A Blaze of Glory

Fluttershy hummed to herself as she dusted the small room she shared with Rainbow Dash. The prodigy had been forced to call in favors, and even beg one pony, but they had done it. Now they were living together. The room wasn’t any bigger than the one she had shared before, but it seemed like there was so much more room in the small space now.

Love did funny things, like make something as small as dusting while her friend was away seem like the happiest moment of her life. There had been more and more of those moments recently. And every single time, Fluttershy would wonder how she could possibly be happier. Then looking back, she would wonder how she could have felt so little. The small feather duster, composed of her own shed feathers as a matter of fact. The soft yellow color of the duster was only slightly marred by the thin layer of dust it had collected, all that had landed since yesterday.

The door to the room next to theirs slammed, and Fluttershy could faintly hear giggles wafting out through the cracks in the wall. She wasn’t the only one who was finally happy in the school, even if she still was the worst flier in the history of Flight School. That thought was a sobering one, and Fluttershy’s smile waned in only a moment. Its place was taken by a distant, slightly sad expression which so rarely touched the face of one so young.

Fluttershy shook herself, and the duster, smiling once more. It was almost time for Rainbow’s extra practice sessions to let out. Then they didn’t have anything else they needed to do for the night. They could spend it together, talking or not talking, but together.

The sounds from the next room grew louder, the giggling becoming the soft murmur of conversation. Stray words would filter into her room, but Fluttershy ignored them. They were minding their business, and she could mind hers. Besides, she needed to go and get dinner.

That was one of the odder customs of Flight School. All food was served in the kitchen, but they had numerous drop off points for the cleaned plates. And there was nowhere to eat near the cafeteria, no inside the room save for a few small tables.

Fluttershy didn’t have any chores to complete today, nor the entire week. Next week though, she was working in the kitchen, one of the ponies preparing the masses of food consumed daily. Rainbow however, by force of personality, charm, or blackmail, was never queued up for chores. When Fluttershy cooked, Rainbow just lingered in the kitchen, being spoiled by Fluttershy and Chef Golden Roast and all the other girls in the room. But then, Rainbow was fawned over by everything that could breathe in the school.

It was a compliment really, that all of the other mares, and not a few stallions, would follow her around, panting at her hooves. And that every night, she would come home to Fluttershy. To the pony she loved.

Today’s entree’s consisted of a large daisy sandwich, a small salad, and a stack of hay fries, tipped to her with a wink straight from the oil. Golden Roast was always doing things like that, being kind to her. He had given her extra, knowing she would be taking it to Rainbow. It was just the kind of-

“Hey, watch where you’re going Flutterfag. I don’t want your fillyfooling germs all over me.” Fluttershy lay sprawled on the floor, her tray of food now liberally splattered before her, and no little of it smeared into her fur. A hoof whipped out, jabbing her sharply in the ribs as she lay there. “I said, I don’t want you on me, bitch.”

Another jab in the ribs, this time slightly harder. The blow was enough to roll Fluttershy a short way along the floor, and she could see the cruel sneer of the colt who had pushed her to the ground. She could feel the cold slime of the mayonnaise from her sandwich smeared in her fur, matting is as she shook. She could feel the hot blush coloring her cheeks, and she curled her tail in, protecting her from the leers of the surrounding ponies. She saw the gaze of every stallion, and most mares, fixed on her, searching once more for a glimpse of something they should not see.

Her blush intensified, and in that moment, she wished for nothing more than to be able to sink through the floor, and vanish from sight. It would be nice to not listen to them jeer, to tease, to treat her like filth. All because she could love another, unlike them.

…What would Rainbow think right now?

“Aww, look, the little whore’s getting excited. What, you so much of a slut you’d get hard for anything that moves?”
Fluttershy’s wings were extended behind her, her face pale with the horrible thought of what Rainbow would think, seeing her lying on the floor like this. Every muscle locked, and she began to shake harder, her breaths coming out in sharp, short bursts.

“Lightning, dude, let up. She’s like, having a seizure or something.”

“Can it Ironwing, this slut just hasn’t done anything with somepony other than Rainbowdyke. I bet if you gave me an hour, I could fix that fillyfooling stuff. Couldn’t I, bitch?”

Another kick landed, and Fluttershy rolled across the floor again, this time further from her assailant. Her momentum petered to a stop, and the mare just lay there, quivering on the ground. Her body slowly curled, and her head tucked under her hooves.

“I said, couldn’t I?” The stallion growled, pulling his hoof back again. A clawed hand shot out, batting the pony aside with the careless strength only a predator could command. Gilda followed the pegasus’s flight, glaring until he slammed into the far wall. With a contemptuous flick of her head, she dismissed the crumpled form. The gryphon turned, walking over to Fluttershy.

Reaching down, she hauled Fluttershy up, setting the trembling mare on her feet. Then the great beaked head swung about, and the gathered crowd scattered. Gilda turned, and walked back over to the tray, gathering up the detritus and setting it on the metal dish. She slid the tray into one of the collectors, and then turned and walked to the still open cafeteria.

A few minutes later, when she returned, Gilda saw Fluttershy still standing there, though at least now she had ceased trembling. She simply stood where Gilda had set her, the food still in her fur, though now gravity was pulling it down. The tray the gryphon held was piled with even more food, all separated into three neat piles.

The wicked beak tilted, and the gryphon smiled at her friend. “Well, come on. You don’t want Dash to see you like that. You might make her laugh to death.” Fluttershy blushed again, and shifted both her hooves and wings in restless discomfort.

“Oh come on. I was joking. Now let’s go so you can rinse off.”

Fluttershy slowly drifted out of the haze of sleep, the memory of her dream fading with the darkness. It wasn’t as if the dream were anything new. It was like all the others, just a memory from the time she had been happy, when she had friends. She groaned as she stretched out her wings, yawning. Her wings ached from being pressed to the hard chair all night, but they extended fully behind her.

She lifted her head, the half-finished page glued to her cheek, the ink from when she had fallen asleep binding the two together. Lifting a hoof, she pressed down on the paper and moved her head. The book separated from her reluctantly, tearing out a few hairs as it did. Fluttershy winced, like she did every day she woke to the feeling.

She stood from her desk, flipping the book closed with a hoof, and closing the doors behind her, she swept out into main room of the small cottage. She looped a scarf about her neck as she passed the rack of them by the door. She opened the door on the weak summer sunlight, her hooves crunching through the thin layer of snow which had built up around her door.
It was a long slough through knee deep snow to reach the town proper, where the roads were at least cleared enough to make walking merely unpleasant, rather than torture. A thin layer of compacted snow lay on the cobblestones, muffling the normal clop of hooves on stone. Looking around her, Fluttershy could see a very few ponies outside, scurrying about their business and rushing indoors as quickly as they could.

Her gaze shifted about the small town square, a smile gracing her lips as she admired the beauty of the small town. Icicles hung from every roof, some stretching so far down that they were almost on the ground. In fact, two were on the ground, forming a pair of long pillars to the roof of the sweets shop nearby. Judging by their nearly uniform thickness though, they had to have been helped by a playful filly. The result was stunning though, the early light glistening and reflecting through the ice, drawing the eye to it.

Further down the road, there was a small shop, specializing in sofas and quills of all things, which had several snowponies frolicking outside, caught in frozen motion. Looking more closely, Fluttershy could see that these two had been coated in a thin layer of frost. The coat was just enough that the snowponies would retain their shape, and glisten very slightly in the light. Again, it was cleverly done. Fluttershy expected the same hooves to be responsible for both the statuary and the ornamentation all throughout the square, from the crude blocks of ice stacked into a hut, to the elegant, intricate spiraling curves of an ice statue twice her size.

She paced forward, her hooves crunching along the path as she slowly walked down the road. Her destination, the dilapidated library just off of the town square, came into sight as she turned the corner. The old building, still more tree than anything else, had been empty for years, ever since their librarian had moved to Trottingham. Now, Fluttershy was the only one who even bothered to visit the building, the rest of the town afraid of the ceiling collapsing on them. Of course, they apparently forgot that the building was built out of a living tree.

Just like Fluttershy’s cottage, the library was alive. Just like the books inside, the tree was always moving, always changing. It grew through the years, and it was as solidly designed as any of the surroundings, and even years later it was still solid and sturdy. Of course, the pile of snow which had fallen through the cracked ceiling didn’t exactly inspire confidence, but that was only because the trunk it was built around had expanded.

The books within the building were still in perfect condition, courtesy both of the powerful preservation spells laid on them, and the careful attention of the veterinary author. Fluttershy stepped inside the building, and held the door open for a moment. Wind, snow, and most importantly light blew in through the momentary opening, then the door shut behind her. Reaching out with a hoof trained by long practice, Fluttershy flicked on the small candle by the door.

The library was full of oddments like that, magical do-dads which Fluttershy could only puzzle over. The candle was enchanted, and waving a hoof before it would send it into flickering light. After a while, the large block of wax would melt enough that the candle flame was doused, but it could be lit again once it had cooled.

She leaned in, touching the small flame to the wood stacked neatly in the fireplace, and after a few moments, a blaze crackled with merry abandon in the grate. Now with light, and the beginnings of heat, Fluttershy set to work.

It was a lot of work, cleaning the Library. The heavy enchantments kept the books from being damaged, but they did less than nothing for the rest of the building. In fact, the areas near the bookshelves were particularly filthy, the dust and grim which would have landed on them instead shunted aside by the magical spell.

Fluttershy grabbed a rag from the bin she had set up, and set to with a will. And several hours later, numerous rags, and countless thoughts later, she was done. The library almost gleamed in the firelight, every inch of the building spotless, save for the mountainous pile of soiled cloth beside her. Fluttershy sat down, reclining on the sofa by the fire, stretching herself with a contented smile on her face.

It was worth it, every time she spent the day cleaning the library, it gave her the oddest sense of fulfillment. It was as if she were back in Flight School, cleaning her room. Their room. The smile dimmed, fading into a mask of neutrality.
This was a place that Rainbow would never step into. Maybe that was why she loved it so much. It was another shield from her past. Just another way to hide.

Dash sighed, the gusty exhalation ruffling the fur pressed close to her nose. Her hooves were draped over Spitfire, the other Wonderbolt lying on the bed in a lazy, attractive sprawl. Dash’s head rested on the yellow chest of the mare beneath her, and Spitfire snorted in amusement at whatever she was reading.

“Come on, how much longer do we have to be here? Can’t we, you know, do something?”

“Quiet little mouse. You lost the bet, so today you’re mine. And I want a blanket while I read.”
Dash sighed, and dropped her head with a soft thump onto Spitfire’s chest. Her lover had insisted that they bet on the outcome of a race of all things. Seriously, ponies bet on them, not the other way around. Figures Spitfire had blackmailed Fleetfoot into losing. That was cheap.

“I said, a blanket.”

Dash opened her eyes, and saw that Spitfire had shifted. Her tail was flicked off to the side, the flaming colors spread out on the sheets like strands of silk. She had wriggled a little further beneath Dash, and had spread her legs.
“Blankets go lengthwise, little mouse.”

The magenta eyes stared at her for a moment, annoyance written plain on the cyan face. Then Rainbow shifted, rolling about until her chest was wedged firmly between the yellow hips. She stared at her lover over the expanse of yellow fur, while the legs tightened. Spitfire latched on to Rainbow and began to slide along, rubbing against the soft fur of her marefriend.

“Oh, so this is what you do to blankets? I guess that explained why your towels are always so… wet.”
Rainbow looked away, determined not to let the Captain of the Wonderbolts see how much she was enjoying this.
“You love it, don’t you? These don’t lie.”

Spitfire leaned forward, curling herself until her breath gusted across the rainbow mane, her lovers head resting on her belly. She reached out, and drew a hoof feather light against Rainbow’s wings, drawing a gasp from her dominant partner.
Jolts of sensation traveled from each feather, racing through her body and straight to her brain.

Rainbow moaned as Spitfire stroked along her wing again, pressing down on the other mare, rubbing her face into the belly fur. “Oh, does my little mouse like that? What about this?”

When Rainbow woke, she found that they had rolled onto their sides, and now lay with their hooves entwined, Rainbow’s head resting on the yellow neck. She stirred, opening her eyes to the light of dusk filtering through the window. Yawning, she stood, careful not to wake her marefriend.

It was a beautiful night. What better time to go flying? Besides, Gilda lived in Ponyville didn’t she? It had been too long since the pegasus had visited her friend.