No Storms In Canterlot

by Esle Ynopemos

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad, Rarity, Slice of Life
Length: 1526

The one thing about Canterlot that really got to Rarity was the rain.

The one thing about Canterlot that really got to Rarity was the rain. Not that the rain itself was terribly onerous—it actually rained less there than it did in most of the surrounding areas, since it took less rain to water the small parks and gardens than it did to keep farmland healthy. But the nature of the rain was so... inorganic. Without exception, every Tuesday and Thursday the weatherponies would begin gathering clouds in the early evening and there would be a light drizzle that lasted from seven thirty on into the night.

Rarity gets caught in the rain and catches a case of homesickness.

Published 2013-06-21 22:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-06-21 22:50:01 UTC

Don't Work Late On a Tuesday

Rarity sighed as she opened the door of her shop and peered outside. Gray clouds filled the sky, and there was already little streams of rainwater running between the cobbles in the street. One of these days, she would learn not to work late on Tuesdays. Just one of the habits she had picked up in Ponyville, she supposed. Native Canterlotians knew better than to stay at work past seven thirty on a rain-day.

She unfolded her umbrella and fixed it to its carrying saddle. Hardly anypony ever brought an umbrella to work—why would they, when everypony already knew when it was going to rain and thus when to get inside? But one Ponyville habit helped her compensate for the other. Her work ethic that wouldn't let her pack up and go home until the job was done, no matter what day of the week, was covered for by lessons learned as a filly to always be prepared for an unexpected swing in the weather.

Being prepared did not keep the sigh from her lips, however. She hated the rain in Canterlot; it was the one thing about the city that really got to her. Not that the rain itself was terribly onerous—it actually rained less there than it did in most of the surrounding areas, since it took less rain to water the small parks and gardens than it did to keep farmland healthy. But the nature of the rain was so... inorganic. Without exception, every Tuesday and Thursday the weatherponies would begin gathering clouds in the early evening and there would be a light drizzle that lasted from seven thirty on into the night.

It wasn't the weatherponies' fault. Okay, it was, in a way, but they could hardly be blamed for doing their jobs properly. It was just that it felt so monotonous, never getting a real spring storm like there would be in Ponyville when the weatherponies put off the rains for too long or when a wild chinook would rise out of the Everfree. Rarity recalled many nights sitting by the window back at Carousel Boutique, warming up with a mug of tea while she watched the lightning fork across the sky and listened to the thunder roll over the valley.

Funny that she would miss something like that. Rarity remembered that whenever Ponyville had been subject to a surprise deluge she had only ever complained. She distinctly recalled swearing revenge on Rainbow Dash one time when a last-minute rain shower had forced her to cancel a picnic. But somehow, it got to her that there was nothing like that here in Canterlot. There was just the mechanical rhythm of the twice-weekly shower scheduled late enough in the day to not catch anypony out of doors when the clouds broke.

Or most ponies, anyway. Rarity carefully sidestepped and danced around the puddles with a grace that came only from practice. It hadn't taken her very many trips across the dampened city to learn which cobbles between her shop and her apartment were safe high-ground and which ones would wobble and dump her in the mud.

Her contemporaries might have thought her dance through the wet streets an odd one, but none of them were outside to see her. The streets were deserted. They were all dry and safe in their homes, because everypony in Canterlot knew not to work late on a rain-day.

Rarity pushed open the door to her apartment complex, shaking off the cold and the few drops of rain that her umbrella had failed to ward off. She unfastened the umbrella and gave it a shake, flicking the moisture out of the front door before closing it.

A stallion in a well-pressed uniform smiled at her in greeting. “Evening, Miss Rarity,” he said.

Rarity smiled back at the door-pony, wiping her hooves on the welcome mat. “Good evening, darling. I hope I didn't keep you out in the rain.”

He shook his head. “I've learned better than to wait outside for you on a Tuesday. Oh, that reminds me.” The door-pony drew a tan envelope from the breast pocket of his uniform. “You got a letter in the mail today.”

Rarity took the envelope in her telekinetic grasp. “Thank you, dear. You didn't need to hold onto it for me.”

The stallion shook his head. “It was going to get wet in the rain, ma'am. Besides, it's the least I can do after the work you put into my uniform.”

Rarity took a glance at the return address on the envelope. Ponyville. She gave the stallion a grateful smile. “Well, thank you nevertheless. I think I'll go have a look at this up in my apartment.”

“Of course. If you need anything, you know where to find me.” The door-pony straightened into a crisp posture and retook his position by the door.

The stairs creaked quietly beneath Rarity's hooves as she climbed them up to her third-story apartment. The constant shush of the rain outside seemed to soften all other noise. She could hear muted sounds of plates clinking and pleasantries being exchanged as her neighbors had dinner. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she had once again neglected to eat anything since breakfast this morning. She resolved to fix herself a spinach casserole in order to solve this problem.

The door to her apartment swung open noiselessly. Rarity let out a soft sigh as she hung her umbrella on its hook by the door, set her saddlebags on the table to sort out later, and headed into the kitchen to start work on dinner.

The gray clouds outside rumbled and the rain pattered softly against her window pane as Rarity took a knife to the vegetables. She filled a pot with water and set it to heat on the stove top. Another minute had her rinsing and straining the spinach. A couple eggs. Salt and pepper. She knew the recipe by heart, and making it was automatic for her.

Once things were set to boil, Rarity returned to the table. The envelope lay atop the pile of things to be sorted and put in their place. She took one more glance at the bubbling pot on the stove before seizing the letter in a magical blue glow.

The letter slid easily out of the envelope. Rarity sat down and began reading.

Dear Rarity,

It's springtime in Ponyville. I can tell because Dash and the weatherponies ended up having to cook up another thunderstorm. It's the third one since Winter Wrap-up, and sometimes I wonder if that mare just forgets the regular rain schedule on purpose so she can watch the thunderbolts go off. Anyhow, I'm sitting here in the barn listening to the rain beat on the door, and it's got me thinking about that night with you and Twi. I don't say it often, but I'm glad I got caught out in the rain just that once. We had some times then.

Geez, you're both up in Canterlot now, aren't you? And this is Dash's last spring with the weather team before she heads off on her first tour with the Wonderbolts. Sometimes it feels like I'm gonna be the only mare left in Ponyville before too long. Don't you worry, though. Pinkie, Shy and I'll keep this place in order for you. You'll be dropping by for the Summer Sun Celebration, right?

A.B. and your sis are getting along just fine. I know there was a bit of uneasiness when Sweetie got her mark before Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, but last week the two of them helped her set up for a performance. Wish you could've heard her, Rarity. She sang in front of the whole town, and I wouldn't be honest if I said it didn't bring a tear to my eye.

This storm could've come at a better time. I got a grove of saplings that aren't going to like all this wind none, and I can't fix the roof on this barn till it clears up a little. But hay, you don't need to hear about my problems. I guess I'm glad it's given me the time to sit down and put some ink on a letter for you.

Anyway, this rain'll probably have let up by the time this gets to you. I just wanted to let you know that I'm thinking of you. We're all thinking of you, and Twi. I hope Canterlot is treating you all right.

—Sincerely yours, Applejack.

Rarity let the letter drift back to the table. The smell of cooked spinach wafted to her from the kitchen as she watched the water run in rivulets down her window. She took a deep breath, and folded her forehooves in front of her muzzle on the table.

And then it began raining in earnest.

Author's Note

The first of my Thirty Minute Ponies entries to get edited and expanded into a full standalone story. The prompt was "Sudden spring storms."

Find more in my compilation here.