, really.
"Oh hey, there you are!" you greet him with a cheerful smile. "I was just wondering if you're still up for that cider bash I mentioned earlier."
A brief moment of realisation flashes upon the brute's face, as if he's only just remembered. "Sure, why not?" he replies, brandishing his serrated teeth in a way that was probably meant to be friendly.
Upon returning to the party and ushering your new friend through the apartment door, you discover that Tarsus has already broken out the classic, rollicking songs. He's even showing off his latest transformations to his little circle of friends, including his latest Sapphire Shores impersonation. That's fair, it's about that time in the night.
The Diamond Dog is still in shock about the party; you wager he's dumbfounded by the diversity. You offer him the chance to play some poker in the dining room, but he turns it down, preferring to mingle with the others in the main room. You don't blame him.
On your way to the poker table, Tarsus stops his disguising trick to catch up to you.
"Did anyone else turn up while I was out?" you ask.
"Yeah. An earth pony mare," he shrugs. "Didn't recognise her though."
Wait. Could that be-?
"Grey fur, violet mane?" you take a shot in the dark.
"How'd you know?"
Maud! She made it! "Where did she go?"
"Dining room, I think."
"Thanks." You head there, trying not to make yourself look too eager. All the same, you can't help but have a spring in your step.
The door to the dining room was already open; the solid, round table in the centre of the room was already being used for a poker table. Glancing around the table, it seems like the game of the day is Appleloosa Hold'em; a popular choice for hoofed folk, as they only have to hold two cards at a time. The rest are dealt by a unicorn who isn't playing. but simply presiding over it between sips of his mug, happy to sit and banter with the others.
To your surprise, Maud Pie's not only joining in on the game... she's also winning.
The plastic, circular poker chips seem to be favouring Maud's side of the table, surrounding a barely-touched tankard of cider and, oddly enough, the same pebble she was carrying in the shop when you last met her. Not only is she causing the other two players to sweat, but she's also drawing quite the crowd around her.
Trying to keep a calm demeanour, you stroll up to the unicorn dealing the cards, and spark up a quick chat as you pour yourself a cider from the nearby barrel.
"So, what are the stakes on this?" you ask.
"Nothing, this is just a social game; the chips aren't attached to any real coin. The earth pony said she's never played before and wanted to try it out."
"She's doing well for a first timer," you think aloud. You know full well that Maud can hear you. In fact, you give her a smile when she briefly takes her eyes away from her cards. Whether or not she's happy to see you is anyone's guess.
"She's doing great," the unicorn responds. "If she's never played the game before, she's certainly been practising a poker-face."
The other two players - another donkey and one of the griffon twins - exchange worried glances when Maud asks how many chips they both have left.
"Uh, out of the fifty we started with, we both have ten chips each," the griffon scratches her beak uneasily. "You've got the rest of them, pony."
The unicorn reveals the flop - the first three cards that make up a shared pool in the centre of the table.
"That's nice," said Maud, pushing some plastic disks forward. "I'll raise ten chips."
"Gah! Of course you would!" the griffon tries not to make her voice squawk. "But I'm onto you now, pony! I'm calling your bluff! All in for me!"
The other donkey hums to himself, looking between the three cards in the centre, and the two under his hooves.
Wordlessly, he pushes the last of his chips forward as well. When the last of the shared cards are dealt, and each player's hand is revealed, to say that Maud won that game is quite the understatement.
"Huh. You weren't bluffing after all," the griffon blinks dumbly. "Good game. Thankfully we weren't playing for real money."
"Would anyone here like to?" the unicorn queries.
"Pfft, not against her, I'm not. Might as well throw the Bits off Canterlot mountain and get it over with," and with that, both the griffon and the donkey make their excuses and head to another room; presumably to dance, and almost certainly to drink. Maud remains in her seat at the table, neatly stacking the plastic chips and cards into the centre as the crowd disperses, card-dealing unicorn and all.
You decide this is the best time to make your move.
"Wow, you did great back there!" you chirp, taking one of the previously occupied seats to face Maud Pie, poker-winner of exactly zero bits. "Glad you could make it to the party! Does this mean your meeting was a success?"
"Yes. Thank you." Even for Maud, those words felt devoid of feeling. She goes back to making the chip-piles nice and neat.
"Is something wrong?"
The earth pony's hooves stop when she hears that. One of them starts stroking the nearby pebble - you assume at this point it's a good-luck charm of some kind - on instinct.
"You're the first one to ask me that so far tonight," she finally says. "Or maybe you're the first one to notice. I don't know." She pauses for a moment in thought, then takes a sip from her wooden mug.
"Wanna talk about it?"
She lowers her cider. "No."
You wait for a moment to see if she's going to follow that up with anything else. She doesn't. You opt for a solution more suited to parties.
"Wanna forget all about it? Just for tonight?" you hold your own tankard of cider aloft, offering her the chance to toast you with her own. Maud looks at your mug in silence, weighing her options.
"A fair warning," she says, "I come from a family with a party animal in it. I could probably drink you under the table."
"And seeing as I'm a stubborn donkey," you reply, "I'll have to ask you to prove that."
You could've sworn the corners of her mouth curled upwards for a moment when she heard that. Without another word, you both knock your wooden mugs together with a nice, solid CLACK , and simultaneously quaff the cool, tangy cider within. Maud's empty mug hit the table only slightly quicker than yours did. She exhales sharply from the rush of drinking, her face as much of a stony mask as ever.
"So that's one each?" she asks.
You nod, and gesture towards the keg on the nearby shelf. "While everyone else is partying in the other rooms, we might as well take advantage of that free keg."
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?"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."
"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.
"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?"
*******
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.
Jack of Hearts, Queen of Diamonds
Part 4: Rocked until Tender (Mature)
The party ambles along for the rest of the night as you and Maud continue to mingle with the other guests. She finally looks like she's out of her shell, and despite the clearly unusual mannerisms she has, it's all but unnoticed among the other guests. Probably because they're also too drunk to care.
Eventually, they begin to trickle out of your home. First the buffalo, and the griffon-donkey couples soon after. Tarsus and Straton still haven't left the guest room, and it's safe to assume they're staying there until the morning. As for that Diamond Dog, he's nowhere to be seen - you guess he already left.
Eventually, the party winds down with only you and Maud remaining on the main room's sofa, sitting closer and closer to each other. The whole process is so slow and steady - like that of a rock, you suppose - that you don't even notice until she's sitting on your lap and your legs start to feel warm. She's good.
And it's hot. In your experience with mares at parties - something a rich fellow like yourself is all to familiar with - this is your cue.
"It's getting late, and nearly everyone's left," you lean forward, whispering into Maud's ear. "The guest room's full, but if you want you can sleep in my bed tonight."
Maud Pie always seemed to have half-lidded eyes due to her off-violet eyeliner, but you can clearly tell that she's giving you the 'bedroom eyes' right now. "Only if there's room for two."
That settles it. Without any more hesitation, you take Maud by the hoof and lead her into your bedroom. You push the door open, and you both eagerly enter. It closes, and before you know it, Maud's lips are up against yours. Her kiss is stiff, yet passionate, as if she's doing everything she can to make her kiss as flawless as possible, and it's showing. It's strange - like Maud - but just as wonderful.
The kiss breaks without going any further than her lips; no tongue, not that you mind. You can tell she's feeling as amorous as you are right now. With her hoof still coupled with your own, she leads you to your own bed with as much elegance as she had during the dance. It's almost like the drink hasn't affected her at all.
Maud pushes you backwards, causing you to fall safely towards your bed. You grab her outstretched hoof with your own, taking her with you. She lands perfectly draped over you, her flesh and your own separated only by her blue gown. She stops to appreciate the moment with a fond, quiet regard; she must be able to feel your heartbeat. Oddly, you feel something else, something small and hard, in her front pocket.
Maud feels it too. "Wait a minute," she says, pulling herself up slightly. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out her pet rock. "If we're gonna go any further than this, I don't think Boulder should be watching. It doesn't feel right."
"Um," you glance around for a quick fix, before pulling open your bedside drawer. "It's a cool, dry place. He'll be safe there."
"Thanks." Without another word, she delicately drops the pebble in the drawer and pushes it shut.
And then its immediately back to kissing, just as stiff as before, but she slowly learns to unwind. The faintest tease of her tongue starts pressing against your lips, as if she can't decide whether or not to go further. You cautiously help her out, bringing your own tongue to meet hers. You feel her tongue recoil at first, so you back off with your own. After a moment of uncertainty, her tongue returns, gently testing your own. You let her explore your mouth for a while, experimentally licking as she shares her hot breath in steady sighs of pleasure. Your loins begin to awaken, but you try not to pay it any mind.
You finally work up the courage to move your own tongue again, reassuringly meeting with hers, gently joining in a warm, wet embrace. Maud's breathing gets heavier as a muted hum of a moan escapes her, the gentle vibration noticeable through her tongue. Meanwhile, your hooves begin to get a mind of their own. At first, they were gently stroking Maud's shoulders to put her at ease. Now, they've made their way to her waist, feeling the smooth fabric of her blue gown.
Once you reach her soft, warm flank, she breaks the kiss with a gasp. An awkward moment of silence follows as she stares into your eyes with a mild shock, your hooves still clasped onto her rear. Her face is completely red.
"Sorry. Am I going too far?" you ask. "I can tone it down if you-"
She responds by unclipping the belt from around her gown and lifting the clothes over her head in a single, swift action. And now she's there, with all her naked glory, lying on top of you.
"-want."
A slow second ticks by. Maud Pie, with her flesh finally making contact with your own, and yourself, taking in her blushing features. Her usual stoic expression is still there, but for you, everything about her is crystal clear.
Any faint sign of reluctance is long gone. Maud throws herself at you, her unusual strength sending you straight down into the mattress. Her face rushes to meet yours, and your lips once again meet. You happily oblige her as your hooves explore her new, naked body. Her own hooves hold you tightly, with a vigour that suggests she may not let go for the rest of the night. That's fine by you.
At this point, your loins are standing to full attention, trapped between your body and hers as it presses into her firm, toned abdomen. She notices the throbbing, and slightly shifts her body, setting your shaft free for a moment, then rearranging herself to it sits comfortably between her thighs, but with no penetration. In fact, you can feel the softness of her buttocks massaging either side of it.
Either out of instinct, or because she can feel the warmth of your shaft, Maud deliberately moves her hips to a steady rhythm, brushing herself against your cock. With a pleasurable sigh, you join in with the gentle thrusting, teasing her little by little as you rub yourself against her.
Your hooves once again find themselves at her toned yet soft rump, where you test the waters with a squeeze. Her lips part from yours, gasping in response to your hoof, before she shudders in arousal and dives back into the kiss, if only to lessen the chance of her moaning in bliss. In fact, you think she actually enjoys that. Of course, there's only one way to be sure. Amidst the playful pleasure happening with your hips, you squeeze again, slightly harder.
"Mmmph- aaaaaah," another break just to vocalise her pleasure, louder this time, then it's back to kissing with renewed vigour. Yes, she definitely likes it. Her own hooves seem to be gripping you tighter as well. This might just be her own personal turn-on; it's lucky that you happened across it.
If that's true, you wonder how close Maud might be to climax. The building pressure in your loins tells you you're getting close yourself. Not before her, though. And if squeezing her rump makes turns her on so much, you think you know just how to bring her to the brink of it.
Trying not to focus on the delightful dance of tongues, or the velvet-like caress of her rump against your cock, you hover your hoof just above her rock-themed cutie mark. Then you silently count to five in your head, pulling your hoof back further and further...
And on the fifth count, you fling your hoof across her backside with a swift, solid SMACK.
Every one of Maud's muscles tense. Her eyes suddenly widen in surprise with a sharp, wordless intake of breath. Her hooves release their grip on you, driving into the mattress in an attempt to keep herself steady. With an uncontrollable flick of her tail, a shuddering jolt of arousal runs through her.
To your surprise, you can feel your shaft suddenly grow warm with the trickling of her own sexual release. For a split second, she moans. Loudly. But an instinctive hoof rises and covers her mouth. You still feel a rhythmic dripping of her secretion, almost in time with her own rushing heartbeat as she tries to regain control of herself.
Her orgasm eventually subsides. She lowers the hoof from her mouth with a gasp, revealing the blush behind her cheeks. She stares at you awkwardly, not sure whether she should apologise, thank you, or even scold you. Instead, she settles for the obvious.
"I, um. I came."
Between Maud's unusually vocal reaction, and the throb of your own loins begging for more, you can barely respond. "Y-yeah. Sorry if I got a little carried away there, I was just-"
"Do it again." Maud's unyielding gaze bores through your eyes. Even with your limited knowledge of how Maud works, you can tell just how serious she is. "Please."
Without another word, you smile and gently push her to the side, freeing yourself from her firm hooves. Maud gives you a curious look, but remains still and patient, wondering what you plan to do. Soon enough, it becomes apparent. Instead of her lying over you face-to-face, you arrange yourself over her in the more traditional way ponies would mate, with Maud on all fours and you behind her. Here, you have easier access to her ample backside, and a much better view of it.
But rather than just diving in, you decide to ease her back into her sense of arousal. You carefully slide your shaft, still eager for release, between her buttocks again, but this time from a more comfortable angle. Your hooves start teasing her flank once again, as Maud asked. Or demanded. Or begged. It's hard to tell with her.
You start off with a simple flick of your hoof against her cutie mark. Maud hums to herself, and stretches her body with a sigh. An enjoyable sight to behold, especially when her backside rises just a little, presenting herself as if she's inviting you to go just a little harder. Her rear backs up into your cock, and the feeling of it being swathed by the two warm sides of her rump sends another ripple of exhilaration through you. It's almost too much to take.
You can hardly hear Maud's whisper once you come back to your senses; "Harder."
Of course, that's exactly what you plan to do. Waiting a moment to recuperate from your own throbbing bliss that threatens to break free, you take a deep breath and wind up for another strike. You throw some force into it, enjoying the gratifying sound of hoof-on-flesh. Maud's whole body shivers again, and for a moment, you think she's about to climax for the second time that night. Instead, she lets out a moan, letting her forelegs buckle so she can rest her overwhelmed head on the nearby pillow. Perhaps unintentionally, her subtle-violet tail starts to drift from side to side in anticipation. Instinctively, you grab it with your free, non-smacking hoof and watch it wrap flirtatiously up your own foreleg.
"Harder."
For good measure, you prepare to give her flank one more solid hit. For the sake of experimentation, you gently pull back her enveloping tail. If she likes it rough, then maybe...
SMACK. One hoof collides with her backside again, savouring the firm, but noticeable ripple as it hits. The other hoof gives Maud's tail a hard tug before her body can recuperate from the spanking.
The risk pays off; Maud's body melts from under you, becoming hot, sexy putty in your hooves. Her moaning becomes so intense that she drives her face into the pillow to muffle the sound. Another few droplets of her own juices drip from her wide, inviting vulva, so close to your begging cock that's still nestled between her round, reddening, buttocks.
She almost wasn't prepared for such a rush, but neither were you. The siren song of her moans as she approaches climax, the steamy sliding of your shaft against her, the excitement that comes from her desperate calls for more...
Your impending release almost takes you by surprise, but you just barely manage to pull yourself back from the brink of orgasm. However, a small spurt of precum manages to escape you with a shudder of brief elation. Looking down at Maud, you discover that she isn't faring much better; her face is still buried in your pillow, just in case she needs to scream in pleasure again. You can feel every beat of her racing heart, and see a single droplet of her secretion drip forth from her with every pulse. She's very much on the cusp of breaking too. You're both so close to orgasm that it hurts.
You cautiously remove your cock from between her buttocks, and position it gently on the outside of her vagina. No penetration, but just brushing against it. Just to let her know it's there.
You draw breath to ask if she's okay with you going inside her, but the moment your cock touches her, she hungrily drives her whole lower body into it, giving you the answer you wanted before you could even put words to them. The warm, wet act of sliding into her urges a gasp from you, that involuntarily becomes a loud moan as you exhale.
The very feeling of being inside Maud sends you hurtling towards the point of no return. As such, you get straight into the action while you still can. Your spanking hoof grabs a firm hold of her flank, steadying yourself as you thrust harder and deeper into her. The hoof with her tail still wrapped around it gives it the occasional sharp tug in time with your thrusting.
Maud herself is still pressed into the pillow, her yells stopping only to raise her head, take a breath, then resume her shrill song of exhilaration. Inside her, you can feel her fluids flowing at full force, coating your shaft with more and more lubrication.
You try to yourself hold back for longer, you truly do, but the sexual thrill overwhelms you and finally breaks your resolve. Thrusting as much as you can with what little time you have left, you stop trying to hold back, and give in to your natural instincts. The climax hits you so hard you flinch as it strikes. Your seed bursts forth again and again as your senses ring out in bliss.
Maud's cries of pleasure finally die down to soft moans of relief. With a shiver of satisfaction, the blissful orgasm becomes a warm afterglow, you finally pull your spent self out of her. As soon as you're out, she collapses onto the mattress and rolls over to face you. Despite her usual enigmatic expression, Maud's face is blushing a deep red. At first you reasonably assume it's an afterglow, until the look in her eyes reveals it to be more like embarrassment.
"Um. Wow." Maud's voice had returned to its original monotone style. "I was not expecting myself to be so vocal back there. That usually doesn't happen. I suppose I lost control. Sorry if that was rather loud. Hopefully the pillows muffled it enough."
"No need to apologise for having a good time," you tenderly lower yourself over her, not in a sensual way, but in a comforting sense. Admittedly, Maud wasn't your first mare who enjoyed the rougher side of romance. As such, you know how important the concept of aftercare is. "Your flank doesn't hurt too much, does it? I know I was pulling your tail pretty hard..."
Maud's forehooves rise to wrap around your shoulders. You lie there with her below you, enjoying the respite together. "Actually I've never had anypony - or donkey - try that sort of thing before. I liked it a lot more than I thought I would."
You give her a calm smile, glad that she enjoyed herself. You took a risk with the rowdier approach, but it was clear she could take it. Better yet, she enjoyed it. Without another word, you go in to complete the hug. To your surprise, Maud subtly moves her head upwards, causing her lips to meet your own. There's no tongue this time; just the shared embrace of two beings who enjoyed each other's company. In time, the kiss breaks, and Maud's head rests upon your chest. You lie back in your pillow, contented and happy, as you both slip into a pleasant slumber.
Jack of Hearts, Queen of Diamonds
Part 5: The Missing Morning Maud
The pleasant glow of daylight from behind your closed curtains bring you into the waking world. Your head's surprisingly clear this morning; no hangover.
Mind you, while you would often spend the night drinking, last night had far more in the way of talking to a new friend, and romancing. Also, vigorous spanking, tail pulling, and thrusting. A smile curls onto your lips as you recall that.
You turn over. Maud's not there. She's must've gone to the Canterlot Palace like she said she would.
Sitting up in surprise, you pull open your bedside drawer. Boulder's gone too. Of course she wouldn't forget her silent companion. A pang of regret starts in your chest; you wish you'd at least said goodbye to her before she left.
You half-yawn, half-sigh. The scent of fried eggs and toast make for a pleasant surprise to your nostrils as you inhale. Seeing little reason to remain in bed, you pull yourself from the covers to investigate who exactly is cooking breakfast.
On the way, you notice the door to the guest room is part way open. You spy the black, chitinous form of Tarsus curled up in the pillows, snoozing away. Adding two and two together, you reason that his minotaur boyfriend was the one taking command of your kitchen.
You were right. "Morning," Straton gives you an over-the-shoulder nod as he slouches over the donkey-sized stove, tending to a few eggs in a frying pan. "I'll pay you back for the eggs and stuff. I'm just whipping up something for Tarsus. We were a little, uh, thorough last night. Took a lot outta him."
"Do I want to know the details?" you ask.
Straton raises an eyebrow. "Do you?"
Hmm. Perhaps not. No matter how versatile a changeling is, if you're sharing a bed with a minotaur, the word "sore" is gonna crop up at some point in that story. You respectfully decline.
You also reach the conclusion that Tarsus probably won't make it to his afternoon shift at the boutique. It's probably best to fill in for him while you're the better off of the two; he always pays his dues when needed.
*******
Fortifying yourself with the usual cup of tea, you take a seat behind the counter. It may have been just past noon by the time you got to your boutique, but most customers appear in the afternoon anyway, so any losses were minimal. Placing the steaming mug behind one of the many hidden shelves under said counter, you rise to greet your first customer as they enters the shop.
"Hello, and welcome to The Smart Ass , how can I help y-" Wait a minute; that's not any old customer! "You!"
"Yep," the familiar, toothily-grinning form of the Diamond Dog, prosthetic leg and all, looms over you. "Me."
"This is an unexpected surprise," you say, shifting from a customer-serving smile to a less formal one. "How did you like the Cider Bash last night?"
"It was good. Enlightening." He shrugs. "I guess you were partying longer than I was, though."
"You could say that..." the memories of Maud, specifically the bedroom antics you shared, spring to mind. "I was with this stunning mare at the bash. We played some card games, danced a while. Best poker face you've ever seen, and she was a hottie to boot! Totally into yours truly as well. A real traditional mare from..." You decide to stop before going into any more detail. "Well, I'm rambling, aren't I?"
"Yeah," the beastly customer grunts. "You are."
Talk about being blunt, "Oh. What, er, brings you to my humble clothes shop?" you ask.
"Clothes."
Wow, this guy's on a roll.
"Fancy clothes," he adds. "Ones that you'd go to a really nice restaurant in, but not the snooty kind of restaurant."
Wait, did he meet someone at the cider bash? Is that why he left early? Did he actually land a date!?
"Say no more, pal." you chirp, beckoning him toward the fitting rooms. "Follow me, I know a great selection. But uh, this will mostly be tuxedo tops, as it is quite difficult to fit you with tuxedo pants."
"Why? Because I'm missing a leg?" he growls.
"No, because almost none of the ponies here actually wear fancy pants. Not even Fancy Pants."
*******
You're rather proud of what you accomplished here today.
You were able to whip up a perfectly-fitted tuxedo jacket, complete with pockets and stitched from the best materials you had in stock. After giving thanks, the Diamond Dog plopped the perfect amount of Bits on your counter and hobbled away. You hope he impresses his mystery date.
After a few hours of processing orders from the usual Canterlot public, you think about calling it a day. Since you only started working around noon, the day flew by faster than usual. Just as you're clearing the boutique for closing time, you hear the shopkeeper's bell jingle behind you.
Turning around, you're greeted by those two stunning turquoise eyes that make your heart skip. The rest of Maud Pie is a mild silhouette of beauty in the door frame. She's wearing the smart attire she bought yesterday. She’s just as stunning in it as she was the day before.
"Hello," she says, her inscrutable voice as calming as ever. "I'm sorry if I didn't say goodbye to you this morning."
"Oh, don't apologise, Maud," you insist, "I just wish I was up first! I'd have made you breakfast."
"It's alright," she replies. "I woke up earlier than I usually would anyway. I wanted to explore the Canterlot Palace caves as soon as I was allowed. I guess you could say I have a hunger for knowledge."
"Really?" While you have absolutely no interest in most rocks, you know Maud would appreciate it if you asked; "How was it?"
"Strange." Her eyebrows lower just a little bit. "The vast majority of rocks in there are sedimentary, but there are crystals throughout the whole thing. Crystals usually mean igneous rock, or at the very least metamorphic. Stranger still, the mountains seems to have diatomite deposits, which only occur when a large amount of skeletal marine life is in the area. I wonder if Canterlot Mountain used to be underwater."
Half of those words went right over your posh donkey head, but still, it doesn't stop you from showing an interest. You got the last part, at least.
"Perhaps someday soon, you'll find out," you encourage her. "How long are you staying in Canterlot?"
"A month, maybe more. At least until my hunger for knowledge is sated."
"in that case, I hope that's not the only thing you're hungry for right now." Even through you'd gone all the way with Maud just last night, you can't help but feel an uneasiness in your stomach from what you're about to say; "Because I want to make it up to you for the lack of breakfast. Would you like to join me for dinner tonight?"
There, that wasn't so hard. You've asked mares out plenty of times before, why is this time to different?
Maud's expression doesn't change one bit. Instead, she just blinks. "I'm already dressed for the occasion, aren't I?"
Of course! Why would she explore caves in her smart clothes? She must've come prepared to date you right here and now! You knew there was something special about her.
"In that case," you offer her a gentlecoltly hoof, "lead the way."
Maud's eyes - and the corners of her lips - smile. She happily takes up your hoof, and your offer.
"If there's somewhere else you'd rather take me, that's fine," she says as you both walk out of the boutique, "but I've always wanted to try the Tasty Treat. My sister raves about it quite often..."
The shopkeeper's bell jingles behind you as your boutique door shuts for the last time that night.
(Spoiler; you have a fetish now. It's about spanking and occasionally pulling a tail. Or having one pulled. Personally, I think it's great.) - Maud Pie
Jack of Hearts, Queen of Diamonds
Part 1: Acceptence by Association
The door to your boutique shuts with the jingle of the shopkeeper's bell; another satisfied customer. You stretch your hooves out and sigh, relishing the small moments of peace and quiet between clients. Your eyes drift around your pride and joy, your own clothes shop; The Smart Ass .
Now, with a shop name like that, many would-be patrons would have assumed it to be uncouth. The truth was, the name isn't as distasteful as one would imagine. It actually stems from you; a donkey, and the fact that you are incredibly good at making ponies dress smart. In fact, there's been more than one occasion where a snooty Canterlot pony has entered your establishment with the intention of complaining about your shop's name, before realising you're a donkey and changing their tune the moment they see you, for fear of offending you. Those are the funniest customers to deal with.
You check the fancy clock hanging between two dashingly well-dressed mannequins; there's usually a lull in customers at this time. You've gotten into the habit of disappearing into the kitchen at the back of the shop for a nice cup of tea. As the owner of the establishment, you have free reign on when your tea-break is. Full steam ahead.
Within minutes, you're in the kitchen, dropping a tea-bag into a clean mug, adding just a dash of sugar, and pouring in the boiling water, savouring the sound it makes as it fills said mug. You check yourself in the nearby mirror as the tea brews, fixing any part of your mane that's out of place. You consider yourself a rather handsome jack; "jack" being the donkey equivalent of "stallion", by the way. Your natural charisma, devilish charms, and your overall status as a high-class clothing-shop owner is well-known throughout Canterlot.
This, combined with your habit of throwing a cider-bash at your apartment complex once a month, has earned you the reputation of being quite the, well, playful bachelor . Speaking of which, your mind drifts towards the cider-bash scheduled for tomorrow night. Most Canterlot ponies would never dream of the loose parties you set up, preferring to just be boring and natter in places like the Grand Galloping Gala. Oh well; you make dresses, tuxedos, and whatnot for their boring parties, they pay you in buckets of bits, and you fund parties and host wild cider-bashes that are actually fun.
The distant jingle of the shopkeeper's bell disrupts your train of thought. A new customer, perhaps, or a regular? You figure it's best to leave that tea brewing for a while longer; it'll be ready by the time you're done with whoever's just arrived. Brushing aside the bead curtain that separates the staff area from the shop proper, you greet the customer with a well-practised smile.
"Greetings, and welcome to The Smart Ass . How can I help y..." Your voice trails off.
Two beautiful, light turquoise eyes, each adorned with curved eyelashes, stand out against the subtle violet of the earth pony's eyeshadow. Her mane matches her makeup, draping over her stony-grey coat. She's wearing a simple blue gown that fits her body perfectly, and is colourful enough to stand out against her fur, but desaturated just enough so it doesn't clash. A pair of simple, grey saddlebags are latched to the gown's belt. Her expression as she turns to greet you is enigmatic, yet calculating. It's like she can see every detail of every moment, but finds it all inconsequential compared to what she's truly looking at: you.
You've seen many, many attractive customers in your time, but this one... she doesn't compare.
"Hello," she says, her voice just as unreadable as the rest of her. "I was wondering if you could help me with something."
Your shopkeeper's instinct brings you back to the waking world. "O-Of course! I can help you with whatever you need. With clothing, of course!" you add hastily, followed by a short chuckle.
"Great," she says, with the same tone as before. "I need some nice clothes. Not like a dress. More like the kind of clothes for an important meeting. Smart clothes, with at least one pocket."
"In that case, we have what you need. Right this way," You gesture toward the rear-left of the boutique, right where your business attire sits on display. She follows you up to the main rack, where there's a variety of mare's blazers of various hues. "Might I recommend a violet blazer with cornsilk-yellow trimmings to compliment your mane? Or perhaps a blue one similar to your fetching gown?"
The mare blinks. No other expression; just a blink. "You like my gown?"
You nod, giving the well-practised smile only a donkey who owns a successful clothes shop could give. "It's a breath of fresh air from all the pompous stuff the Canterlot locals usually demand. Dare I ask, are you from Ponyville?"
The mare's hoof plucks the blue blazer from the rack. "No. I come from a rock farm somewhere between Appleloosa and Somnambula. It's a remote place with no boutiques, so waiting until I was in Canterlot to buy smart clothes was the better option." She glances over to the small dressing room near the shop's counter. "Can I try this on?"
"By all means," you reply. "I'll be by the counter if you need anything."
She trots over to the small area, closing the solid wooden door behind her. It's more of a cubicle than a full dressing room, but it has everything a shopper needs, complete with a chair, hangers, and a mirror. The door itself is a simple latch affair, with the requisite couple of inches between the floor and the door itself, as most changing rooms are.
The next minute consists of an awkward wordlessness as you stand dumbly behind the counter. You hear the muted rustle of fabric as the mare slides her gown off and starts fumbling with the blazer. After a few moments, the latch on the door flicks open, and her face sticks out from behind it.
"Um, I'm having trouble with the buttons on this. Could you help me with it?"
Most of the locals are either unicorns with magic, or other ponies that have lived in Canterlot long enough to work out faffing with suit buttons. Of course humble mares like herself would have issues with them. Her original gown doesn't have buttons.
Dutifully, you trot over to help. She pushes the door open just enough to allow you in, then closes it, perplexingly enough, behind you. The small changing area is much less roomy with yourself and her crammed into it. You push any and all thoughts that would corrupt the simple matter of business out of your mind - save that sort of thing for the cider-bash later - and help her with the buttons on the blazer. She remains still and eerily silent as your adept hooves button the blazer up one at a time. Wanting to cut through the tension, you decide to make small talk with her.
"Appleloosa and Somnambula are pretty far away," you muse openly. "What brings you to Canterlot?" Some customers relish small talk. Some loathe it. However, you have absolutely no idea how she feels about it. She's not expressing a preference one way or the other. In fact, she's not expressing anything like that. How strange.
"I need to speak to some high-ranking Canterlot officials for permission to explore some caves," she replies. She doesn't seem to mind the talking, after all. "Normally I wouldn't need permission, but since these are the same caves hidden under Canterlot Palace, they're sort of a sensitive topic."
"I think I remember those caves," you say. You're halfway done with the buttons already. "The same caves Princess Mi Amore Cadenza was held when that Changeling Queen tried to sabotage her wedding a while back."
"Yes. So I want to dress to impress, as they say. I really want to see what kind of rocks are in there."
"Ah," you look up from the buttons with a friendly smile. "So you're a geologist then?"
"You know the word for it," she says, rather than exclaims. "I like you. Most ponies just say rock scientist . Sometimes even rock doctor ."
"Well, geologist or rock doctor , you'll be sure to dazzle them with this," you chuckle, finishing the last button. You take a step back to admire your handiwork, but bump clumsily into the dressing cubicle's closed door. Pretending that didn't just happen, you gesture towards the dressing room's mirror. "What do you think?"
She silently leers into the mirror for the longest time, her face as difficult to read as ever. Finally, she speaks, "It passes the looking-nice test. Now for the Boulder test."
"Pardon?"
She pays no heed to your minor confusion. Instead, she fishes what looks like a pebble from her discarded gown's pocket, and slips it neatly into the inside pocket of the blazer, where it snugly remains. "It's perfect."
From there, she swiftly folds her blue gown up and stuffs it into one side of her saddlebags. She fetches a purse full of bits from the other side. "The meeting isn't until sunset, but if I wear it now, I don't have to deal with the buttons again later. How much?"
After you ring up the price at the counter, she pushes the bits across the table and hoists her saddlebag over her waist. "Thank you."
You watch as this beautiful, mysterious specimen of a mare turns to leave your boutique - and your life - forever. Despite every logical part of you telling you not to do anything rash, the emotional side of you wins out, as usual.
"Wait."
She pauses just as she's halfway towards the shop door. She turns back to you silently without a word. Perhaps you should have thought of something to say first.
"I'm, um, hosting a cider-bash tomorrow night!" A silence follows, too long for your liking. "If you're still in Canterlot, you're welcome to... s-stop by." You stumble on those last few words.
The mare blankly considers your words. "I don't usually go for parties. I mostly prefer studying rocks in a quiet place."
"Oh," you say dumbly. "That's okay, it was worth just asking. You never know until you try, after all!" Your friendly chuckle might have come across as dry.
To your surprise, she trots back to the counter. "Could I have the address?" she asks. You smile, hoofing over a small paper card from under your counter; you always keep them just for this reason. She looks it over, then slips it into the saddlebag with her bits.
"If I don't show up," she says, "just assume I didn't get approval to explore the caves from the meeting. But if it's a success, I guess that's a good enough reason to celebrate." You aren't sure whether she stressed the word if or not. "Should I wear something for the party too?"
"Wear whatever's comfortable," you say, beaming. "Also, I think you mean when it's a success. I'm sure you'll do great!"
As difficult as her face is to read, there's not many ways to misinterpret an honest blush. "Thank you." She trots back to the door with a spring in her step, although it's almost unnoticeable. You wordlessly appreciate how the blazer, like most pony attire, didn't come with pants as she walks away from you.
"Oh, one more thing." she calls back as she's halfway out the door. "My name."
*******
Maud Pie.
A sweet name, but with clear humble roots. You're still rolling the name off your tongue as you're closing the shop for the night. Your mind’s held captive by the memories of her turquoise eyes, her violet eyeshadow and mane, the blue, form-fitting gown she wore as she entered. The blue blazer, confidently showing off her, uh, cutie mark as she left. Her calm voice, like the waves of an ocean or the purring of a cat; never changing in tone, yet so inexplicably comforting.
It's only when you've locked up the boutique, and you're halfway home, do you remember the tea you accidentally left to go cold in the back kitchen.
Canterlot's sunset glows a warm orange above you as you reach your apartment complex. The walk itself felt like no time at all, since your mind was still preoccupied on the spectacular mare from earlier.
Just as you open the outer doors with a squeak, you hear the telltale sounds of limbs thumping clumsily down the stairwell. A few soft thuds, followed by the occasional clack of light metal. You'd recognise that sound anywhere.
"Oh, hey, nice to see you again, friend," you chirp once your neighbour limps into view. "Off to that library again?"
Now, your neighbour is not like most of the citizens of Canterlot. In fact, you've seen locals mistake him for a B-movie monster on more than one occasion. Some of the snooty unicorn upper-crust have never heard of, nor seen, a Diamond Dog before. Much less one with a prosthetic leg.
The canine smiles, possibly unaware of just how many of his serrated teeth are on show. "No such thing as too much reading," he hums, "and it's that time when there's nobody on the streets but the, er, library is still open."
"Well, have fun then," you chime. As much as you'd like to stay and chat - you've always known this guy to be a bit of a lone wolf - you are tired, and you need to get back to your room, rest up and plan for the... party. "Say, perhaps you'd be interested in coming around to my apartment tomorrow night?" you muse. The worst case scenario is that he says no, after all. "We're having a cider-bash, and I'm sure there'll be plenty of locals who'd be willing to give you a chance. Heck, you might even catch the eye of some fine mares!"
The Diamond Dog just blinks dumbly.
"Oh. Right." You cough. "I wasn't sure if you liked Equestrians or not, I was just throwing it out there..."
"Hey, don't worry about it," the brutish canine reassures, "I appreciate the invite. While I don't exactly chase mares, I can see the beauty in one. Thing is, I never make a move to hit on them because they never sniff my butt first."
Wait, what!?
"That was a joke," he clarifies bluntly. "We don't sniff butts."
"Oh thank goodness, that was getting awkward..."
Within two minutes, you're in your own apartment, your own little world. Your neighbour has long since left for the library, or wherever he goes. That's none of your business. You're happy to just throw yourself on your faithful sofa for a few minutes, blessing the softness of the cushions on your rear.
The sky through your window glows the last of its orange burn. If you remember right, Maud should be starting her meeting with those other high-brow Canterlot types by now. You really hope it works out well for her. Alas, that's out of your control. It's better to just rest up and prepare for the party.
*******
Maud Pie takes a deep breath to calm herself and turns over her paper.
She's sitting in what is probably the most comfortable waiting room in Equestria. Lavishly padded chairs, ornate tables, and pastel-coloured wallpaper designed to bring calming vibes to those waiting within Canterlot Palace. Sadly, wallpaper and nice seats can only do so much for the nerves.
Maud finishes reading her paper - notes pertaining to everything she intends to bring up at her meeting - so she flips the paper around again, and starts from the beginning. She must memorize everything. It's what only the best geologists would do, as only the best geologists would be allowed to explore the caves under Canterlot.
She could not tell how many times she read and re-read her notes before the fancy doors creaked open. A high-class, highly-strung, and highly-aged mare stood opulently in the doorway.
"Ms. Maudalina Daisy Pie?" she inquires with a shrill accent that reminds Maud of tea and biscuits, and swooning into crystalline bowls of caviar from a case of the vapours after losing one's monocle. You know, that accent.
Maud looks up from her notes. "Hello."
"Ah, a pleasure to meet you. I'm Classy Cobble, head of the Geology Society's Canterlot branch. The meeting room is just around the corner, and the other two ponies are ready and waiting! Please me, Ms. Maudalina."
This is the moment that she's been waiting for, and yet, the moment she's dreading. This meeting could lead to her biggest discovery yet, and the very idea of missing such a chance?
No. She must drive such thoughts down, and hide any obvious signs of fear that might be on show.
"Okay. You can call me Maud."
So far so good. Maud adjusts her newly-bought blazer, making sure she looks the part. She pats the blazer's inside pocket. Boulder wishes her luck.
The walk there is short, but slow. Maud's in no rush, and neither is the elderly mare. A doorway later, Maud finds herself in a broad, yet near-empty room, save for some tables, chairs, and a chalkboard for graphs and visual aids and whatnot. The meeting room.
Two stallions wave them over to one of the tables, an elderly earth pony of similar age to Classy Cobble, and a rugged pegasus garbed in Royal Guard armor. They introduce themselves as the head groundskeeper, Hayseed Greenhooves, and the recently-appointed Captain of the Royal Guard, Stratagem.
"Hello there, young'un," the rustic groundskeeper smiles. "No need to take a seat. This meeting won't take up much of your time."
Maud's stomach tightened. What was that supposed to mean? Were they just going to reject her without even giving her a chance!? "Um, sir?" she began to speak.
"He's right, Miss Pie," the disinterested pegasus pushes a few pieces of paper aside. "We've looked over your credentials, and everything checks out. You have the experience for the role, provided that you work alongside Classy Cobble here. And since you're related to an Element of Harmony - one that sang her praises about you with a two-minute musical number when we asked her - you're basically green across the board." He growled the part about Pinkie Pie's musical inclinations.
Maud froze. Of all the things they'd mention during this meeting, why her sister? Why Pinkie Pie?
"All we need is your signature and the caves will be open to you tomorrow mid-morning!" Greenhooves elates, pushing a scroll with several boxes, two of them already stamped with the stallions' hoof-prints, towards Maud and her fellow geologist.
"You spoke to Pinkie about this?" In a rare turn of events, Maud expresses herself with a raised eyebrow. "I don't think she knows as much about rocks as me."
"Yes, yes," Stratagem tapped his forehoof impatiently against the tabletop. Clearly, Maud's hesitance isn't being well-received by the busy Guard Captain. "But we wouldn't let just any rabble into the caves directly under the Royal Palace, would we?"
"Does this mean, if Pinkie Pie wasn't my sister... I wouldn't get this chance?"
As Greenhooves opens his mouth to say something that would probably be encouraging, Stratagem emits an irritated groan that cuts him right off.
"Can we hurry this along? There are a lot more important things that I need to be doing today. Yes, if you weren't related to - Pink Pie, was it? - then your request would probably be lost among all the others. Big deal. You've got a ticket to do some good in your line of work, so you can either take it or walk away. I don't care which, I'm just here because the Royal Palace is, you know, a Royal Palace . Nearly everypony who isn't a guard has to go through this to prove they're trustworthy enough not to compromise the safety or security of the princesses. And you can be trusted because your sibling's deemed important by Celestia and Luna themselves."
Maud looks down at her notes. The ones she spent all this time re-reading and revising. She didn't need to recite a single word of it. She didn't even need the pretty blazer she just bought. She didn't really need to do, well, anything . She looks over the contract with the same intensity that she would be looking for phenocrysts in a lump of igneous scoria; it's all there, on a metaphorical silver platter. Can she truly say she earned this?
Despite the fibres of her body warning her that it doesn't feel right, it's still the best opportunity she's ever had. Most geologists would get fame and recognition by stumbling upon an undiscovered kind of rock or formation. But isn't that also just a case of being in the right place at the right time? Is this really so different?
Either way, to turn down such an offer would be like driving her career into the dry, rockless dirt. Maud pushes her hoof into a nearby ink-pad, and with a twist in her stomach, imprints her hoof in the desired box.
"Is there anything else?" she asks, stepping aside to let Classy Cobble could put her hoofprint down too.
"Nothing else at all. Just show up tomorrow." Greenhooves said. "Captain Stratagem here will notify the guards to allow you access, and I'll lead you to the cave entrance."
"Thank you very much for your time and patience, gentlecolts," the elderly mare gives a humble bow.
"Yeah," Maud says, trying not to be sick. "Thanks."
As she left the meeting room, Maud Pie felt much more like somepony on the cusp of a famous discovery... but somehow, she felt much less like a geologist. Not even Boulder can provide the solace her quivering nerves long for.
