Cloudy Quartz lifts her nose just a fraction. “Hadst that her only folly been,” she continues, not deigning Doug’s snide remark with a response, “she wouldst still recrimination face. After she strayed, away she stayed, yet created cracks her departure didst. For where art Maud and Octavio? They her prideful hoofsteps follow.”

“Prideful?” Doug crosses his arms across his chest. “You can hardly blame her for their choices.”

“Neigh?” Cloudy Quartz meets his gaze, steady as a rock. “Had returneth she after a year of Rumble Running, wouldst we in this situation be?”

“If she returned here,” Doug snaps back, “a thousand years of darkness we might have suffered.”

“I’ll show you a thousand years of darkness,” Limestone Pie growls at Doug; at her sire’s commanding throat clearing she spins to curtly address her family. “Shouldn’t you all be working?”

Igneous glances to the sky. “Our noon-time meal approacheth,” he evenly states, giving Doug, Lemon, and Meringue a guarded smile that seems to be as far upward as his muzzle will go. He pointedly ignores Pinkie Pie, much to the pink mare’s distress. “Wilt thou join us?” With faces hard set the rest of the Pie family disperses, though Marble Pie gives a curious look back, quickly hiding it when Cloudy Quartz glances her way.

Doug doesn’t hear any objections - Pinkie Pie gets his side wet as she presses her head against him, but doesn’t say anything - and hopes they can get to the bottom of this. “Sure.”

Igneous gives a solemn nod, leaving the four behind.

“Pinkie, you doing okay?” Doug asks as he finally returns his mare’s plaintive hug. “You don’t have to go through with this. We can leave, and put this…” He sighs, knowing what her answer will be. “Put your family behind you.”

“W-well,” Pinkie Pie forces out between heaving, half-stifled sobs, “the m-map sent m-me here f-for a r-reason, right?” She offers a smile that verges on cracking in half. “Y-y-yey, we found it!” She blows a kazoo she got from somewhere, yet even the cheerful noise fails to dispel her glower.

“That’s the spirit!” Lemon joins Doug in delivering a much-needed hug to her dam. “So, what’s the plan?”

Doug has no idea where to even start. “Any idea why your parents are acting so distant?”

Pinkie Pie frowns as she taps at her chin, staring up at the sky. “They were always super strict about following the rules. Traditional, too; like, there were tons of things we weren’t allowed to say, or do, or even think.” She glances back at her three balloons cutie mark. “Like, when I threw my first party after I got my cutie mark? That was the first time I had ever seen balloons. Or cake. Or decorations! Outside of our Hearth’s Warming decorations, of course, but those are mostly rocks.”

Doug rubs at the back of her mane, hoping to help restore its springiness. “Really?”

“No.” Pinkie Pie sniffs. “All our decorations are rocks.”

“Unacceptable.”

“Ssh,” Pinkie Pie consoles, hugging her youngest filly even as Meringue looks like she wants no part in any cuddling. “It’ll be okay.” She offers Doug a sad yet struggling to be hopeful smile. “Right?”

“Right.” Doug musses with Meringue’s mane as he addresses each of them in turn. “We’ll need to figure out more. Meringue, chat with Marble. Lemon, get to know Limestone. Pinkie, stick with me. We’ll figure out what’s going on and get everything right as rain.”

“Logical decision.”

“You got it, hoss,” Lemon shoots back as they walk to the rustic farmhouse. The only way Pinkie Pie could get closer to Doug would be if he rode her, an action he strongly suspects would not endear him to her relatives.

The decorations inside are identical to the ones outside, jutting crystal pillars too small and pointy to sit on; instead, they glow, casting the otherwise darkened rooms in a pale light. The heavy, plain curtains on the windows would give Rarity a fit, especially with how they are drawn against the noon sun. Marble Pie ushers them to the dining room; there are a few gray-scale paintings of the nearby mountains scattered over the hearth and the otherwise plain walls.

Four settings line each side of the long wooden dining table, one of which has a blue rock plunked in a bowl of thin brown soup. A large serving dish sits at the center of the table with more soup, and scattered smaller dishes hold hard rolls and loose greens. The Pie family have taken up their seats on one side of the table and regard them with long looks. Pinkie Pie pushes past Doug to the bowl already served; she gives him a long look and smile that says, ‘Don’t complain about how they are treating me; we’ve got this’. Doug takes the ‘seat’ closest to Igneous (there aren’t any chairs; he kneels on knees long accustomed to the position) while Lemon and Meringue stand opposite Limestone and Marble, though Meringue can barely touch the table much less see over it until she stands on her suitcase like a stool.

“Before our bread we break,” Cloudy Quartz states, turning to admonish Limestone with a hard, resolute look, “apologize I must for mine filly’s wanton outburst.”

Limestone bites her lip to keep from saying anything that might get her in more trouble; with visible effort she swallows, nodding a resigned acceptance before leaving the room.

“As of her scorn thou art the target,” the flinty gray mare says to Doug as Limestone returns with a long, thin switch in her teeth that she presents to him, “T’is thy due to administer punishment.”

Doug finds himself taken aback. He can’t immediately place the outburst Cloudy Quartz is talking about. Her remark about showing him darkness? How does that deserve any sort of punishment, much less whipping her? And making her bring him the very implement? She certainly doesn’t look happy about it.

“Look,” he diplomatically starts, trying to head off wherever this is going. “Far be it for me to tell you how to run your house, but it’s fine; I don’t take any offense to her ‘outburst’, as you said.”

Cloudy Quartz waits a moment, then nods. “Very well.” Limestone draws in a sharp breath with a displeasure Doug didn’t expect. “For the forsaking of Friendship and Kindness to one offered hospitality.” She takes the switch from her filly.

Limestone presents her backside and braces herself. “Yes, dam.”

Two savage strikes of the switch leave stinging stripes on the gray mare’s flanks. She hisses in pain after each, yet says nothing, returning to standing at the table with only the occasional twitch of her hind legs showing any discomfort.

Doug grits his teeth. Lemon gasps, gnawing at her lip as her focus dances between Doug and Limestone, torn between suppressing her reaction like her sire and intervening, or at least offering Limestone some sympathy. Meringue’s eyes narrow like she is taking notes on how to swing a switch.

Igneous takes over as Cloudy Quartz puts the switch away. “Our admonition complete, again we in harmony gather.” He places first one elbow on the table, then the other, his frogs touching together, and bows his head. The other Pies copy him, Pinkie included. Lemon and Meringue follow suit shortly, leaving Doug to slightly incline his head and clutch his hands together, again wondering where this is going.

“In Friendship’s pursuit we gather today. Let us laugh in troubled times. Motivate us by kindness to all; remind us where our loyalty lies. Keep us from conceit and greed, and our tongues from spreading falsehood.”

The other Pies chorus, “Gather us together, united in harmony.”

The prayer, or whatever it was, bothers Doug; it seems so at odds with how they are treating Pinkie Pie. And Limestone, for that matter. An uncomfortable silence descends, a sharp contrast to the often unruly atmosphere at the Carrot House, broken only by the occasional clatter of hooves against the table. Igneous serves himself a bowl of soup with a long ladle, including a chunk of blue rock that juts out like an island. He passes the ladle to Cloudy Quartz, who murmurs thanks while serving herself a similar portion, and down the line the ladle goes, though Marble stays silent, merely offering a nod to Limestone. Meringue struggles to reach the serving dish, stretching out and nearly climbing on the table, but Limestone’s unhappy grunt keeps Lemon from helping. Pinkie Pie doesn’t touch the ladle when Lemon passes it to her, leaving Doug to reach across and serve himself, though he has to fish around for the last chunk of rock. There aren’t any utensils; instead, everypony lifts the bowl to their mouth to slurp their portion down.

Initially, he doesn’t expect much from the thin gruel with small pieces of barley floating under the brown surface. To his surprise, it isn’t bland at all; instead, there is a metallic taste, the difference between tasting natural spring water compared to rain. Nopony else touches their rock, to his relief - he was worried he would have to excuse himself not eating it, if it was a saltlick or made of something other than the solid stone it seems to be - and his bowl empties quicker than he thought it would.

“This is quite good,” Doug compliments, deciding sugar to be a better tactic than vinegar - though he’ll probably need the entirety of Sugarcube Corner to get through this. He motions toward the serving dish, which is still half full. “May we have seconds?”

“Help thyself,” Igneous replies, waiting for Doug before refilling his bowl and - to Doug’s discomfort - Pinkie’s. She’s been uncharacteristically quiet, though her mane is still poofy, and that - along with her encouraging smile, even if the rest of her family isn’t smiling back - gives him a sliver of hope.

“I’m curious about the recipe,” Doug continues, as amiable as he can. “Barley, carrots, cucumbers, a touch of… something.” He pushes the rock with a finger. “Is the rock for show, for taste, for vitamins and minerals? Or… Dessert?”

“T’is an old recipe,” Cloudy Quartz answers, “from dam to filly passed. A pinch of calcium, finely ground.” She offers a kind smile. “The rock is for show.” Doug pauses, just nodding, with a look of intense concentration that a conversation about soup would not warrant; her head cocks to the side, somewhat puzzled. “About our ways, thou art curious. Neigh?”

“...I am,” Doug confesses, deliberating how direct he should be with his questions. He doesn’t want to bring up Pinkie Pie’s shunning, or whatever it is, or what might have caused it. What else is there to talk about? “Lots of questions, really. I guess I’ll start with this one.” He motions to the Pairing Stone, which stands nestled on one of the crystal decorations that must be specifically carved to hold the rounded end. “How exactly does this Pairing Stone work?”

“Eligible mares in one circle stand,” Cloudy Quartz explains, a touch of excitement in her voice. “In another, the stallions. One stallion spinneth the stone against the ground; betrothed wilt he be with the mares it does point. The mare to her left then taketh the stone to the circle of stallions, and spinneth the stone, until all stallions have been paired.”

Doug stares at her in naked disbelief. It’s exactly as bad as he thought.

“The choosing stone decreed,” Igneous adds as though it might help, “‘Thou shalt love each other.’ And lo, it was so; betrothed were we, and within a fortnight wed.”

“But,” Doug objects, struggling to phrase his objection.

“Sadly,” Igneous continues when Doug does not, “chosen hath Limestone Pie failed to be.”

“Twice,” the gray mare spits out, as bitter as her namesake.

“How…” Doug glances between Igneous and Cloudy Quartz. They seem reasonably appropriate for each other. Yet randomly pairing off… there has to be something more, something he is missing. “How does the stone choose?”

Cloudy Quartz frowns for just a moment. “T’is a rock. It spinneth until to a stop it cometh.” She waits a beat. “The final spin, shouldst one stallion remain, t’is a conclusion forgone, but done still.”

“Seriously?” Doug’s hands come up to massage his aching temples, and he can’t help but give a single strangled laugh. “You can’t possibly base a relationship on, on, on nothing!”

Cloudy Quartz and Igneous share a long look, practically embedding an entire conversation with just stares, minute twitches of muzzle, and abridged snorts and sniffles. She turns back to him, asking with a hint of incredulity, or perhaps ridicule if it was anypony else, “Upon what foundation wouldst thou a relationship base?”

“I don’t know,” Doug shoots back. “Similar goals? Mutual attraction? Shared interests?”

“Madness,” Igneous mutters, shaking his head. “Truly our filly didst not these favor!”

“Hey!” Pinkie Pie objects. “He did! And he was super optimistic, and kind, and loyal, and generous, and honest! All the qualities you taught me to look for!”

Marble adds a quiet, “Mmhmm!”

Cloudy Quartz and Igneous exchange a quick glance, doing their best to ignore Pinkie Pie’s interjection. “And believeth thou,” she continues to Doug as Igneous returns to a stoic standing, “our relationships these qualities lack?”

Doug crosses his arms across his chest, infuriated they keep ignoring his mare. “It seems exceedingly unlikely that they would have them, correct. You’re not even arranging a marriage between two ponies whom you believe would be a good match for each other. You’re leaving it up to chance!”

“The mares thy didst herd,” Cloudy Quartz asks, again with an air of austerity that sets Doug’s teeth gritting against each other. “Did they thine goals, thine attractions, thine interests share?”

Doug reels, suddenly on the back foot. “Of course they do,” he shoots back, even as his confidence buckles.

Cloudy Quartz stares at him, her head slightly tilted to the side as if asking him to reconsider.

With a huff Doug stares back, but that doesn’t stop him from dredging up how their relationships started. Did he and Applejack share goals, attraction, interests? Sure, more than the others. Rarity? Mostly. Rainbow Dash? He scowls. Not at all; she wanted nothing to do with him, and they only ended up herding because of Scootaloo. But they got there! And the rest…

“Eventually,” he finally answers, her stare getting to him. “But that was, or at least should be, the exception. Not the rule.”

“But maketh it work thy didst,” Cloudy Quartz presses. “Despite thy differences, thy at-odds goals, thy inflamed passions that sputter out as so much tinder. For called we art to in Harmony live. Neigh?”

“Sure,” Doug admits, though his frown remains. “But that doesn’t excuse failing to minimize those differences. You’re being unrealistic, or at the very least idealistic. What if somepony fails? Or isn’t happy with their ‘chosen’ partner?”

“Perhaps,” Cloudy Quartz admits. “Perhaps. Our members from a tight-knit group cometh, with eyes open, our ways already pledged to uphold. Those whom with this life disagree?” Her eyes flick to Pinkie Pie, then immediately back to Doug, with a hint of annoyance that she slipped up. “Leave they art free to, as choose many.”

“Too many,” Limestone echoes, still failing to repress her scowl. “Especially the stallions.”

“Those that remaineth,” Cloudy Quartz continues, “knoweth that for a higher purpose is their herding. Doth Harmony prompt deceit, or greed, or despair? Neigh. Neither shouldst we, in any aspect of our lives. The fruits of right living, the yield of a solid foundation, are the traits thou so highly values. Should it matter with whom thou art called to grow those fruits? Neigh. Thus, with whom one herds should not matter, as the call is the same: to pursue Harmony in all things, and to encourage thy partner in the same, and likewise be encouraged by them.”

Doug can’t find an objection to this, as he mostly agrees; it would suck to be in such a situation, but if one finds themselves there, one should do their best to make it work.

He blinks a few times as it hits him.

“Wait.” Doug turns to Pinkie Pie. “Please tell me you didn’t intentionally find the pony, or person, you were the least compatible with. That needed ‘encouragement’.”

Pinkie Pie sheepishly scratches at the back of her mane. “Err… maybe?”

Next Chapter: Ch. 165 - Ancient Waystones, Part Three Estimated time remaining: 5 Hours, 60 Minutes