It's What I Do

by Echo 27

Rating: everyone
Tags: Flower Ponies, Bon-Bon, Derpy Hooves, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad, Roseluck
Length: 1829

Roseluck tends her flowers. No matter what comes, no matter what others think or believe, that is her purpose. It's what she does.

Roseluck tends her flowers. No matter what comes, no matter what others think or believe, that is her purpose. It's what she does.

Published 2015-03-23 11:30:03 UTC
Last updated 2015-03-23 11:30:03 UTC

It's What I Do

The garden itself was a thing of beauty, splendidly simple in its dual shades of green and crimson. The roses twisted and snaked their way around the pickets in a natural, albeit slightly trimmed, manner. Each individual bud was stunning in its elegance, beautifully groomed and glistening like a drop of blood. They spoke of the tender care and love given to them by their caretaker, the continual work and dedication evident in their resplendent growth. They spoke of great beauty to many who came by and admired their creator’s craft. Others saw past the buds and traveled down the stems, seeking out the many thorns that grow from the flower’s epidermis. To those that sought the thorns, the rose spoke of the pain that arose out of desiring beauty.

To their caretaker, Roseluck, her roses spoke of both. She refused to hear a word against them, not a single word spoken by any of her closest friends and confidants. She knew these roses better than anyone could know them, or ever hope to know. She loved for them, cared for them with all the tenderness she possessed, and watched in joy as they grew. Of course, there were the times when they would wither and die, but Roseluck would gently take its seeds, to watch the very same rose rise once more. She knew these roses.

The morning brought a gentle sunrise, slightly blurred by the early morning mist. Much of Ponyville had not yet begun to stir, at peace in their sleep as Roseluck quietly slipped out of her cottage, watering can set in her mouth.

She surveyed the quiet scenery that comprised her home; mist snaked its way past town hall, disturbed slightly as Daisy pushed open her doors and made her way to her own gardens. Hearing a soft creak somewhere behind her, Roseluck could tell Lily had done just the same. It was their ritual- united in purpose and goal, but separate in action.

Roseluck scanned the sky, finding a dull-gray wall of clouds approaching from the nearby mountains. She frowned for a moment before returning to earth and heading to her gardens. The weather pony that resided in Ponyville was a notoriously heavy sleeper, often leaving cloud-clearing duties to the very last minute. Roseluck had worried early on that she would forget her duty to the town and sleep the day away, but now she knew better; Rainbow Dash may not be the timeliest of ponies, but she would always come through. She hadn’t failed once in all these years.

Roseluck found herself standing before her gardens, gently setting down the watering can as she examined each individual flower. It was a tedious routine, even boring herself on occasion, but one she never dared relinquish. It was her honor to care for these roses as she did. It would be a disservice to do otherwise.

Her gentle eyes fixated on a tall, gangly rose that continually grew apart from the rest of its grove, the bud veering westward at a slight bent. The poor thing, despite all her attempts at caring for it, was turning brown and withering. Other ponies had often told her to pick out and discard the weaker flowers, but she didn’t dare, just as Lily and Daisy didn’t. It was her garden, in all that it was. It was beautiful to her, and that was what truly mattered. She smiled down at the weak, wayward flower before picking up her watering can and giving it a good, healthy dose of water before turning to the rest of her roses. She had a long ways to go, and the morning had only just begun.

The morning sun that had been clouded by mist was now showing in full force, unhindered by any sort of cover; Rainbow Dash had done her job well. The town of Ponyville was active again, the various citizenry shuffling about to their various duties. Roseluck, however, had been fairly immobile. Or, at the very least, had not moved very far. Occasionally going back and forth to refill her watering can, but still finding herself back where she belonged: alongside her roses.

The morning’s duties of tending to her roses had come to an end, finishing her duties by caring for a particularly beautiful rose that had grown exceptionally tall. It was one of her favorites in her entire garden, for more reason than one. The garden, now carefully nurtured, was shimmering in health.

Of course, supplies would be needed to ensure the continual growth of her precious work. For that, she’d have to finally venture out of the confines of her property and over to the nursery at the edge of town. She hoped there was still plenty of fertilizer left.

Her short trip through town was typically a simple one. She was not normally accosted by any of her fellow townsponies, though she had been a resident here for several years. Perhaps through the few friends she had made, or perhaps mere rumor, her story had filtered through the walls and into the ears of the ponyfolk who dwelled here. They had not deemed her to be unfriendly or unwelcome, but something of a social pariah. Few knew truly what to make of her and her duties.

When Roseluck had made her way to the small little nursery, she found the owner, Green Peace, tending to an undersized spruce as if it were a young filly. Roseluck could hear her speaking softly to it, calm and sweet and slow. It was a trait she had come to admire in the older mare, a dedication to her craft that stemmed from much of the same emotions that did Roseluck’s.

Green Peace rose to her hooves as she heard Roseluck approach, a trace of a smile flashing across her features. She gave the younger mare a knowing nod of her head and a wink, heading off to the back of the nursery to grab the required supplies. Not once had the order changed, in all the years Roseluck had lived in Ponyville.

Green Peace reappeared with the bags of fertilizer Roseluck needed, and the two florists performed the usual trade; forty bits for three bags of fertilizer. With a nod of thanks to the older gardener, Roseluck hoisted the bags across her back and began the walk home, hoping to make it back before Celestia’s sun roasted her. She was a gardener, that was true, but sweat was not one of her favorite activities. Dirt and grime washed off far more easily than did that fetid stink.

As Roseluck passed through town square, she felt the gaze of another pony lock upon her, soon followed by a jeering taunt. She sighed as she turned to find –to no surprise- Bon-Bon watching her, a snide grin plastered across her face. Ponyville’s resident bully had consistently tormented Roseluck for quite some time now, providing a daily stream of heckles whenever the two crossed paths. Today’s diatribe was filled with the usual garbage- telling her to shut up and deal with it, to stop messing around with something as pointless as flowers, congratulations on being alone, and on it went. It was rather hateful for being such a pleasant day.

As Bon-Bon’s jibes laced the warm summer air, Roseluck simply kept on walking, more than used to the cruel tirade. Early on she had reacted in anger, or more often, in tears. Now, after enduring it for so long, she merely took it in stride. It was background noise to her.

A quick flash of bright emerald green brushed past her, and Roseluck turned to see Lyra heading towards Bon-Bon, pausing to give the gardener an apologetic smile before heading to tell off her Earth Pony friend. Roseluck smiled and continued on. She and Lyra had been friends for a while now, though Roseluck was still mystified as to why Heartstrings spent time with such a tormenter as Bon-Bon. The clash of personalities was extreme.

Roseluck returned home and continued to tend to her garden of roses, only stopping to head inside for a quick wash and a healthy lunch. When she had finished, she returned back to her work, seeking out a small rose that had failed to produce seeds last season. The poor thing seemed to lack confidence, and Roseluck was doing her best to encourage it. All it would take was time and tender love that was she happy to provide.

A sniffling sound flowed through her ears and Roseluck paused to peer above the sea of green and red. Walking past her home was Derpy, in full mailmare attire, appearing thoroughly dejected about something. Even as she watched, a fat tear rolled down the pegasus’ cheek and splashed onto the cobblestone street.

Roseluck’s heart twisted inside of her at the sight. She knew Derpy well, the two being old friends from earlier days in Baltimare. The two were the few in all of Ponyville who could truly open up to one another- after all, their stories were fairly similar. For Roseluck, it didn’t take much thought to know why she cried.

Roseluck called out to the crossed-eyed mare, who stopped and turned to gaze blearily at the Earth pony.

Gently picking it with her teeth and tugging at the roots, Roseluck pulled out a rose from the ground, tossing it to Derpy. As the mailmare caught it, Roseluck could tell she was taking a moment to examine the specimen with her blurred vision. The continuous symmetry of the petals, the deep green of the stem, and the thorns that lay across its sides. She understood the meaning behind the roses.

Derpy gave a watery smile and waved gently at Roseluck, who smiled and waved in return. She watched as the pegasus’ wings rose and fell, hoisting her body off the ground and into the air.

As Derpy flew back to the comforts of her home, Roseluck could see a new energy in her body that had not been there just a moment before. With a smile meant only for herself, Roseluck turned back to her roses and examined them with pride. She truly loved her flowers, her beautiful roses. The blood-red of the petals, the stems, and even the thorns. In so many ways, they told her story, just as they told the stories of so many others. Beauty and pain intertwined.

And just like that, Roseluck decided to call it a day. A comfortable bath awaited her now, along with perhaps a nice book to read. Her day’s duties were done. After all, they weren't just her roses.

Author's Note

A simple one-shot idea I came up with randomly. I've been wanting to write a story involving Roseluck for a while now, and I hope this isn't my last one. She fascinates me for some reason I can't fathom yet.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy, dear reader.