Curious, Tarnished Teapot eyed the fourth door in the hallway. This was a two bedroom apartment. He had seen the master bedroom, the bathroom, and the second, smaller bedroom. At the end of the hall was a fourth door.

He pushed it open with his hoof and stood dumbfounded. Beyond the door was a small room, smaller than the second bedroom, and it had been furnished as a study. There was a table, two chairs, and shelves lined the wall. A collection of rocks sat inside of a glass doored case. There were books on the shelves, so many books. Tarnish stood with his mouth agape. The walls were covered in a dark, plush, navy coloured crushed velvet that ran from floor to ceiling. The floor was some kind of thick, dark, purple-blue carpet. There was a narrow window, no more than a foot wide, and it was covered in heavy blue velvet drapes. There was no brass in this room, everything was finished in silver. Silver trim on the bookcases, the shelves, on the table, the twin lamps that sat on each end of the table so both he and Maud would have adequate light for study.

Tarnished Teapot was absolutely astounded by the generousity that had gone into this room. He stood frozen in the doorway, his mouth hanging open, unable to even call out to Maud, who was finishing up in the bathroom, doing whatever it was that mares did in the bathroom that took so long.

He made his way into the room and began to examine the rocks. He saw a few that he knew, but stopped when he came across a strange name. Lunar Troctolite. His lips moved, but no sounds came forth as he said the name to himself a few times in silence.

“Maud?” Tarnish cried out.

“What?”

Much to Tarnish’s surprise, Maud was right behind him. He hadn’t heard her coming into the room. He turned to look at her and nodded at the rocks on display. “What’s lunar troctolite?”

Maud did not reply, but pushed him aside. He bumped into a chair as Maud slid up against him. She eyed the rock with the funny name and stood there, unmoving. After what felt like a few minutes, Maud spoke.

“That’s from the moon.”

Tarnish blinked. “But… how… how did it get here?”

Maud shrugged in reply, but said nothing. The stone was priceless, worth a veritable fortune to any geology program. Sometimes, celestial objects struck the moon, knocked loose a good sized piece, and those pieces made their way down to terrestrial soil. Maud had never been lucky or privileged enough to see one up close. That one rock was worth more than the entire rock farm… or maybe even the entire town of Rock Haven.

“I have a very special rock,” Maud said in a voice that held no trace of emotion. She turned to look at Tarnish. “My knees feel weak, Tarnish. Is this what fainting feels like? Because I feel like I’m going to fall over.”

Knowing that Maud wouldn’t say it unless she actually meant it, Tarnish reacted the only way that he could. Using his magic, he lifted Maud and stuffed her into a chair, and then stood beside her as she sat there, blinking in a most peculiar way.

He felt Maud’s forelegs wrap around his neck and squeeze. He stood there, Maud clinging to him, not knowing how to react or what to say. She was breathing heavy and he could feel the quickened rise and fall of her barrel against him.

He understood that he needed to say something, the silence was beginning to feel weird, but he had no clue as to what should be said in the situation—so he just blurted out something random.

“Maud, this is our reward for being good ponies.”

Maud pulled away and Tarnish found himself staring into Maud’s brilliant turquoise eyes. She was still blinking in an odd way and her forelegs were still draped around his neck. He could feel the pulse in her fetlocks as they rested against his mane.

“It’s all so much all at once,” Maud said in a voice that wasn’t a monotone. Her voice quavered, rose and fell, but did so in a way that only those who knew her best would be able to notice it. Anypony else would have heard the same droning voice she always had. “Is this what it feels like to want to cry?”

“Maybe, Maud… I dunno,” Tarnish replied.

“I love you so much… I love our life together. I love where our life is going. Meeting you was the greatest thing that ever happened to me.” Maud closed her eyes, leaned forwards in her chair, and her snoot bumped up against Tarnish’s.

“I think I’d be dead without you.” Tarnish’s voice was a pained whisper—he closed his eyes, basking in Maud’s warmth and closeness, cherishing this moment of intimate closeness. A little while ago, in the shower, they had touched each other in the way that lovers do, intimate touches, the embrace of lovers, but now, it felt as though he could feel Maud’s soul touching his. This was a different touch entirely—Tarnish shivered as his and Maud’s snoots remained pressed together.

He sat down on the floor but was still tall enough for Maud to hold. He really was getting taller, no doubt about that, he was still in the merciless throes of an adolescent growth spurt.

A pony’s snoot was the tenderest, most sensitive, most fragile, most vulnerable part on their body. Packed with thousands of nerve endings, it allowed equinekind to explore their world, feel things, touch things, and it was how blind ponies read books, by rubbing their snoots over pages covered in special bumps that made up the alphabet.

And snoot touching was a special moment between ponies. A parent and their foal celebrating a moment of perfect trust. Two dear friends, who might touch in such an intimate way to let each other know that they care. Special someponies, who might allow such an intimate touch to linger for as long as possible, wanting and desiring to touch one another, to feel one another, to experience those little electric tingles that came with prolonged contact.

Maud and Tarnish remained together, Maud pressing her snoot against Tarnish’s, sharing breath, each one treasuring the touch of the other, hoping it would never end. The slightest movement, the merest twitch, it would cause the two fleshy pads to rub together and would send spine tingling chills racing down their necks, down their backs, and would cause a shivery sensation in their docks, a sensation so strong and that felt so good that their hind legs would tremble.

Alas, it was never meant to last as the world conspired against them. As Maud and Tarnish explored this most intimate of touches, there was a knock upon the door, interrupting them. The touch continued, snoots lingering in close proximity, and when the knock was heard again, it was Maud who pulled away, but not before giving Tarnish a quick peck upon the lips.

Helianthus, a larger than life pony, appeared to like living larger than life. She reclined in the back of the limousine carriage, holding a wine goblet half full of wine pinched in her fetlock. Her eyes held a manic glaze and something about them frightened poor Tarnish. He recalled all too well seeing Helianthus out in the wild, out on her ‘nature walk.’ He wondered what sort of earth pony she had to be to be so very large and to survive such a hostile environment.

She was friendly, that much was for certain, and Tarnish could not help but feel that he was being studied as the carriage went to wherever it was going. Her sunflower cutie mark had something most peculiar about it, but Tarnish had trouble putting his hoof on what it was.

“I have a question.” Maud’s voice smashed the silence, causing it to crumble.

“I might have answers,” Helianthus replied.

“If Tarnish and I have a foal together, how does that work with a secret society?”

Helianthus took a sip of wine, swished it around inside of her mouth, swallowed, and looked Maud in the eye. “We’re not exactly a secret society… I mean, we are, but we’re pretty relaxed about it being a secret. Ponies know we exist. We’re a collection of heroes, adventurers, thrill seekers, and as some might say, madponies.” Helianthus smiled, revealing perfect, square white teeth.

The big white earth pony smacked her lips.

“Foals are allowed to grow up in the society, but at a certain age, in adulthood, they are no longer allowed to stay. They forget where the building is, because they’re not invited, or they would, if this ever became a problem.” Helianthus’ face became serious. “So far, every foal born within the society has grown up to become an ideal model of the citizenry. Every one of them has earned a place within the society. We have a scout program that starts them off young. They grow up learning our ideals, they grow up with a sense of selflessness and goodness. We have families in the society that go back generations.”

“I see.” Maud turned to look at Tarnish for a moment and then returned her gaze to Helianthus. The two earth ponies stared at one another and an intense silence developed, a silence so thick that it could be cut with a knife.

“The apartment seems a little excessive,” Tarnish said, daring to break the oppressive silence that existed between the two mares.

“The apartment is but a minor reward,” Helianthus said in a dismissive, but warm and friendly voice. “Our members tend to do extraordinary things. We are not common ponies. Our members contribute to society in ways that few can. Some of our members have even given their lives for the greater good. Go for a stroll through the Memorial Hall sometime.”

Helianthus took another sip of wine, swallowed, and continued, “The society was set up to reward those that give so selflessly. Somepony has to thank those that give so much. There has to be some reward, some kindness, some means of return for all of the sacrifices done for the greater good. We are scientists, scholars, soldiers, we are ponies who tirelessly work to right wrongs… ponies have an idea of who and what Daring Do is, but they have no idea what she really does. How much of herself she gives. Or that almost all of the fortune amassed by writing and selling those novels is given to charity. A.K Yearling, the mare behind Daring Do, lives almost entirely upon the kindness of the Stiff Upper Lip Society. We cover her bills, shelter her, and give her a space for her creativity after she returns from her many missions.”

“So you try to free ponies from financial constraints and the things that would otherwise hold them back or somehow cripple their potential to do great things,” Maud said as she continued to study Helianthus.

“Correct.” Helianthus took another sip of wine. “Some of the most brilliant minds aren’t financially inclined. They do their work out of love. Poverty holds them back. The potential for greatness is there, but squandered, wasted, lost due to circumstances. We try to collect brilliant minds and by helping them, we make the world a better place.”

“That… that… that actually makes a lot of sense.” Tarnish’s brow furrowed.

“Mister Briar is an excellent example of our philosophy in action… he started off broke, down on his luck, but he was the plucky sort. Smart. Not overly educated, but smart.” Helianthus looked down into her wine goblet, sighed, and then set it down in a cupholder.

Clearing her throat, Helianthus continued, “He got noticed. He was watched for quite a while, followed, if you will. He was kept under observation and we saw potential.” The big white earth pony’s face split open into a sunny smile. “Not too long after joining the society, one of his experiments yielded a new kind of mushroom with an exceptional protein content. In a generation, it is probably going to change how we eat, and no doubt, we will evolve a bit because of this discovery. Our minds will grow sharper. We will gain mental acuity. Given enough time and a steady high protein diet, we might become something else entirely. The potential is there.”

“Because intelligence is linked to high protein diets, or at least it is theorised.” Maud blinked and then looked at Tarnish. “Bugs are high in protein. You eat bugs. You’re ahead of the curve, Tarnish.”

Tarnish felt his cheeks grow warm as the carriage came to a halt.

“Ah, we’re here,” Helianthus said in a cheerful, sunny voice. “Mrs. Pie, let us see if we can clean up this diamond in the rough that you’ve found…”

Author's Notes:

Next chapter... burning desire.