Talk of the Town

by Vis-a-Viscera

Rating: everyone
Tags: Cheerilee, Big Macintosh, Sad, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance
Length: 2085

Three P.M. at Cafe Hay. Two lonely pones. One Hearts and Hooves-bred heart-to-heart. No more running from the past.

Hearts and Hooves Day is named as such for far more than just the breaking of banks for chocolate and rings. Hope that Big Mac and Cheerilee never find out.

Pic credit goes to nmnkgskgs.

This story was made for Quills and Sofa's Cheerilee character contest! Thanks to LostinFandom, Shaslan, RedParade, Starshield, Silvermint, TheHatMan, Applezombi, Pinoy, and Atom Smash for reviewing/editing!

Published 2021-05-26 19:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2021-05-26 19:10:00 UTC

Check, Please

“I’ll take a steamed lobster, spritzed with lemon--and a baked potato with butter and garlic. The same for you, too?”

“... eeyup.”

With a curt nod from Savoir Faire, the amber-bathed cubby of Cafe Hay was again clear save for its customers. Staring across from the table from each other were two ponies, eyes sparkling with the life of the cafe around them, but whose hooves fidgeted with worry and awkwardness. It was hardly an alien feeling to both ponies though; their last encounter together had had a far more chaotic, house-dragging conclusion.

Somepony had to make the first move.

“It was so nice of your sister and her friends to pay for all of this,” stated the mare, the ghost of a smile finally showing through.

“Eeyep.” Mac still wasn’t used to talking this much. But he was willing to try, for Cheerilee’s sake. “Still—us gorgin’ on my kid sis’s dime? Ah shoulda volunteered to pay.”

Drawing one of the tulips closer to herself, Cheerilee pursed her lips. “No worries. It was a surprise to me, too. Are you sure she didn’t let it slip to you?”

Mac shrugged. “A'parently, Bloom’s good at keepin’ secrets.”

“She’s probably not the only one.”

Mac stiffened in his seat. “Ah’d hope not.”

Cheerilee was all too quick to recognise the apprehension twisting her partner’s face. She’d often seen it in Scootaloo’s talk about her chances to join the Wonderbolts. Or Sweetie Belle’s when talking of the sense of belonging between siblings. Or everyfilly else when talking about Diamond Tiara.

“N-no, I’m not saying your sister’s a good liar!” she hurriedly added. “ Only that… Well, secrets can often be kept for good reasons. Like a surprise party you want to keep a surprise! Or like a treasure in some faraway tomb!” Cheerilee’s grinned. “Or... like an apology dinner you’ve put together for two special ponies.”

And it was there that Mac’s jaw dropped.

“Something wrong?” Cheerilee asked, her heart tightening. Somehow, she felt she knew what it was.

And Mac seemed to confirm her fears.

“But then, if us bein’ here’s what y’wanted, why di—”

Then those green eyes of Macs flicked behind Cheerilee. Apparently, their meal was ready—and had been for a while, if Savoir Faire’s quirked eyebrow was any clue. Thankfully, the curiosity in his eyes stayed there, ever the professional as he slid in the tray and set two covered dishes before both ponies.

Mac had only one thing to say in the face of the lovely dishes before them.

“Nevermind. This is nice.”

Cheerilee nodded, a seafood cracker between her teeth by its bridle bit. “Ay know this isn’t what ay go for either… but it smellsh delightful!” she got out around the utensil.

Mac went for the starch first, his maw soon stained with white specks as he got through his baked potato. For the next five minutes, only his satisfied sighs and the cracking of seafood shells rang out between them, a symphony of culinary captivation.

And slowly, but surely, their hooves drifted towards each other. Their eyes were more avoiding, darting everywhere but each other. That would take a while to really do; right now, there was only the great food and this tender moment to break the monotony of their lives.

Which was why Mac’s next words, right after a quick dusting of his lips with a handkerchief, threw Cheerilee for a loop.

“Princess, would it be so bad to just stay here like this?”

A cherry-red claw went flying as Cheerilee spluttered and choked. Anypony else, and that calling of ‘princess’ would have garnered coquettish giggles at best or disapproving stares at worst from her. But as her eyes darted around, Mac saw only one emotion welling in those jade orbs, the one he’d feared the most:

Regret.

“W-what are you talking about Mac?” This time, the word Mac came from between Cheerilee’s gated teeth, like a chilly breeze. “There’s no princess here. Just a humble teacher.”

Mac’s heart sank and flared, all at once. He’d flocked up, he knew it. It’d probably be a simple fix, any other day of the week. But he also knew something else too, peering into the trembling green of Cheerilee's eyes.

Cheerilee was a terrible liar.

Both here and in the past life.

But that would probably be for a better time, thought Mac.

“I just meant that...” Mac scrambled for a good answer - one that could salvage this dinner. “I just thought it’d be a better title’n ‘schmoozy-poo.’' Then Mac shot her one of his wily grins that Applejack swore would melt hearts for thirty miles. “For mah Cheerilee.”

Cheerilee seemed to calm down at that, and even offered one of her lobster pieces afterward, around a dainty hoof and her blushing face. Mac tentatively tried one. Then the scent of the lemon hit his tongue, and he sheepishly asked for another.

And more after that.

But even as he munched happily, even as they spoke merrily of Apple Bloom’s development in her classes, Mac found himself thinking back.

Back to times and trysts, long before this town’s name was a twinkle in the Apple family’s eye.

To previous tangles with the potion of love, though buried in foggy history fables and tragedies.

To a longing mare and an impulsive stallion.

Then Cheerilee spoke.

“You know, if I had a foal, I wish it’d be just like Bloom,” she sighed wistfully. “Headstrong. Eager. Not afraid of a little rough-and-tumble.”

Mac’s ears twitched, but he didn’t speak.

“Well… I mean, there’s always the Manehattan orphanage - if you want, we can go together,” he offered, adjusted, retried phrases on his tongue, but they all seemed to slide off like ichor.

Empty. Farcical.

Especially with that slip of her own tongue a few minutes before.

His anxieties and irritation boiled over at last; Mac had to break this facade now.

“Princess, we could have had somepony like Bloom ages ago! B-but you broke it off then, and you broke it off now!” His hoof thudded onto the table, harder than he would have liked, as the memories came flooding back. “At least remember what you were before, Cheerilee! I can’t have forgotten!”

Again, Cheerilee’s eyes swept around the restaurant. Again her voice was strained, and near a whisper as she responded. But this time, it had a far more regal cadence to it, one rough with misuse. “Yes. I remember all that very well.” Her lip curled down, and Mac found himself missing the smile that had graced it before. “And I chose to bury it - as you should too, Prince!”

His breath caught. She knew, just like he did. Cheerilee remembered their past life, just he had!

In a flash, Mac was suddenly back in that moment. Like a flickering projection, the wood and thatched ceiling of Cafe Hay melted into the polished stone and silk rugs of their castle. His special sompeony’s eyes now twinkled as brightly as the regalia heaped around her neck, pearls and opals of the brightest hue. And the smoky aroma from before was stronger than ever, calling to mind stories of feasts long past.

Or empires long crumbling, he realized with a start.

Big Mac had uncovered his own truth. Plumbed his own treasure tomb.

So why did he feel emptier now than ever before?

“Just because we both chose reincarnation doesn’t mean our bond has to be lost,” he whispered. “Maybe it’s fate that put us both in this town. Fate that brought us together again!”

She frowned. "Fate?"

"Think about it," he said, urgently. "What are the odds that we'd find each other again? That we'd drink another love potion? What else could it be if not fate? That potion-"

“-Potion? Potion?!” Between Cheerilee’s gritted teeth and the plate suddenly cracking beneath her forehooves, Mac didn’t know what would break first. “That was a curse! It ruined the land I loved then! And it nearly ruined you now!”

“It opened our eyes, Cheerilee. To a lie we'd both been living! And it’s only now - only here - that I realize just what we’ve been missing.”

“This life is not a lie to me, Mac.”

It hurt that Mac concurred with what Cheerilee spat. It hurt even more that he couldn’t voice it. Too much guilt and pain tainted that once-upon-a-time of his, untouched by the lull of the liquid that had run through his royal veins millennia ago.

But despite the pain, despite the potion that had poisoned their love, he couldn't let it go. Couldn't let her go.

“The point is, what we had was real, Princess,” Mac pleaded. "I want it back. Don't you?"

The silence stretched. Finally, Cheerilee mournfully shook her head. “You want what we lost? Then that makes… one of us, my prince.”

It was almost heart-stopping, to look his only regret in the eye and plead for her forgiveness. Mac wanted nothing more than to flee - but for her, for his Princess of desert skies and sandswept palaces - he had to at least try. “But why? We can continue where we left off. This time we need no castle, no concoctions. This time, I can see that all I ever need is right in front of me.”

“I’m so sorry. All that time reminds me of… is how little I appreciated life outside of you. Outside of our duties.” The princess’ hooves shook, but they stayed firm on the table - and what felt like a million miles away from Mac’s own. “I love what I do, Mac. Being able to see such young and promising minds, in such a vibrant and homey town… it gives me hope that this generation won’t fall victim to our mistakes.”

Suddenly, the bits of potatoes and lobster tasted like ash in Mac’s mouth. For what felt like weeks, he and Cheerilee sat in abject silence. Staring at each other over their ruined dinner and the ashes of what they had once been, until Mac’s shoulders slumped in resignation.

Cheerilee's eyes were suddenly bright with tears as she broke that dreadful, endless silence. “I’d still like to thank your sister for the meal, and you for the offer. But Cheerilee is… I am here to stay.”

“Pri-”

“The Princess is dead. Dead as the kingdom her desire made into desert. And she should stay there.” Cheerilee cleared her throat decisively. “Now - was there anything else you wanted, Mac?”

Mac's mouth went dry, and the memories that the Crusader’s potion had sparked in him crowded to the forefront of his mind. Her smile, the silk of her robes and her mane billowing in the desert wind. Her laughing green eyes. He didn't want to forget again. Forget her, or what he had been.

But that was all the memories were; only memories, nothing more. Ones that felt as alien to him as they must feel to the mare across from him. She might share his recollections, but she shared no part of his feelings for her now. If he pressed her again, she would only run from him.

She would never be his again. Their love was dead.

As it probably well should be, for a royal pair that let a kingdom die so their love could live.

Perhaps this time away from that was a sign, too—of letting the past remain the past. Of embracing their new role in a new Equestria. Of seeing the frontiers that love could open… and that friendship would have to settle.

“A...eeyep.” Mac said, the simple word masking two lifetimes of loneliness and regret. ”Let’s go.”

Cheerilee nodded curtly, before leaning forward to lightly press her lips to Mac’s temple. “I’m still happy to have had this heart-to-heart with you, Mac.” And then she beckoned to bring over Savoir Faire.

Mac slumped back in his seat. His belly was full, but his heart was torn in two. Oh of course, he would head home, and life - this present one - would return to normal. He’d talk with Applejack about what today had brought her and her fellow Elements. He’d help Granny Smith up the stairs, and she would rattle off tasks she needed him to do tomorrow. He’d kiss Apple Bloom goodnight, and wonder how they would celebrate the day that spry sister of his got her cutie mark.

But today, his bed would feel just a bit emptier.

And so would his ravaged heart.