A Silver Sky: Four Little Ponies

--Chapter 25: Tarnished Silver--

I'm not sure what to expect as I stand before to the door to the grand hall.

My fear is that I'll be too late. That upon opening the door, I'll be met with the sight of Fancypants standing triumphantly on his little stage, with Miss Rarity lying dead at his hooves. On the way here, the scenario kept racing through my mind, no matter how hard I had tried to get rid of it.

Every pony in the room would turn and look right at me. Then Fancy himself would look right into my eyes, and give me a smile that said, “Now you’re mine forever.”

But what if I'm not too late? What then?

What makes me think I can possibly affect the outcome of Fancy’s plan? If I walk in there before Miss Rarity’s execution, what could I do? Kick him in the face again? That would just earn me a place next to her.

There was a time when I would have fantasized about that. I once relished the thought of dying beside Miss Rarity, or even better, dying for her.

I’m not proud of it, but I remember a day, a month or so into my time living with her, when I ran into the back room a bit too slowly, and Miss Rarity was afraid that a customer may have spotted me. It turned out that she had been distracted by a dress by the front door and hadn’t noticed me at all. But Miss Rarity saw it fit to punish me anyway.

I remember being bound by my front hooves, and lifted just slightly off the ground, so my back hooves dangled helplessly as she whipped me.

I remember the lash. She had chosen the barbed one, the one even I was afraid of.

I remember the blood. I’m pretty sure I passed out at one point, only to be slapped in the face and screamed at until I regained consciousness.

I remember Sweetie Belle sitting in the corner of the dungeon. Her sister had forced her to watch.

“Do you have any idea what would have happened if she had seen you?” Miss Rarity screamed as she whipped me. “Do you wish to see my life torn apart? Do you wish to see me put to death?”

“NO!” I screamed, genuinely horrified at the idea of Miss Rarity dying. Then, without thinking, I made a proclamation.

“I’d ask them to kill me instead.”

This caused my mistress to stop. It wasn’t the first time I had offered to lay down my life for her. But this time, I said it with such calm resolution that miss Rarity seemed almost moved by the sentiment.

“You realize that it wouldn’t matter, don’t you?” she said. “It’s not as though death sentences are transferable. If anything, they’d probably see you little attempt at self-sacrifice as further evidence of my wrongdoing.”

"Imagine what they would say!" She said. She brought her hoof to her forehead, and made a dramatic swooning pose while speaking in a mocking voice: “’Oh dear, look at how horribly damaged this little filly’s mind is! To think that she would offer to die for someone who abused her! Truly, Rarity is the most vile of villains, the most malevolent of malefactors!’”

I closed my eyes and looked away from her then, trying to hide the shame written on my face. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I just wanted to help…”

I spoke as if Rarity’s imagined scenario had already come true.

To my surprise, the next thing I felt wasn’t the sting of my mistress’s whip, but the heavenly sensation of her beautiful, exquisitely polished hoof gently tussling my mane.

“Well, if they did draw such a conclusion,” Rarity said. “It would be because they don’t know you the way I do. They simply wouldn’t understand that you were already a broken little waste of a foal when I met you.”

She unceremoniously reached up and loosened my restraints, sending my falling to the ground. My face landed in a tiny puddle of my own blood.

“I suppose I can appreciate the gesture, however asinine it was,” Rarity said as she turned and left the room. “Go to your basement, Silver Spoon. You will not be eating tonight.”

I managed to walk to my room, still in pain, still bleeding.

I was happy.

She had praised me. As always, her kind words were obscured by insults and cruelty, but to me even the faintest praise from Miss Rarity was a precious gift.

That night, I lay in bed and fantasized about giving my life for Miss Rarity.

There would be an executioner. He would lift his axe. I would run up at the last second, and beg him to kill me instead. In my fantasy, Miss Rarity said nothing. She neither protested my plan nor endorsed it. She showed no emotion toward the prospect of my death at all.

Finally, the executioner would agree. I would lay my head down on the block. The axe would fall.

In my fantasy, Miss Rarity’s stoic expression would be the last thing I saw.

And then, after the deed was done, I imagined her face betraying the tiniest hint of emotion, and nothing more. No tears would be shed for me. No words of thanks would be spoken.

My thanks would come from the knowledge that Miss Rarity would live on, and that the worthless little foal she had taken in had finally done something of value.

I returned to that fantasy more than once over the months I lived with Miss Rarity. I found that it helped me fall asleep.

I look back on that time now, and it makes me sick. How could I have hated myself so much? How could I have fallen so far?
I’d like to think that I’m better now. That all the things I’ve experienced in these last few months have helped me move away from her control.

Yet here I am, at the door to the grand hall. About to risk my life to save Miss Rarity.

There’s still time. All I have to do is walk away. I just need to think of the pony on the other side of that door. The last time I looked at her, she had just kicked me in the stomach and thrown me out into the street. She called me living garbage.

So why do I want to see her so badly?

I raise my hoof to open the door.

*******

I have the weirdest feeling that I’ve been down this corridor before.

Yeah, I’m sure of it! That painting on the wall of the pony in the old timey clothes...I’ve passed it at least three or four times! Or maybe that was some other painting of a pony in old timey clothes? Like half the paintings here look like that.

Ugh, I hate this stupid mansion! The decor is so old and ugly, and the place is so big! I thought my house was huge. Well, I mean, it IS huge. Daddy saw to it that the Rich family had the biggest mansion in Ponyville. But I bet you could fit the whole place in Fancy’s mansion three times over! Why does he need all this space, anyway? What a showoff!

I hate to admit it, but I’m lost. I think I might be going around in circles, but who can even tell with all these stupid paintings that all look the same, not to mention the dumb statues and...

Wait a minute.

I recognize the statue at the end of this hallway. It’s the one of what’s-her-name…Sergeant Typhoon? Admiral Cyclone? Who even knows. I kind of remember hearing about her in school, but I’m pretty sure Silver Spoon and I were passing notes that day and I missed the finer points of the lesson.

Silver Spoon….

She always used to do the same thing when she passed me notes. She’d put a little heart at the end, along with “SS.” Every time. Like I didn’t know who it was from, right?

She was so silly. Always following me around. Always trying so hard to please me, to make sure I was happy. Like the time I forgot my lunch, and she snuck out of class to run back to my house and get it for me. It was raining so hard that day, and when she came back, she was covered in mud. Her mane was ruined. And she totally failed in her attempt to sneak back into her seat without Miss Cheerilee noticing.

But she’d brought back my lunch, and there wasn’t a drop of mud on it. When she gave it to me, she was beaming. I’d never seen her happier before. Even though she looked like a mess, even though Miss Cheerilee was furious and gave her detention for a week. She didn’t care. Actually, looking back, I wonder if maybe that had made her even happier. She kept talking about how hard it had been, how she’d slipped and fallen in a puddle, how Miss Cheerilee made her clap the erasers and sweep the floors after school.

At first I thought she was looking for sympathy, but she seemed too happy for that. As weird as it sounds, it was more like she was happy that she’d been punished for helping me. Like that small bit of suffering made it mean more to her.

I waited for her after her last day of detention, and we walked home together. I figured it was the least I could do. I’d never actually thanked her. I don’t think she expected me to either.

“Yeah, so, sorry you got detention,” I said as we walked back.

“That’s really okay!” she said. “I’m really glad I got punished instead of you."

I just didn't understand. It was so weird, how grateful she seemed, when I was the one who’d gotten her in trouble.

That was Silver Spoon, though. Always willing to help me. Always ready – eager, even – to go out of her way to do me the tiniest favor. And never, ever, asking me for anything but my company.

Such a weird little filly.

Such an amazing, kind friend.

A much better friend than I ever deserved.

When I find her, I’m going to tell her. I’m going to tell her how much she really means to me. But first, I’m going to tell her something I’ve hardly ever said to her before.

I’m going to say “Thank you.”

So yeah, anyway, I was talking about Commodore Tsunami's statue. She’s the boss of the Pegasi in the Hearth’s Warming play, I think. I never pay attention at those. But the thing is, this statue is missing her left wing. It looks like it’s fallen clean off. I remember seeing that right after I left the grand hall, and thinking how stupid it was to keep a broken statute around. There’s a plaque on it (who the hell puts plaques on their own stuff? Fancypants is an idiot!) that says it’s “the only surviving sculpture made of the general during her own lifetime.” (Does it really count as “surviving” if it’s missing a wing?)

But the point is, I know I’ve seen that statute before, right after I left the grand hall. If it’s here, then that means I’m close to where I started.

Should I go back to the hall? It's the only place in this stupid mansion that sticks out to me.

Maybe my wish came true. Maybe they did all kill each other.

Or maybe Rarity’s side won. They promised they’d leave me alone if I played along. So if I asked one of them where Silver Spoon might be, they might be willing to help me find her.

Or maybe Fancy’s side won, and if I go in there they’ll…

No, I won’t think about that. I’ll just go there and poke my head in. If it looks like things are bad, I’ll run.
It should be fine as long as I keep nice and quie-

“SWEETIE BEEEEEEEELE!”

Oh, for sun’s sake. Who’s yelling?

“SWEETIE BEEEEELE! WHERE’D YOU GO?”

The voice is close by. And it sounds like a foal’s…but it’s not Silver’s voice. I’d know it anywhere.
But then who would be calling for Sweetie Belle? Who else from Ponyville could possibly be here?

“THWEETIE BELLE!”

Wait a minute. I know that voice. No one else pronounces “Sweetie Belle” with a “th.”

“THILVER THPOOOOON!”

What?

I break into a gallop as I head in the direction of the voice. She’s not far away.

“COME ON, WHERE ARE YOU GUYS? DON’T YOU WANT TO GO HOME? THILVER THPOON? ARE YOU OKA-AUUUUUGH!”

Twist yells as I tackle her to the ground and put my hoof over her mouth. Not the first time I’ve done that.

“Shut up!” I say. “There’s some really awful ponies in this house! You don’t want them to know where you are!”

“It’s okay,” says Twist, reaching for her glasses, which are lying on the floor next to her. “If I get in trouble, I can just run back to Twilight. She’ll protect me.”

“Twilight?” I exclaim. “Wait, is anyone from Ponyville not here?”

“Oh, you know Twilight?” she says as she puts on her glasses. “Well, I guess she is famous and- OMIGOSH! DIAMOND TIARA!”

I expect Twist to jump back or try to run. That’s what she usually does when she sees me. She was always one of the easiest fillies in class to tease. She talks funny, has those huge glasses, that big nose; there’s just so much material to work with. I think she hates me, but I don’t hate her. She’s just an easy target, that’s all.

So you can imagine my surprise when Twist gives me a hug.

“IT’S SO GOOD TO SEE YOU!” she says, with way more emotion than I’ve ever heard her use to say anything. “Oh my goodness, you look great! I mean, you kind of always look great, your mane is so pretty and I love the color of your coat, I bet it takes forever to get it looking like that, I guess I’ve always been kind of jealous of your looks but that’s okay because right now I’m just glad to see you! Hi!”

I’m not sure what to do right now. I gingerly return Twist’s hug, with a little pat on the back to keep things from feeling weird.

Then I push her away as gently as I can be bothered to, which actually isn’t very gently at all. But she doesn’t seem to mind.

“Twist, are you, like, okay? You don’t usually act this way around me,” I say. “Also, where the hell have you been? I heard you disappeared.”

“You ‘heard’?” Twist says. “You mean you didn’t notice…oh no, you never went back to school, did you?”

I look away. She had to bring that up, didn’t she?

“No, I didn’t,” I say. “I mean, it’s not like it matters at this point. I’ll just have to be held back a year or something. I’m sure no one in our class will miss me.”

“That’s not true!” says Twist. “A lot of ponies missed you. Everyday we’d talk about how much we wanted you to come back…”

I let out a little laugh. “Twist,” I say. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Twist suddenly looks very distant. “Yeah,” she replies. “You’re not the first pony to tell me that today.”

“I know most of the foals didn’t like me,” I say. “It’s fine. It’s not like I gave them any reason to.”

“Yeah, I guess not,” Twist says. “I mean, we really did feel bad for you. The way you broke down after losing your friend and all. But I guess the truth is…um, I mean…”

“You all were hoping I’d never come back,” I say. It hurts to say the words, but I know they’re the truth. And I only have myself to blame. “It’s okay, Twist. That’s what I get after being so mean to all of you…”

I shake my head. This is so hard to talk about! I mean, Twist is kind of a weirdo anyway so it’s already hard to talk to her, but then again, I guess I’ve never really tried. That’s when it occurs to me that I’ve never actually had a real conversation with Twist. I’ve laughed at her. I’ve called her names. I’ve made her cry.

But I’ve never taken the time to just talk to her. I’ve never really treated her like a fellow pony.

And when I realize that, I can’t help but ask her the question that’s been bothering me all this time:

“Why are you so happy to see me?”

Twist just smiles. It’s such a calm smile, too, which is kind of weird. I’m not used to seeing her like this.

Usually, when she looks at me, there’s fear in her eyes.

But today, she looks really at peace. What the hell has she been doing all these months?

“I’m just happy to see a familiar face, that’s all,” Twist says. “I guess it’s nice to see anyone from Ponyville after all this time.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I say. “I’m just not used to you being, well…not afraid of me.”

Twist laughs a little bit. It sounds forced.

“I’m not scared of you anymore, Diamond Tiara,” she says. “I think of all those means things you did to me, and they almost seem silly now. I used to think you were the meanest, cruelest pony in the world. Boy, was I wrong.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Hell?” she says, still wearing that weird, calm smile. “Sort of, yeah.”

She looks like she's staring at something a million miles away.

Well, this is a first. I’m used to Twist being scared of me. Today, it’s the other way around.

“So, um, you were looking for Silver Spoon?” I say, hoping to change the subject. “I’m looking for her, too. I was just about to check the grand hall.”

“Oh, neat!” she says. “Fancypants showed us the grand hall when I first came here. That might be a good place to look. Can I come?”

“Sure,” I say. Even if she’s creeping me out a little, it’s nice to have someone to talk to. Being alone in this mansion is scarier than Twist could ever be. “We’ll find Silver Spoon no matter what.”

“I really hope so,” Twist says. “I really want to thank her.”

“Oh yeah?” I say, not really paying that much attention. “How come?”

“She saved my life,” Twist says. “She and Twilight saved all of us.”

I stop.

“Okay,” I say. “I think you’d better explain just what the hell’s been going on.”

*******

It’s not what I expected.

The lavish room full of rich, decadent ponies is nowhere to be found. In its place is a mess. Tables turned over. Pieces of art smashed and broken on the ground. I think I see a bloodstain. And a tooth. There was a fight here. A big one.

Which makes the next thing I see even more awe-inspiring than it would normally be. I look up at the stage at the far end of the room.

There, standing alone, triumphant in her solitude, is Miss Rarity.

I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.

For a moment, I’m paralyzed. I wasn’t expecting to see her like this. Standing alone, victorious, above all other ponies. Especially me.

And all at once, I remember why I fell in love with her.

She casts a curious look at me. “Who are you?” she asks.

No...has it really been so long? Does she not even recognize me?

When I was hers, I was prepared to suffer for her. To be beaten, broken and used. I was prepared to give my life for her.
There was only one thing I could never stand the thought of: being forgotten.

Or is this another one of her tricks? Is she pretending because she knows it’ll draw me back to her? Because if she is, it’s working.

“Miss Rarity?” I ask, a little desperately. “Don’t you remember me?”

I feel a warmth surrounding my body, and I realize my mistake. The spell. Of course. She didn’t recognize me because I still looked like Gentle Step. I’d completely forgotten about that.

But the shocked look on her face tells me that she’d just seen through the illusion.

“Silver Spoon,” she says.

There is such tenderness in her voice. I’ve heard it often, but rarely addressed toward me.

“At last,” I say. “I’ve finally found you.”

She looks so different from when I last saw her. There’s a weariness in her smile, a tried look in her eyes. It's only been a few months, but she looks older, too, though no less beautiful. Did prison take that much out of her?

“Come here, Silver,” she says. Instinctively, I obey. There is no thought to my actions, no hesitation. Even after all this time, her voice commands my total obedience. It takes me a moment for me to even notice what I’m doing.

I stop myself. I try to remember that this is the same pony who left me to die on the streets of Dead Weight Alley. I can’t let myself be taken in so easily. Not again. I’ve come so far since I belonged to her.

Her response to my resistance surprises me. She almost seems hurt.

“Miss Rarity, are you alright?” I ask. “You look really tired.”

“I’ve had a very long night, my dear,” she says. “So much has happened since I last saw you. And look at you! My goodness, you’re so beautiful this evening!”

And there it is. The most elusive thing in the world: A genuine compliment from Miss Rarity, out of nowhere. Offered freely, without my having to work, fight, or bleed for it.

It’s the last thing I ever expected from her. But a part of me wanted it more than anything in the world.

Without thinking, I find myself walking toward her again.

Her horn begins to glow, and I feel that same warmth on my body again.

“There we are,” says Miss Rarity. “I took the liberty of removing that false image that was cast on you. If there’s one field of magic I know, it’s illusion-casting. Besides, the world should see you as you really are, Silver Spoon.”

She sits down on the stage, almost seductively.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had my way with a foal? Not since I was thrown in prison,” she says. “There’s an ache inside of me, Silver Spoon. My need is greater than it’s been in ages. I spent the last week in Triage’s estate, mostly alone. There was a foal there, but she was beneath my notice. So I passed the time with my imagination. It wasn’t the same, but it kept my urges at bay well enough. And do you know who I imagined, when I was all alone?”

It takes everything I have, but I stop moving toward her.

“Sweetie Belle?” I ask.

“Yes, of course, my darling sister,” she says. “But I also thought of you. Not just of your body, and all the wonderful cruelties I inflicted upon it. Not just of your soft little lips or your eager tongue. No, my dear, I thought of your loyalty. So absolute, so unwavering. Your total, unending devotion. I didn’t appreciate it before, but…”

She sighs, and looks away from me, with a sad expression. “I’ve lost quite a few friends since we last saw each other,” she says. “Ponies who meant so much to me, whose friendship changed my life. Deep down, I knew the day would come when the two sides of my life would come into conflict. I loved my friends so much, but I knew they would never accept me. Not if they truly knew me.

“But you,” she says, looking back at me. “You accept me totally and completely. You, above all others, are the one pony I know I can trust. And I took that for granted. I threw you away in a fit of foolish anger.

“I’m sorry, Silver Spoon,” she says. She opens her front hooves, as if to embrace me from far away. “Come back to me. Please.”

Before I opened the door to the grand hall, I had promised myself that if Miss Rarity was okay, I wouldn't give in to any demands she made of me. I couldn’t fall back into my old habits. I had to resist her. I had to be free to choose what I wanted on my own, without her confusing my mind.

So I prepared myself. I was prepared for Miss Rarity’s tantalizing cruelty. I was prepared for insults, shaming, and taunts. I was prepared for her to give orders.

I wasn't prepared for affection. It was the last thing I expected from her. It was the one thing I wanted most.

And I am utterly powerless to resist it.

I’m not walking toward her anymore. I’m running. I find myself longing for the voice in my head, the one that used to tell me I was better than this, that tried to stop me from giving in to her.

But the voice is silent now. And whatever part of me it came from just isn’t strong enough.

I leap up onto the stage and embrace Miss Rarity. She hugs me tight and begins kissing me passionately.

I am nine years old. An adult is pushing her tongue into my mouth and I welcome it. I hear her breathing loudly with intense, predatory desire, and I welcome it.

I envision a future where I am once again a slave. Where I have thrown away everything I worked for all these months, all the progress I made. Where I am reduced to a mental wreck, like Happy Tune.

It scares me, but only for a moment. Then I catch a glimpse of her beautiful eyes, and I welcome it.

“Sweetie Belle will be here soon,” she says, as I plant kisses on her neck. “Then I will need to take care of some unpleasant business. Once that is done, the three of us will leave this place and find a new home together, and I shall never let either of you out my sight. My beloved sister, and my beautiful little whore. Mine forever.”

I can stop this right now. I can push myself out of her grip. I can run away. I can find Twilight and go home. I don’t have to live like this anymore!

I look up at Miss Rarity. She looks concerned. Maybe she senses my hesitation.

“Silver, please,” she says. “I need you.”

And with those three, perfect little words, it’s over.

“Yes,” I say, nuzzling her beautiful neck. “Make me yours again, Miss Rarity.”

I close my eyes. I feel myself falling, and I don’t care.

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

My eyes jerk open. The voice? It’s back?

“Oh, you’ve returned,” I hear Miss Rarity say. “I’ll thank you to keep your voice down.”

Wait...can Miss Rarity hear the voice, too?

“GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU UGLY OLD NAG!”

No.

That’s not the voice.

It’s really her.

I turn my head, still embracing Miss Rarity.

And I see Diamond Tiara charging the stage. I’ve never seen her so furious.

“SILVER!” she cries. “I’M HERE TO SAVE YOU!”

NEXT:

Three Little Foals
Unite once more
A Diamond came
And made them four

The silver foal will make a choice
The small sweet one will find her voice
The storyteller cries in rage
And one more body hits the stage

Four little foals will face their plight
And then shall come a silent knight