Sapphire

Fluttershy sat on her worn and frayed couch, its cushions slightly stiff but comfortable, and whispered to herself. Afternoon sunlight and a murmuring breeze came in through her open windows. An open book rested before her, a novel Rarity had recommended and let her borrow, but Fluttershy discovered at the end of every page that she couldn’t remember anything she had read. She started flipping to pages at random instead, reading bits and pieces of emotions and characters and scenes. She felt like she was passing through someone else’s childhood memories, every scene broken up by long dark gaps, and the connections indistinct and unknowable.

In the pages she saw a deep longing, an overwrought description of a slowly flowing stream, a potential heartbreak, a clever comparison between a bee’s hurried manner of flying and the confusing modern need to feel productive even while at leisure, and a kiss that was short but overflowing with emotion. All the while, Fluttershy whispered to herself, “Elegant, intelligent, sophisticated.”

Her cottage was nervous. The animals that lived in and around her home were sensitive to her emotions. When she was relaxed, so was the cottage. Birds would doze on the stoops of indoor birdhouses or chirp softly to each other across the way, cats would nap on the windowsills, dogs would laze about on floor, Angel would settle down in her mane and stay quiet and amiable.

But when Fluttershy was nervous, like now, the cottage was nervous, too. The birds hurried back and forth across the ceiling, chittering irritably and ruffling their feathers, the cats sauntered about, tails twitching testily, claws ready, the dogs sat just by the couch, whining, tails wagging, eyes wide and concerned, and Angel hopped over the furniture, gesturing angrily at all the other critters.

Fluttershy flipped through some more pages and whispered to herself, “White coat, purple mane, blue eyes.” She hardly noticed the anxious buzz in the air around her. She hardly even noticed the book before her, and she certainly didn’t notice any of the words on the pages anymore. She felt like she needed to get up and run a lap around the cottage, and at the same time that she needed to stay seated or else she might become dizzy and faint.

When she had gone to bed, she had been calm, even a little excited. But she had never fallen asleep. Instead, she had thought and thought and thought, worried and worried and worried. She had too much time. Given time to think, Fluttershy could turn a golden egg into a rotten one with her worrying.

Velvet had come by that morning. A room at the White Hill had already been reserved.

At sundown, Fluttershy would walk into town, to the White Hill. She would find her room. She would go inside. She would wait, and then…

Until then, Fluttershy sat motionless on her stiff couch cushions and whispered to herself, “Sapphire, Sapphire, Sapphire.” Saying the name might make it real, might transform the pony from a brief description on a page into warm, living flesh. Flesh that Fluttershy would soon touch. That would touch her.

Fluttershy stood up abruptly, and the book fell from her lap. She accidentally stepped on one of the dogs’ tails, and he let out a sharp yip.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m so very sorry, Dusty,” she said, and then swallowed and sat back down, and whispered to herself, “Elegant, intelligent, sophisticated.”

The words had become a mantra. Her own ‘I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.’ She had repeated them so many times they didn’t sound like words anymore. They were only sounds, but sounds that reminded her of something. Of somepony. And thinking about that pony made her feel relieved, and scared, and a little guilty.

Fluttershy reminded herself again and again that she had once walked on the bridge of a dragon’s maw, that she had felt its scales and the heat of its terrible raging internal fires beneath her hooves, that she had seen its teeth, jagged and sharp and many. She reminded herself that she had been scared, so scared she couldn’t fly, so scared she couldn’t speak. And that she had protected her friends from the dragon, anyway. She had courage. She was an adult.

She was an adult. She was an adult. She was an adult.

Fluttershy stood up again and thought of Rarity’s voice and whispered to herself, “White coat, purple mane, blue eyes.” Fluttershy imagined some incredible alternate universe where she could have told Rarity what she was about to do. Rarity would have soothed her nerves and encouraged her, would have shared a cup of tea with her, recommended they spend an evening at the spa to calm down, told her that if Fluttershy needed any help, she would be available.

Fluttershy sat back down again and sighed and wished so desperately that it could have been Rarity’s whose name she repeated again and again, and not white coat, purple mane, blue eyes. That it could be Rarity and not Sapphire.

But it wasn’t Rarity, and it would never be Rarity.

Fluttershy whispered, “Sapphire, Sapphire, Sapphire.”

It was Sapphire, and Fluttershy needed to stop thinking about Rarity that way, because it was as impossible as it was rude. But Sapphire was real, even if she still only felt like a meaningless sound, an exhaled breath of air, a particular shape of her lips. If Fluttershy repeated it enough Sapphire would become real.

Tonight, she and Sapphire. They would kiss. Fluttershy closed her eyes and tried to imagine how it might feel, but couldn’t feel anything on her lips except another breeze coming in through her windows.

They would kiss, she told herself, and then they would do something more.

Fluttershy stood up and stepped carefully over the dogs around her couch, and their tails wagged and they watched her closely, and she ducked underneath the birds overhead and sidestepped the cats on the floor, and then walked to the edge of her floor rug. She turned around and walked to the other edge of her rug. She turned around and did it again.

Adult. She was going to become an adult tonight. She would leave the cottage a filly, but she would return a mare. And then everything would change. Or something would change. Something had to change.

In the very least, the next time she and Twilight and Rainbow Dash and Rarity sat down together around a table at the Bluestone for a late lunch, and Twilight told her some ponies developed slower than others, and Rainbow Dash told her she was the only one left, and Rarity asked her why she had never been intimate with anyone before, Fluttershy would be able to say without lying and without embarrassment that she, too, was an adult. Just like them. She wasn’t a virgin. She wasn’t strange. She wasn’t a filly. She wasn’t being left behind. She’d had sex. She had been intimate with another pony. She was an adult.

She was an adult.

Fluttershy tripped, then. Because then they would ask her When? How? and worst of all Who?

What would Fluttershy say? Sapphire? The pony she couldn’t even convince herself was real, was anything more than a sound no matter how many times she said the name out loud? They wouldn’t believe her. How could they? Not even Fluttershy could believe it. And Fluttershy would still be strange. Her friends had been with real ponies, ponies whose names you could say and know it meant something physical and alive and warm, something that spoke back when spoken to, something that pushed back when pushed. Her friends still had marefriends, and she didn’t. They had done it the right way, the way normal ponies did.

But Fluttershy would be an adult. No one could ever deny her that again. Fluttershy would have proof. Fluttershy would know. And Rarity would know, too. That would be enough. That would make it all worth it—her nervous cottage, her fluttering heart, her night spent lying awake in bed and worrying. Rarity would know Fluttershy was an adult, that she was strong, that she could take care of herself. Rarity would respect her again. Nothing else mattered, not now, not yet.

So Fluttershy whispered to herself, “White coat, purple mane, blue eyes.”

Somepony knocked on her door, and Fluttershy, along with the whole cottage, jumped.

Fluttershy composed herself and the cottage settled down, and she went to the door and opened it.

“Fluttershy!” Rarity said, standing in her doorway. She smiled and then her smile dropped and was replaced with a concerned frown. “Darling, you look a fright! What’s wrong?”

Fluttershy shook her head. Rarity was the first and the last pony she wanted to see. She desperately wanted to fold her hooves around Rarity’s withers and never let go, to feel her warmth and her strength. And she equally wanted to slam the door shut in the unicorn’s face and turn the lock. Fluttershy shook her head again and said, “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Rarity asked, stepping past Fluttershy and inside. “Was it that nasty badger again? What has he done this time?”

Fluttershy stared at the now-empty doorway. She closed the door and turned around. “No, it wasn’t him.”

It was you.

Rarity frowned at her. “What is it, then? Is one of the animals missing?”

It was me.

Fluttershy shook her head. “No, no one is missing. Everything is fine.”

I’m in love with you.

“Dear, we both know that isn’t true.” Rarity stepped towards the couch, bent down to pat a couple of the dogs on the head, and then sat down. “I know you and I know when you are fine. I know what this cottage looks like when you are fine, and this isn’t it. What’s wrong?”

I’m going to have sex with an escort tonight.

Fluttershy forced herself to smile and laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m really fine.”

I’m going to do it for you.

Rarity rolled her eyes. “I thought we were past this.”

I hate you and I don’t and I want you to get off my couch and I don’t and I want you to leave and I don’t and I want to kiss you.

“Past what?”

“You shutting me out,” Rarity said.

“I don’t know what to say.” Fluttershy walked over and sat down on the couch beside her friend and made herself laugh again. “There’s nothing wrong.”

“I’ll tell you the same thing I always do,” Rarity said. “I won’t push you, but whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be ready to listen. You know that, don’t you?”

Fluttershy looked across the room and saw Angel. He was watching her. He looked even more disappointed in her than Rarity did. She looked away. “I know.”

“Good,” Rarity said, and then smiled. “However, I came here for a particular reason, you know.”

“Yes?”

Rarity’s smile turned playful. “I have a surprise for you that I suspect will greatly improve your mood.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, indeed.” Rarity nodded and then giggled. “What do you think of Flitter?”

“She’s one of the ponies on the weather team, right? Cloudchaser’s sister?”

And then Rarity’s smile turned mysterious and knowing. “The very same.”

“Um.” The only thing Fluttershy knew about Flitter was that she had a pet owl named April who had come down with feather lice several summers before, which had then spread to the whole weather team. Rainbow Dash had scratched at her wings for weeks afterwards. It wasn’t April’s fault, of course. Feather lice were easy to catch and difficult to get rid of. “She’s… nice?”

“She most certainly is,” Rarity said, watching Fluttershy. “And cute, too, don’t you think?”

Fluttershy tried to think of what Flitter looked like, but could only think that in mere hours she was going to turn from filly to mare and White coat, purple mane, blue eyes still didn’t feel real enough, and that there was another White coat, purple mane, blue eyes sitting with her on her couch, and this White coat, purple mane, blue eyes was real and warm and Fluttershy wanted to stay and kiss her, instead. “I suppose so,” Fluttershy said.

“Well,” Rarity said, with an excited look on her face like she was about to give Fluttershy a new dress she had designed just for her, “I have it on very good authority, namely my own, that in just under an hour, our dear friend Flitter is going to be sitting alone at a table for two at the Bluestone, and that she is going to be more than open to the possibility of company. And in particular company in the form of a beautiful, modest pegasus with a delightful buttercup yellow coat.”

Fluttershy tried to protest, but her words got choked up in her throat.

“Now,” Rarity continued, “I’ve already made all the arrangements. All you have to do is go and meet her. Flitter’s a good pony. I think you would really like her if you took the chance to get to know her. She has a pet owl, I think. You could talk about that to get the conversation started.”

Fluttershy shook her head, finally finding her voice. “I can’t, I’m so sorry, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m, um, busy tonight.”

Rarity looked at her sternly. “Busy doing what?”

White coat, purple mane, blue eyes, Fluttershy thought, but knew she could never ever say so, couldn’t even formulate a lie in its stead. She only shook her head.

Rarity scooted closer to her, and Fluttershy felt her friend’s body’s warmth, and Rarity touched her side and smiled. “Fluttershy, I understand this is sudden and incredibly presumptuous, and I understand that this makes you nervous. But I also know that this has been bothering you the last couple days, and I wanted to help. You want a chance at a marefriend, at romance, at love, do you not?” Rarity touched her hoof to Fluttershy’s, and Rarity felt warm and sincere.

Fluttershy nodded, hesitantly.

“Of course you do.” Rarity smiled. “I’m not saying you need to go to the Bluestone and fall head over hooves in love, but why not give Flitter a chance? It’s only one date, an hour or two of your of evening, and it would do so much good for you. You might make a new friend, in the very least. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain from this. Please go meet with her, for me?”

Fluttershy frowned. Rarity was too wonderful, too caring, too knowing of her worries, and too eager to help remedy them. Fluttershy wondered at how she had made such a perfect friend, such a beautiful friend. Fluttershy felt sick. She couldn’t go see Flitter, even though she wanted to please Rarity. She had to go see White coat, purple mane, blue eyes, to become a mare, and adult.

“I can’t,” Fluttershy said.

“Of course you can.” Rarity sounded exasperated. “Whatever you had planned to do tonight, can’t it be postponed just two hours? For the sake of romance, dear? This is an opportunity. Seize it!”

Fluttershy opened her mouth to say she couldn’t again, but then stopped.

Couldn’t she go see Flitter? Rarity was right. This was an opportunity. Flitter was real. Flitter spoke back when spoken to, pushed back when pushed. Flitter was a chance at a real marefriend, a pony with a name that represented something physical and alive. Maybe Flitter made more sense than White coat, purple mane, blue eyes. She might even be less scary. Maybe Fluttershy could do this. Maybe if… “Will you be there?” Fluttershy asked Rarity.

“No,” Rarity said. “It will just be you and her.”

Fluttershy bit her lip. “Can you be there?”

“I’m sorry, dear.” Rarity frowned apologetically. “There’s somepony who requires my assistance tonight, and apparently it is urgent.”

Fluttershy looked down at the floor. If Rarity had been there, by her side, if Fluttershy could have felt her strength and encouragement, she thought she could do it. But without Rarity?

“I can’t do this for you, you know,” Rarity said, as if reading her thoughts. “I can never do this for you. I can arrange dates. I can tell you what to wear and where to go. I can even advise you what to say and how to kiss. But, ultimately, this is something you will have to do for yourself, on your own. I can’t date for you. I can’t fall in love for you.”

Fluttershy nodded. That was true enough. This was Fluttershy’s choice, and hers alone. It seemed regardless whichever she chose, Flitter or White coat, purple mane, blue eyes, she could never choose Rarity. But it was Rarity that Fluttershy wanted. Something similar to Rarity, something that reminded her of Rarity, might be the best she could ever hope for.

“Fluttershy?” Rarity asked.

“I have something I need to do tonight,” Fluttershy said. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand you sometimes.” Rarity sighed. “You pine for romance, but when an opportunity for such is laid in your lap, you refuse. Oh well, I suppose. I’ll let Flitter know you won’t be coming.” Rarity stood up, stiffly. “And, as I said, somepony needs my help tonight, and I should have begun preparing for her hours ago. I should be going.”

Rarity walked to the door, and Fluttershy got up and followed her.

Rarity opened the door, took a single step out, then paused. She looked to Fluttershy. “Fluttershy, please be sure you are doing what will make you happy. I want so much for you to be happy.”

“I am,” Fluttershy said. “I think.”

Rarity nodded. “All right, then. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Of course.”

Rarity flashed her a tight smile and then went out and closed the door behind her.

Fluttershy went back to her couch and slumped down and pressed her face into the cushions. It was nearly time. She whispered into the fabric, her breath hot and humid on her face, “Sapphire, Sapphire, Sapphire.”