Dinner is a simple affair, hardly uncommon in the Apple household despite their skyrocketing status. Certainly not how Diamond Tiara would run things, given the option. Hedge, kind as ever, serves fresh wheat bread with thick helpings of apple butter and sides of carrots, cucumbers, and - as always - whole apples. More apples than you could eat in a setting, or a lifetime, going by the heaping baskets of green and red and gold. If Diamond Tiara never saw another apple in her life? Well, it’s probably too soon to make a judgment like that; she has a solid feeling in her belly, like an apple seed taking root, that she’ll find herself eating apples more often than not. A fate she supposes she can live with, thinly sliced with a selection of fine cheeses.

Dinner is also a somber affair, with only her and the two youngsters inside while Granny Smith fades along with the setting sun on her porch rocker. An eerie quiet, unnatural and so unlike the previous times she has eaten here, the absence of the other fillies and mares sorely felt. It is nice, in a way, that she can spend her focus solely on Pomarbo and not need to worry about the rest interfering.

The other two eat like famished foals, as if their sisters are still around and the food might run out at any moment. At least, the food that Applejack or one of the mares is willing to prepare, as there is always forage to be found in the pantry or the cellar. Not that she would deign to lug it up; colts are good for some things, after all. She takes one dainty bite after another, careful not to spill a crumb.

“Excuse me,” Hedge whispers as she clears her and Pomarbo’s empty plates. If she hadn’t said anything, Diamond Tiara might not have even noticed; the pegasus’ tan coat blends into the floorboards, her demeanor not very different from the doormat. In fact, if Diamond Tiara did not pay close attention to the student body over which she presides, she might have missed Fluttershy’s foal completely. “I need to go feed the chickens. And the pigs.”

Diamond Tiara looks down at her plate. Half the meal remains, with gnawed apple cores neatly lined up on the side. She dreads going full Apple, inhaling the entirety of her meal in one bite. Why even bother eating if you’re not going to savor the taste? “You could have sliced them,” she reprimands, sticking her nose up as the pegasus meekly slides the remains off her plate.

“Next time,” Hedge promises with a faint smile, balancing the dirty plates between her hooves before briskly walking (more like upright staggering, an admittedly impressive imitation of their sire) to the counter. With concerted effort that stems from deliberate practice she flaps her wings and slowly rises until she can deposit them next to the sink. The scraps (not that there are many) go into a large wooden bowl, along with the rest of the bruised or not-so-fresh fruits in danger of spoiling.

Pomarbo watches his sister leave with, if Diamond Tiara reads him right, a flicker of longing, or perhaps boredom, and he continues staring at the door even after it closes. The silence is even more obvious without the two Apples chomping down their meal, and she would rather fill the void with cries of pain than the sounds of her chewing.

“You’re being quiet,” she remarks, hardly uncharacteristic of the colt. Normally she would take a more circumspect route, disguise her intentions, but the Apples have a penchant for forthrightness. “Did what Button Mash say bother you?”

Pomarbo squirms in place, avoiding her gaze before finally turning. “Ah get wantin’ to be real good at a game,” he says, shaking his head with a certain bewilderment, “but not wantin’ to play a game at all unless ya masteried it? Ya don’t have to mash buttons, but how’d’ya ever get good in the first place?”

“Lots of study,” Diamond Tiara explains; the curious colt hasn’t asked a rhetorical question yet, and she doubts he is starting now. He nods along at her answer with a dawning understanding. “Kind of like school. Ponies do that for sports, games, and you’d be a foal if you don’t do it in your business.” She pauses with a slight frown; it continues to bother her that he doesn’t have a cutie mark, and this discomfort butts heads with a reluctance to pressure him. Even if such pressure could very well be the buck in the flank that finally gets him a mark. “Any activity that involves your cutie mark.”

Pomarbo glances at her flank, and she finds herself enjoying his lingering attention. “Do ya ever study for your cutie mark?”

She coyly covers her tittering muzzle, not wanting to insult him as with a snort. “All the time.”

“Oh. Really?” His gaze travels to the tiara atop her mane. “What’s that kinda studyin’ look like?”

Diamond Tiara takes a dainty bite of her apple, chewing as she mulls over the best answer. “Observation. A Rich pony must always know where she stands, and one must pay close attention to her surroundings to do so.” She takes another bite as he processes this. “Do you still have that guessing game your sire gave Pinkie Pie?”

“Yeah!” He goes to the haphazard stack of board games, right where she knows it is, with a fond smile. A brief scamper later and he has the pink top off and the cards - which depict each and every resident of Ponyville in various positions and expressions - spread out on the table. “He updates it every year on their herdy-ver-sary!”

Diamond Tiara does let out a snort this time: the latest update includes all the changelings that relocated to Ponyville. However, with two exceptions (Pharynx and Chrysalis), every single one of the black beetle-like equines looks identical, only their stances and backgrounds differing. Actually, no, that’s not quite right: they have unique placements and sizes of the holes in their limbs. None of them look anything like they do today; she’d be hard pressed to pick Thorax out of the group, or Ocelus.

“Pinkie wants an early update,” Pomarbo continues, snickering to himself as he sifts the cards around to find the eagerly grinning pink mare. “Daddy wants to wait until the last of the little ones are born. Ah think that happened, ‘cept for Chryssy, but he’s been busy.” He grabs a baked apple chip from a bowl, then motions with it towards the cards. “You know all these ponies?”

“Of course.” Ponyville isn’t large enough, like Manehattan, for there to be ponies she has not or never will meet. She starts plucking cards at random, not needing to check the back. “Burnt Oak. Sunshower. Pinny Lane.” The colt’s look of awe feels exceptionally nice. “Studying everypony got me that far. But what my cutie mark helps with is knowing how to get those ponies to do what I want them to do.”

“Ya mean, like, if’n ya wanted to win the most medals at the Equestria Games?”

“Precisely.” Diamond Tiara begins sorting the speedier pegasi into one pile, the athletic earth ponies into another. “With each pony restricted to competing in only one event, it becomes a question not only of what category they would perform best in, but finding the pony best suited for each category. And then you have to take their competition into account.”

Pomarbo’s blank stare prompts her to explain further.

“Take Rainbow Dash.” She slides cards around until she comes across the chromatic maned pegasus, posing as though she just won a race. “She’s the fastest sprinter in Ponyville - although it’s more of a contest with her being pregnant - and no slouch in the distance department. You could put her in the ten mile, hundred mile race, and she’d have a strong shot at medaling. But gold? Unlikely.”

Pomarbo gnaws at his lip. “Because of Cloudsdale.”

Diamond Tiara nods. “Because of Cloudsdale. They have a depth of airborne talent that, to be frank, Ponyville would struggle to match. Fortunately, that depth extends almost exclusively to the flying fields, and few other cities have competitors on their level.”

“They snatched up all the good ones,” Pomarbo says with a certain glee. “We’d be guaranteed second!”

Diamond Tiara grimaces, wiping the grin off Pomarbo’s face. “Which is why we need to remind ponies like Thunderlane where their loyalties lie. We can’t have our Wonderbolt recruits racing for Cloudsdale, we need him sprinting for Ponyville.” She slots the black pegasus into the ten mile race. “Open Skies and Clear Skies, they aren’t much for racing, but there’s not a duo better at cloud-wrangling. Button Mash? Arcade gaming.”

Hours later, the last of the hundreds of categories filled, and Diamond Tiara looks over her work with a strong sense of satisfaction. Convincing everypony they will compete in these events will merely require smoothing a few ruffled feathers here and there.

She glances over at her compatriot. She’s not sure how long he’s been asleep, with his head resting on her withers and lightly snoring, but she didn’t notice, so engrossed was she in her project. She doesn’t want to disturb him, and one night sleeping outside a bed won’t be that disruptive. She rests her head on his, closes her eyes and counts the pegasi that zoom by in one race after another.

April 27th, 1001 Domina Solaria

Diamond Tiara wakes up to the sound of Hedge bringing in the chicken eggs. Now there’s a pony who needs to hurry up and get her animal caretaking cutie mark! She yawns, snuggling closer to the warm body next to her, before jolting fully awake with a start. Well, if Hedge objects to her sleeping next to Pomarbo, she doesn’t show it, merely giving the two sleepyheads a smile and asking about their pancake preferences.

A stack of whipped cream and strawberry pancakes later and the two hit the town, spreading her plan. She lets Pomarbo take all the easy to convince ones. Nopony objects, or not for long, a few expressing regret at not competing in their favorite field.

It isn’t until late afternoon that the Apple herd returns to Sweet Apple Acres, all achatter about their trip to the Crystal Empire.

“Excuse me, Rainbow Dash?” Diamond Tiara grins, peeling the pegasus away from the group. “Your assignment for the Equestria Games.”

“Hey, DT! Ooh, which one?” Rainbow Dash smirks as she grabs the slip of paper. “Ten mile?” Her smile, much to Pinkie Pie’s abject horror, flips upside down. “Wait, wait, wait,” she exclaims, stamping a hoof over her name. “You saddled me with Fluttershy and Bulk Biceps?”

“It makes sense-” Pomarbo starts before being silenced by Diamond Tiara’s quick wave.

“You know I’m better at sprinting,” Rainbow Dash continues, heating up and drawing the attention of the other mares. Fluttershy, hearing her name, trots closer. “I mean, at least it’s a race, but a relay team? Seriously?”

“Who,” Diamond Tiara asks with a pointed stare, not backing down at Rainbow Dash’s aggressive stance, “would you be competing against in the ten mile sprint?”

Rainbow Dash huffs, looking away and at first not about to answer the question. “Fleetfoot,” she finally spits out.

“And,” Diamond Tiara continues, “do you want to race against Fleetfoot in your current condition? Or when you’re at your peak?”

Rainbow Dash’s frown lengthens to the point where Pinkie Pie comes inches away from manually assisting in its righting. “No,” she finally admits, still pouting and not about to let her herdmate get her hooves on her muzzle.

“Thunderlane will medal for Ponyville in the ten M,” Diamond Tiara reassures, driving the point home with a sharp jab. “As long as somepony can convince him to race for Ponyville.”

Rainbow Dash rolls her eyes. “Fine. But Bulk Biceps? Seriously? Shouldn’t he be, oh, I don’t know, lifting weights?”

“Oh? Just him?” Diamond Tiara flutters her eyelashes innocently as her gaze flickers to Fluttershy.

Rainbow Dash huffs, continuing to stare down the young mare.

“There are a number of earth ponies stronger than him,” Diamond Tiara explains, drawing a tight grimace from Rainbow Dash. “It’s never been his strongest field.”

“...He does train on his flying a lot,” Rainbow Dash finally concedes. “We just need to work on speed. And, maybe, streamlining.” She snickers. “I don’t know if he can fit through some of the obstacle rings.”

“A-and you don’t mind having me on your team?” Fluttershy looks halfway between pleased and horrified out of her mind. “I-I would have thought that you wouldn’t want me.”

“Are you foaling me?!” Rainbow Dash grabs Fluttershy’s forelegs and drags her off the ground and into the air. “I’ve seen you zip across a field faster than I can blink to catch a falling bird!”

“Or a falling unicorn,” Diamond Tiara reminds.

“O-oh,” Fluttershy moans, gently floating down while covering her eyes. She chances a peek once she lands. “Well, as l-long as there aren’t any r-rampaging d-dragons…”

“Ah dunno,” Applejack remarks, shooting Rarity a wink. “Ah heard Our Town’s flag-carryin’ routine might do the trick. Ah ain’t even mad that Ponyville ain’t leadin’ the charge!”

“Ugh,” Diamond Tiara moans as both she and Fluttershy rub at their heads, but for entirely different reasons. “Don’t remind me.”

Next Chapter: Ch. 155 - Mutated Growth, Part One Estimated time remaining: 7 Hours, 31 Minutes