The Rough in the Diamond

by NorsePony

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Tragedy, Diamond Tiara, Dark, Sad, Silver Spoon
Length: 5923

Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara are the best of friends, or are they?

Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon seem the best of friends. But friendship is only skin-deep, and beneath that skin, Silver Spoon labors under the demands of duty and responsibility.

Published 2012-08-04 19:34:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-08-04 19:34:02 UTC

The Rough in the Diamond

I fall. My shoulder strikes the ground and my neck whiplashes, and there is sudden pain in my temple, like hot ice streaming through my skull. The world goes black for an instant, then comes back in grays and browns, color returning only slowly. I feel fear, and have the urge to run from the pain in my head. I try to get up, and find that I cannot move, that my limbs have become limp and barely respond to my will. My fear becomes terror, my heart rattling against my ribs, my breath coming in short gasps which fan the flames of pain.

A pink hoof. My eyes follow it up to Diamond Tiara’s face, to her wide eyes, the very picture of shock. She is still holding a hoof out toward me. I move my lips to speak, to say her name, but I mistime it, and a panicked gasp swallows my words.

She drops her hoof and her brows. She scowls at me as she stamps her hoof, not angry quite yet. “Spoon! You can’t even walk right anymore? How useless! Get up! Let’s go!”

I try again to get up, and again, can only twitch my limbs uselessly. I smile at her, the smile that tells her that I know it’s all my fault. I will the pain out of my voice. “Sorry, Diamond. I can’t seem to stand up.”

Her mouth turns down, signaling that she is properly angry now. I’ve made her angry by defying her, and my shame at that lapse mixes with the pain, amplifying it until my vision goes white and her words become a distant buzz.

o.0.o

“According to our agents’ reports, Diamond Tiara is prone to flashes of anger when she is defied. You will need to keep this in mind if you are to be successful in maintaining an association with her.” My father, Pince-Nez, finished the briefing.

I nodded at him. “Yes, Daddy.”

His stern lecturer’s expression melted into a smile. “Good girl, Silver. Now, tell me what you’ve learned about the Riches’ daughter.”

“Her name is Diamond Tiara. She is one month younger than me. She is the daughter of Filthy Rich, and presumptive heir to the Barnyard Bargains fortune. She is emotionally unstable and reportedly driven exclusively by the desire for personal gain. She values money for its own sake and seems to judge ponies based on how useful they are to her.”

“Good, very good. The family needs you to make this girl your friend. If you and she are close, that gives your mother and I an excuse to have social dealings with Filthy Rich without alerting my enemies in the House of Lords.”

My curiosity was piqued. I had heard bits and pieces of this story, but it seemed that now, my father was willing to fill in the gaps. “What is it your enemies will do, Daddy? And what is it you want from Mr. Rich?”

He blinked at me, seemingly caught out. After a moment, he smiled ruefully and gave in. “I had wanted to spare you the sordid details, Silver, but you deserve to know, since you will be playing a part in the drama.” He hesitated, sighed, and began pacing. “Our family fortune is scarcely deserving of the term anymore. We are an old and well-respected family, but ever since my great-grandsire lost control of our trading company, our fortune has been dwindling. My granddam, and my dam—your granddam Porcelain Rose—fought hard to maintain our position among our noble peers, and succeeded. It is thanks to their efforts that I still sit in the House of Lords, with all that entails.”

He paused to look at me, to gauge my reaction. I had pieced together much of this story from historical family documents and the occasional overheard conversation between my parents, but to hear it directly was something I had not expected. I swallowed, then smiled at him, wordlessly encouraging him to continue.

He nodded, satisfied. He resumed pacing. “Many of my peers in the House would like nothing better than to see us reduced to nothing and removed from consideration in their dealings. They have certain reasons to resent our family’s politics.

“Filthy Rich and his mercantile success offer us an opportunity to keep that from happening. He is wealthy, but has no status, and by all reports, it is status he craves. Whereas we,” he smiled, a wry twist of the mouth, “have status but no great wealth. We can leverage our status and the connections we have to permit Mr. Rich new business opportunities, and by acting as the middleman in such dealings, our family can make a tidy profit and begin rebuilding our fortune.”

I found myself staring at the photograph of Diamond Tiara as he continued. “That is where you enter the picture, my darling girl. Your friendship with Filthy Rich’s daughter will provide a cover for me to meet with Mr. Rich in social circumstances which will not raise the hackles of my antagonistic peers, and will therefore allow the two of us to arrange business quietly so that it goes unmolested until it is too late to be stopped.” My father stopped behind the photo and tapped it. “This girl is very important to our family, Silver. And so are you.”

I raised my eyes to meet his, and pride welled in my chest. I could help ensure my family’s survival. Me. It was a tremendous honor, and a weighty duty. I accepted both. I would not let my family fall. I would bond that girl to me.

o.0.o

My mind casts forward. If I will die here, before my father’s plans come to fruition, my worst fears will come true. I will squander my father’s trust in me and what remains of the family fortune will devolve onto my cousin, who will squander the remnants and ensure the demise of our family as a meaningful name in Equestria. Diamond’s family will be unable to expand beyond their limited influence without the help of my father, and it will be my fault.

o.0.o

The pain shifts, arcing through my skull and down my spine, and my thoughts become light, like hot-air balloons slipped free of their moorings. I find I have trouble forcing concentration on anything, and I take this as a bad sign. I see that Diamond is still raging at me, so I must not have been out for long.

“I told you to get up!” she screams at me. Her face twists in anger and she steps forward, raising a hoof to slap me. I wince away from the blow, dragging my head along the ground, able at least to move that much. Diamond freezes in place, her eyes widening. I roll my eyes to see what has stopped her, and see a dollop of bloody earth next to my eye, too close to focus on.

I look back at Diamond, and see that she has pressed her hoof to her mouth, a gesture of fear I have only seen a few times in my association with her. I want to apologize for scaring her, for making her feel fear on my account, but my tongue is thick and uncooperative in my mouth.

She sees my mouth working, and her hoof comes away from her own mouth. “Why are you doing this to me?” she demands. “Are you trying to get me in trouble? You better do what I say and stand up right now, if you want to keep being my friend!”

I don’t even try to rise, knowing it to be futile. I lay still and regard her, and her anger warms me, reminds me.

o.0.o

It was Diamond Tiara’s birthday party, and it was the sort of affair the who’s-who were invited to as Mr. Rich tried his best to gain favor with ponies above his station. My parents and I were met at the door of the manor by a uniformed butler—a stallion hired for the occasion, no doubt—and ushered into the ballroom. I noted the expensive but tasteless objects of art we passed in the hall, and recalled my mother’s despairing comment that the Riches only understood money, not beauty.

I did not let my feelings show on my face. I was on my best behavior—today was the day that I would meet Filthy Rich’s daughter for the first time, and I was not about to permit myself a slip that would cost my family this opportunity. When we entered the ballroom, my parents’ eyes scanned the guests with practiced speed. Graciously, they acknowledged the nobility who had condescended to be seen noticing our entry. “Always remember, Silver,” my father had told me long before, “you must keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” I looked at the hooded eyes and careful nods of the assembled nobleponies, and wondered which my father counted them as.

Then Filthy Rich bustled out of the crowd, striding purposefully toward us to shake my father’s hoof. “Lord Pince-Nez, so glad you could make it! And Lady Pearl Necklace, a pleasure to make your acquaintance at last.” I looked up at him, gauging the reality of the pony I’d only seen in photos. From what I had learned about his daughter, I had expected . . . I don’t know what I had expected. But not this. His geniality seemed unforced, his smiles genuine. He surprised me. Filthy Rich looked down at me and flashed his charismatic smile. “I did not know you had a daughter, Lord, Lady.”

My mother put a hoof on my withers, in the usual formal introduction pose. “Mr. Rich, this is Silver Spoon.”

He regarded me again, and tilted his head as though struck by an idea. “Silver Spoon looks to be about the same age as my daughter, Diamond Tiara. Would you like to be introduced, Miss Spoon? I’m afraid my girl doesn’t have many friends here tonight, even though this party is for her. The necessities of business, you know. One always has to invite the peers and associates one would rather not, just to be able to receive the few ponies one does want to see.” My ears pricked up at his emphasis.

My father nodded understandingly, his eyes sharp on Mr. Rich’s. “I know the feeling all too well, Mr. Rich. Silver, if you would like to play with the young lady of the house, you are free to do so.”

In the tail of my eye, I noticed small groups of dignified-looking ponies speaking closely together and staring at my father and Filthy Rich. My hackles rose. I had a duty to accomplish. I put a sweet smile on my face and aimed it at Mr. Rich. “I’d like very much to meet her, thank you.”

The group of us moved deeper into the well-dressed crowd and came upon Diamond Tiara lounging on a sofa with an expression of absolute boredom. She raised her eyes to her father as we approached, ignoring the rest of us. I tamped down my offense. I had a job to do. Filthy Rich brought me forward with him. “Sweetie, this is Silver Spoon. She’s just about your age. You’ll get along beautifully, I’m sure.”

Now Diamond Tiara deigned to notice me, sweeping her gaze over me as though evaluating my worthiness to keep breathing. She surveyed my parents with virtually the same dismissive gaze, and I turned my outrage into a bright smile and stuck a hoof out at her. “Hi! It’s nice to meet you. That’s a really great dress, it looks really pretty on you.”

Her eyes snapped back to me, and one of her eyebrows rose in a gesture of surprise for just an instant. Then her other eyebrow shot up, turning the expression into haughty disdain. “How nice of someone to notice,” she said. “It’s a bespoke original by Nouveau, after all.” She lifted a hoof to touch mine, as though it were a dead fish.

I could see plainly that the dress had no such pedigree, and in the corner of my eye, I noted Filthy Rich’s embarrassment at his daughter’s lie. But I widened my eyes in simulated awe. Family came first. “Wow, that’s amazing,” I simpered, and was rewarded by her tight, self-satisfied smile—an expression I would come to know well.

Introductions successfully accomplished, Filthy Rich turned to my parents. “I’m happy to find that our daughters give us a point of common interest, Lord Pince-Nez, Lady Pearl Necklace.”

My father replied, “I suspect they are not our only point of common interest, Mr. Rich.” He paused for a pregnant moment, just long enough for Filthy Rich’s eyes to widen slightly in understanding. Then he continued smoothly, “For instance, do you enjoy croquet?”

Mr. Rich froze for an instant, then smiled back at my father. “As a matter of fact, I do. Ask anyone, they’ll tell you I’m a croquet maven.”

“Excellent, excellent!” My father hooked his arm into my mother’s. “Let us find a quiet corner to discuss our mutual affection for the game, shall we, Mr. Rich?”

“Absolutely, Lord Pince-Nez.”

“Please, call me Pince.”

I turned my attention away from the conversation and found Diamond Tiara regarding me pointedly. Inwardly, I recoiled at the naked appraisal in her stare, but I would not let my parents down. “What would you like to do, Diamond Tiara?”

She hitched her head toward the front of the ballroom without dropping her gaze. “I want to look at my presents again. I got some expensive things this year, a lot more expensive than last year. Come and see.”

I could only feel disdain for her adoration of money for its own sake, but, I reminded myself, I had a job to do. I nodded eagerly. “I’d like that.”

o.0.o

Without me there to help her, guide her, Diamond will be lost. She will be unable to achieve her dreams, to have the money she craves more than love, more than anything. She will never have the underlings and toadies which would make her happy, which would wrest that smile from her. I will regret not seeing her smile again. Why will I have had to leave her alone?

o.0.o

There is fire in my skull, burning hotter and hotter until I think my brain should melt and drip out. I writhe and mewl in agony, wordlessly begging for an end to the pain. Through the tears in my eyes, I see Diamond shrink away from the sound, then she starts forward as though spurred. She lowers herself next to me, and hooks her arms under my head and neck, lifting and cradling me. The motion fans the flames, and I cry out. My vision blurs. I can’t breathe through the snot clogging my nose. I gasp air through my mouth between cries.

“Oh Celestia,” moans Diamond, “Oh Celestia, I’m gonna be in so much trouble.” Her arms clench tight around me, pressing me to her body, and even through the pain, it feels sweet and welcome. Finally, I am being held the way I have longed for. I welcome the pain, the way it scatters my thoughts. Through the haze in my head, I can almost make myself believe that she is holding me because she loves me.

She shifts her grip on my neck and I flee away from the new pain into the safety of memory.

o.0.o

I approached the Ponyville schoolhouse with a sense of resignation. I had bid farewell to my friends at the Academy d’Scholastique only last week, those other foals of the rich and powerful, around whom I did not have to pretend. I darted a glance at Diamond Tiara, walking next to me, and could not restrain a moue of displeasure. If it were not for her, I would not have been compelled to attend this . . . school, much less be tutored at home by private instructors to keep my academic standards up in the face of the provincial education I would receive here. But because Filthy Rich believed in the quality of public education—it was good enough for him and for his father before him, he said—she attended here. And because she attended here, I attended here. Duty. I sighed.

Diamond Tiara glanced aside at me with something approaching sympathy. “I know, right? The new school year is always such a downer.”

“Sure is, Diamond.” Fortunately, she hadn’t pieced together the real cause of my displeasure. I berated myself for my slip. I had let the mask fall away for a moment, and that was dangerous. “You must have a lot of friends here, right?”

She snorted. “Hah. None of these peasants are important enough to be my friend.” She stuck her nose in the air.

I smiled at her, a big worshipful smile. “They sure aren’t.” I had expected as much, of course. A pony like her wouldn’t lower herself to associate with ‘common ponies,’ it would hurt her baseless pride too much.

Mentally, I shook myself. She was the key to my family’s survival, and was therefore the most important pony in the world to me. She had to be. At least she was not hard on the eyes, and I had known her for long enough now to have seen her genuine smile a few times. She had her father’s smile, earnest and kind, and it frustrated me that she chose to wear this cold, haughty persona instead.

Maybe, over time, I would be able to coax her to be more herself. That would make it easier to deal with her, certainly. And her true smile really was appealing. Duty did not have to be onerous, or so I assured myself. I found myself staring at her proud chin and taut lips out of the corner of my eye, and quickly looked away, heat building in my cheeks.

I was wrenched back to the present by a loud halloo from a yellow, red-maned earth pony. I recognized her from my briefings: Apple Bloom, granddaughter of “Granny” Smith, the head of the Apple Family and the only mare in Ponyville who knows how to produce the famous Zap Apple Jam, the cornerstone of Filthy Rich’s fortune. Diamond Tiara stopped in her tracks, so I stopped as well. I glanced at her. Her face was devoid of recognition, but rich with disdain.

The yellow filly approached us at a trot, and thrust a hoof at Diamond Tiara, who recoiled from it. “Well howdy there! My name’s Apple Bloom, an’ who are you?” I was surprised that their ignorance was mutual, but it had no significance to me.

Diamond Tiara sneered, and seeing the signs of rage, I wanted to warn Apple Bloom away, to prevent a rift which could damage Diamond’s fortunes in the future, but could not do anything without incurring her wrath for myself. Diamond Tiara ignored her outstretched hoof. “Why would I want to know who you are? I’ve never heard of you, so you’re a nobody!”

Apple Bloom looked hurt, but pressed on, offering her hoof again. “Aw, I’m just tryin’ to be neighborly. We’re gonna be classmates, we should be friends too, dontcha think? So what’s your name?” She smiled, an expression of open honesty, and it struck me how similar it was to Diamond Tiara’s true smile.

I glanced at Diamond and my stomach flip-flopped in my belly at the sight of her eyes softening, searching Apple Bloom’s face. She had never once looked at me that way. She looked down at Apple Bloom’s extended hoof, and my heart balanced on a knife edge of tension for an endless second. I gave a small snort, as though Apple Bloom had done something shameful and I was embarrassed by it. Diamond’s ear swiveled toward me, as I had hoped, and her face hardened, formed back into the mask I knew so well. She slapped the hoof away. “Friends? With you? Don’t make me laugh! I’m not friends with nobodies.”

Apple Bloom recoiled, holding her hoof to her chest as though nursing a wound, and her wide eyes watched as Diamond Tiara stalked away. I hurried after Diamond, relieved that my position as her sole confidante and friend was unchallenged. I felt bad for Apple Bloom, but . . . duty.

Diamond walked up to the nearest foal, a dark-coated colt, and leaned in to stage-whisper to him, pointing at Apple Bloom. “That girl there just told me she’s so poor, she can only bathe once a month.” The colt’s eyes lit up at being privy to such juicy gossip, and he stared at Apple Bloom with a grin.

Apple Bloom had overheard, as Diamond intended her to, and she sat down in the middle of the road, staring at the dirt, ears folded back in what might have been sadness or anger. Diamond shot a glance at the disconsolate filly, and in her eyes, I saw glee and outraged pride, but her gaze lingered a moment too long and I saw longing enter her expression. My heart iced over. That Apple Bloom would not stand between me and Diamond Tiara. I would not let her interfere with what I needed to do for my family. I swore it.

o.0.o

The pain expands to fill my head and I know my oath will come to nothing, that my Diamond and that filthy Apple will join in love, in the way I will never have, despite my devotion, despite my attention. They will kiss, and that Apple will taste the fruit I crave, and they will rejoice that I will have been dead. Apple Bloom will make her happy in a way I will never have been able to, and my Diamond will smile her Apple Bloom-like smile at my corpse, that smile which will always make me melt no matter how I try to resist, and it will be agony rolling through me—

o.0.o

—the pain has become nauseous waves which begin in my hooves and ripple through my body to the throbbing hole in my head, as though the pain is trying to escape my body. The memory of the nightmare is clear and bright in my mind, the remembered pain filling the empty spots the waves are leaving behind. Anger grows in me, a mindless rage at that Apple, that filthy Apple. The anger is fueled by pain, driving it higher and higher until I quiver and shake with it.

My Diamond holds me tighter, scared by my sudden tremors, and my pleasure at the contact only serves to make me angrier. Damn Apple Bloom for taking my chance at happiness away from me! I only want, I only ever wanted, to be the one pony my Diamond could look at with anything less than contempt. But that happiness has been stolen from me.

Hot cracks radiate across my skull, searing, tearing, and the pain speaks to me, it supports me. This is all her fault, the pain says. Yes, I think, and a black pit opens in my brain and swallows me.

o.0.o

I watched Apple Bloom trot away from the school with her two new friends, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, laughing together. Inwardly, I seethed. It had been so easy to isolate Apple Bloom by directing Diamond against her, and through her, the rest of the class. That filthy Apple had been alone and unloved, and so my beautiful Diamond’s occasional glances had been disdain at her worthlessness, without a trace of the pity or curiosity that stabbed at my heart.

Now she had found friends, and so she was not worthless. My Diamond’s eyes followed her, and I felt fear. I shoved it down and acted. Diamond was mine, no one else’s. “I can’t believe they would laugh at you!” My tone is carefully engineered, the very image of innocent surprise.

Diamond’s gorgeous eyes turned to me, and I thrilled at having her attention. “They were, weren’t they?” Her brows lowered dangerously as she convinced herself of their crime. “How dare they laugh at me?”

“I bet they’re still laughing about how they humiliated you at your cute-ceañera,” I said, glancing at her shapely and newly-adorned flank with a surge of warmth in my chest. “You should teach them a lesson.”

She nodded, her eyes narrowing. She looked at them again, almost out of sight down the road, and this time her eyes held only anger. I loved the sight of it.

One month passed, then two. I kept my lovely Diamond straining at the leash against Apple Bloom, and her sweet anger only grew at each perceived slight, and her cruelty with it. My father would be so proud at my attention to duty, at my ability to stay close by my Diamond’s side.

I whispered to her that they were peasants, worthless, undeserving of anything but contempt from her, and she was only too willing to be cruel. She grew irritable and short with me as I pushed her further, and I reveled in her biting words, for they meant that she was thinking of me instead of that other one. Her blue eyes would flash at me, and as I cowered to show her that I was hers to control, I was happy.

Today, only hours ago, we had arranged for them to fall into a pile of pig manure, and their retching and vomiting had been a beautiful sight. But it could have been better, if only my Diamond had been willing to see it.

After the fact, walking together on the fringes of Ponyville, I suggested to her that we should have held them in the manure pile so they could not get out. My thoughts were filled with images of Apple Bloom struggling as manure filled her mouth as she gasped for breath. It was a deeply satisfying thought. But my Diamond looked at me with puzzlement. She had never looked at me that way before, and my blood ran cold.

“That might kill them, Spoon. They’re just stupid peasants, I’m not going to get in that much trouble over them.”

Caught, I tried to redirect her attention. “Oh, come on, Diamond, don’t you remember what they were saying about you? It’d be worth it to punish them properly for it. They deserve it.”

She shook her head at me and resumed walking. “I can’t believe you’re saying that. That’s too far, even for you.”

I stared after her for a moment, struck dumb. Then I leapt into motion after her. “For me? You’re the one who wanted to get back at them for all the stuff they’ve done to you!” Inside, I was panicking. I had to sort this out, quickly, before I lost her, before I let my family down.

She barely glanced at me. “Getting back at them, sure. Look, just . . . go home. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

My head was filled with screaming. I pushed her on the shoulder. “Ha! You’re such a kidder, Diamond!”

She spun to me, cold rage in her eyes. “Don’t you touch me!” she screamed, and shoved me, hard. I was frozen in shock, and my hooves tangled up. I fell. My shoulder struck the ground and my neck whiplashed, and there was sudden pain in my temple, like hot ice streaming through my skull.

o.0.o

I will soon be dead. Nothing is as it seems. I see what would have been. I would have been by my lovely Diamond’s side forever, supporting her ambition and her goals, ensuring that she had all the wealth she ever would have wanted. Without Apple Bloom, we would have been happy together. I would have been useful to her, day in and day out, and she would smile at me because I was useful, and I would have been happy, because being a useful tool is almost the same as being loved.

o.0.o

A pulse of pain brings me back to the now, and I feel my Diamond’s arms around me, and the echo of the future is too much to bear. I sob in agony, both spiritual and physical, and try to struggle away from the embrace I crave so dearly.

I feel something give way inside my head, and there is a splash on the ground below me. My beautiful Diamond gasps and recoils from me. I slip out of her arms and land heavily on the dirt, which I see is stained a brilliant crimson. I stare at my blood spread on the ground, and my pain vanishes, becoming distant and muted, as though it is somepony else’s body which hurts. I feel the distance to my body increasing, and understand that my death will be soon, here in the dirt of the road, with my beloved watching in fear.

It is too much to bear, and I struggle against myself, operating lips and tongue as though they are a puppet’s. “Diamond . . . I’m sorry . . . for putting you through this.” I go limp, exhausted by that colossal effort. Only my eyes still respond, staying fixed to her face.

At my words, the fear on her face becomes anger. “You’re worthless! I’m going to be in so much trouble for this, and it’s all your fault for being stupid enough to die! You’re going to ruin my life!” She thrusts her head toward me, practically spitting in rage. At the motion, her tiara flies off her head down toward me. I watch it as it tumbles through the air like molasses, waiting for the impact.

The impact comes at last, the tiara hitting my nose with a distant crunch, knocking my glasses to the ground. My nose is surely broken, but that new pain is as muted as the rest, and I cannot bring myself to care.

I manipulate my mouth once again, staring at my Diamond’s beautiful, wrathful face. “You aren’t worthless.” My eyes fall to the tiara, laying in my blood, and I smile.

o.0.o

Diamond was visiting my home. We were in the vault with my mother as she instructed me in the fine points of appraisal. Diamond had been almost completely uninterested throughout the lesson, choosing instead to mill about the vault and touch expensive objects, as though marking her territory. Her habit amused me, and my mother, of necessity, was tolerant toward her.

My mother held up a delicate gold candlestick for me to test my eye on. I took it gently, regarded it critically, and realized that its every detail was as plain to me as the stars in the sky. My eyes widened in surprise, and words spilled from me. “It was crafted by a master, probably of Griffin make based on the subtle feather motif. It is damaged in three places: a nick on the base, a dent inside the cup, and a vertical scratch on the barrel, which is mostly obscured by the scrollwork.” I continued on at length, my mother growing increasingly excited by my display of virtuosity.

In a display of boredom, Diamond slammed shut an antique shipping chest. The noise startled me, and I reflexively looked in that direction, and very nearly dropped the candlestick.

Diamond Tiara was . . . alight, is the only word that came to mind. To my eyes, she fairly glowed. I appraised her, measured her, and knew her true worth in a heartbeat. And she was valuable. Wealth and importance swirled within her, and even greater potential surrounded her like a cloak of gold. Her ambition would serve her and her family well, if carefully nurtured.

Months ago, I had been told of this filly’s worth and importance to my family. Seeing the plain truth of that struck me powerfully. It validated everything I had done, the mask I had donned to appeal to her, because in the end, it would all be worth it to my family. I was overcome by emotion in that moment, and the image of Diamond Tiara, shining as brightly as the hope of my family, burned itself into my mind.

She was beautiful, and I loved her, from then on. It was almost an afterthought, an anticlimax, when I felt the prickling on my flanks and heard my mother’s intake of breath. My cutie mark had arrived, but that was nothing. What mattered was that I had found my purpose.

I smiled at my Diamond, my luminescent Diamond. I turned my head to look around the vault, and saw one object glowing more brightly than the rest. Dazed, I moved to it, picked it up. It was a tiara, masterfully made, beautiful, glowing like a bright lantern, just like my Diamond was.

I went to her then, and I placed the tiara on her head, and I bowed, because she deserved obeisance. “I will help you achieve your goals,” I said. I looked up at her, and watched her radiant face. She took in my worship and my love, and raised a hoof to touch the tiara on her head.

Her face split in a wide, ecstatic grin, and her eyes were hungry for more adoration, for more ponies bowing to her. She gestured me to bow lower, and I dropped flat on the cold marble floor, unable to tear my eyes away from her. She grinned even wider, and I saw her cutie mark appear, in the shape of the tiara I had given to her as a symbol of my fealty. Finding her desire changed her, and to my appraising eyes, she glowed like the sun, blinding me with the potential swirling around her.

Overcome by the brilliance and by my uncontainable love for her, I fainted.

o.0.o

I will dream of a future in which my desires come true, in which my lovely Diamond will hold me to her as her own, and the warmth of her coat will fill my heart. She will call me hers and know that I am worthless next to her, and I will worship her and love her from the ground she walks on. It will be joy, it will be bliss. Oh Celestia, make it so, I will sacrifice anything for that future. But I know it will never have happened, for I will soon be dead and beyond serving her.

o.0.o

I open my eyes, my eyelids stiff with dried tears, and see the tiara still on the ground next to me. I am cold, through and through, except the side of my head which lays on the red earth. The world is dim and gray, though the sun stands high in the sky.

I roll my eyes, and see my beloved Diamond’s tail waving in the wind she is leaving behind her as she runs away, as she flees from my chilling not-quite-corpse. I order my lips to smile, but they only twitch.

I cannot hate her for her flight. It is what she would do, and therefore what she has done. She has only ever cared for herself. She will not mourn me. It is not in her nature to mourn for a tool which lays broken and useless in a pool of blood. I only regret that I cannot continue to be at her side as her most useful tool.

“I love you anyway,” I whisper.

o.0.o The End o.0.o