À partir de Bourgeons à Fleurs

Chapters

Le Concept
Une Question
La Conception
Statique
Création
Adapté pour le Succès
Quelques Réponses
L’amour est en Fleurir
Racines Coupées

Le Concept

The sun lulled lazily low in the skies above Manehattan, marking the closing chapters of an artificially long day grown suddenly old. In being full occupied time’s passage had been well disguised, slipping by stealthily, until now its solar keeper grew weary, descending towards its bed below the horizon and making all shadows stretch as a harbinger of approaching night. Far below this fiery disc meanwhile, the city’s streets were caught between winding down and speeding up, its inhabitants slowed by visible fatigue written across their features, whilst at the same time being frantic to conclude their business and set off for home. While it was certainly true that the metropolis never slept, it nevertheless occasionally felt the need to pause, to stop and yawn or stretch, in briefly snatched respite on the precipices of both dawn and dusk. Morning brought with it work whereas evening brought revelry, but rather than therefore making it an unrelenting living Tartarus as some saw it, for those within its confines the place was more alive than any other.

Into one of the innumerable gradually quietening streets, rays of ageing sunlight spilled, pouring across its ever less traffic laden road and pony filled pavements. They continued onward through the panes of a minor boutique’s broad front windows, the ground floor establishment made to seem even smaller by the towering height of its surroundings. Within, the shop owner trotted happily through the rivers of fading daylight, coming to rest at a chair behind its counter into which the pale brown earth mare collapsed. Coco Pommel sat surveying her domain and hoofiwork, both sights subjects of her quiet satisfaction. A crowd of mannequins acted as her audience, with one more prominent set on a podium at their centre dressed in a newly finished scarlet expanse of pleats and ribbons. Beyond these were the tools of her trade, a sewing machine off to one side along with design tables and up high on the walls racks of cloth and thread. It was small yes, if not quaint even (particularly when compared to the exuberance of some of its rivals), nonetheless though it was hers, or more rightly theirs.

Coco stretched, sighing contentedly, as the day began to catch up with her, just as she could see it was catching up with the world beyond the windows. Orders had slowed down slightly since the immediate chaos of opening, but still they kept coming in a steady stream, leaving her no want of business and comfortably busy. Only time would tell if the venture would be a success, as far as she was concerned however she had already triumphed in so many ways. For now though her thoughts drifted homeward, like those of so many others outside, and to the beautiful mare which awaited her there.

Can you actually ask her?

So much had changed in what was in the grand scheme of things a very short period of time and so far all had been for the better, but could she bring herself to change one thing more?

An audible commotion from the street drew away her attentions, catching and freezing her in the midst of rising to her hooves. Pre-empting further investigation the front door swung inward and through it (to Coco’s considerable shock) strode the Princess of the Night, dark navy fur bristling against the clamour of voices which pursued her in before they were quickly shut out. ‘Good afternoon’ Luna began, azure eyes quickly seeking out the earth mare. ‘Do you mind if I close the blinds’ she continued without skipping a beat, gesturing towards the panes and the visibly excited crowd being held at bay by a cordon of the Lunar Guard on their other side, ‘otherwise they might become an annoyance.’

The Princess, I repeat: the Princess, just asked you a question. Speak!

‘O-of course your majesty, feel free’ Coco stammered, caught majorly off guard and struggling as she attempted (not entirely successfully) to make a bow while still in her seat.

‘Thank you.’ The windows’ slatted blinds all came down as one, pulled by a silvery aura, and then Luna stepped further into the shop proper beyond the threshold, taking in the room’s contents.

More words would be good!

‘So, how can I help you your highness?’ the designer managed, re-finding her voice in routine along with her hoofing in spite of feeling increasingly on show as her work went under the scrutiny of royalty.

‘Please, just Luna is fine’ the princess replied, turning from the mannequins to the other shorter mare before answering: ‘I have need of some new formal wear in preparation for the gala season.’

‘Do you have anything in particular in mind?’ Coco remained largely on autopilot in her speech, still perpetually in shock, kept there as she now stood before the imposing taller figure despite the alicorn’s smiling straight-forwardness.

‘Annoyingly no, apart from it being something different, and from what little I’ve seen and heard you’re the one to go to for that. Oh, except the one stipulation of no dresses, my wardrobe as it stands is awash with the damned things. I want something formal-ish, but still comfortable if that’s possible.’

‘Okay, well if you step this way please, I’ll do some preliminary sketches to get your form and then we’ll take it from there.’ The pair moved further into the shop, Luna going to standing still as a model whilst the designer went to her desk, drawing out pencils and paper with the further reassurance: ‘this shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes.’ The sketching implement began to dance across the sheet, leaving grey lines in its wake, making short work of mirroring the contours of its subject on its canvas. Moments passed quickly and quietly until a new chorus from beyond broke the silence of the space.

‘You’d think that everypony would be over my return by now’ Luna sighed with a frustrated glance in the sound’s direction, ‘but it seems unlike Tia I’m destined to always be an other and draw a crowd.’

Stick to sketching and small talk. No prying questions.

‘If you’ll pardon me princess…’ Coco began, in the midst of switching to using an eraser, having jumped at the suddenness of the outer noise.

‘Please, just Luna really is fine.’

Don’t buck this up.

‘Apologies, but it must be difficult for you having been away for so long’ she finished with a questioning inflection, intrigued but simultaneously regretting her words, sure she had overstepped the mark.

You bucked it up!

‘At first maybe’ Luna considered, evidently more than willing if not wanting to chat, ‘but ultimately this new Equestria is much the same as the one I left believe it or not, linguistic etiquette notwithstanding.’ She smiled to herself briefly in recollection before her face turned to frowning. ‘No, the only hard part has been them’ she said, pointing to the unseen figures beyond the blinds, ‘my guards I mean. It’s strange having them around bearing in mind their now distant ancestors were all close friends. They’re all new faces where familiar ones used to be, but still carry some of the features of those I knew which came before.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry or strike a sore spot.’

‘No no, it’s actually kind of nice’ the princess interjected, ‘most tend to focus their questions more towards my departure than my return. Sometimes it feels like I’ve lost or missed an awful lot in my absence, but then again that’s the curse of alicornhood as they say.’

‘What’s that?’

‘To be immortal in a mortal world. Now however I should really apologise. I’m well aware that I’m unloading on you, it’s just been rather a long day’ Luna sighed again, Coco only able to reply with an accepting shake of her head with her pencil gripped in her maw. ‘Thank you, you’re very kind. In an attempt to be less depressing though, I should stress that the trick is to always seize the day. Whether you’ve infinity or not, you should never let momentum slip ‘cause it has its own unique brilliance. Again sorry, I reckon I still sound a bit preachy.’

Before Coco could formulate a reply the doorway came open once more, this time permitting one of the princess’ navy plumed and armour clad retainers entrance. The solidly built stallion paused to bow in his approach, almost alien membranous wings tucked neatly at his sides, and then whispered his report to his sovereign’s ear, receiving a nod and smile in return.

‘I’m afraid I must be off’ Luna concluded briskly, ‘have you got enough to work with?’

‘Erm yeah, pretty much.’

‘Excellent! How long should it take for you to come up with some designs then?’

‘A couple of days to play around with ideas, then we can finalise the overall concept, if that’s prompt enough?’

‘Again excellent! I’ll see you in a couple of days then, oh and thanks both for your speed and your listening.’ With that as quickly as she had appeared the Princess of the Night was gone, the windows' veils shuttering upward as she departed to give a view of her carriage (until then masked by the bodies of her subjects) in its immediate take off.

‘Well buck.’ Coco took in a deep breath, taking stock of all that had just happened, whilst feeling distinctly like she had been caught in a storm as it swept through her shop. For one thing Princess Luna, the Princess Luna, had been in her little boutique and not only that but the alicorn had come specifically to her for an outfit. These two points alone were hard enough in of themselves to handle, let alone when they were combined with the nature of their meeting, Luna’s manner not at all fitting with either her title or image as dark Princess of the Night. The earth mare’s azure eyes fell to the basic form she had drawn in front of her, surprised to find a similarity in its silhouette to another so recently on her mind.

Speaking of whom.

A fresh wave of drained tiredness told her that it was definitely time she headed home, however even as she set herself to purpose she was interrupted a final time as the door swung wide and a hoard of ponies came buzzing in.

Author's Note

Title: The Concept (French)

Une Question

High above the streets of Manehattan, into which the shadow of evening was gradually creeping (along with some of the night’s far less subtle denizens), in a smooth tower of glass and stone surrounded by the hoardings of balconies, a single apartment quietly shone with pale pink lights. The world within, past a wall of clear sliding panels, was a mirror to the city without, being simple, minimalist and open in design and yet filled with the chaos of life. From the kitchen section of this single spacious room (excluding the bathroom set separate) came the most prominent of these rose tinged glows, where a plethora of vegetables floated to a chopping board through the air. Whilst a similarly drifting wok came to rest on the stove to heat up, a knife went to work cutting through the board’s new residence in preparation. Elsewhere meanwhile in the central lowered nexus of the space (a seating area bisecting it in two to divide the bedroom from the kitchenette) the rest of the lights played about amongst a circle of sofas, on one of which a slender unicorn lounged, her coat a match for the home’s modernist whiteness.

Fleur De Lis wore a visage set as a blank marble piece of carefree focus, seemingly heedless of the myriad of actions her magic was at once preforming. As well as cooking, she was also making an attempt to tidy some of the mess of clothes and paper which had been allowed to accumulate on every available surface and at the same time was experimenting with the mass of chains, fixings and charms set before her on the newly cleared coffee table. A set of pliers moved to close a final link around an earring’s fishhook, completing a pair of cascades of silver stars. Jewellery making was ultimately very new to her (alongside a variety of other things in her life at that moment) and her own slight efforts were still a long way from mastery, but if Coco could do it minus magic she was determined to conquer the skill, having embarked on a metal working course to that effect. The boutique was after all jointly hers and she planned to carve out her own niche within it, thus far enjoying as much as her partner the newfound freedom for creation, her own thoughts and designs as much as Coco’s adorning the once plain walls of the apartment.

A low *click* of key in lock sounded from the front door, followed by the call of a soft voice as its owner entered. ‘Hey, sorry I’m so late.’

The unicorn stayed in place, maintaining the bubble of energy about her horn and the various things to which it was linked, only moving to brush the pink and white striped strands of her mane to one side as her gaze went to her arriving marefriend.

‘Sorry, I know it was my night to cook but…’

An obviously flustered (although somehow able to be infinitely cute with it) earth mare came to Fleur, who proceeded to silence her apologising with a kiss, whilst her magic sloshed oil into the waiting wok where it immediately started sizzling. ‘It’s all cool, my class ended early anyway. Now go hit the shower, and by the time you’re out food’ll be done.’

Coco’s lips made their reply without need of words, as she carelessly let her saddlebags slip to the floor, eyes closed contentedly, before catching her breath and skipping away to the bathroom with a final glance back.

Fleur meanwhile watched her disappear, having to catch herself and the bowel of vegetables as the tempting thought of following created a more than sizeable distraction. This was not helped in that the mare in question noticed the slip up, adding a knowing wink as she closed the door behind her.

An amalgam of intense scents, sweet soy, rich herbs and the underlying saltiness of peanuts, filled Coco’s nostrils as she stepped out through a haze of steam into the dry cooked warmth of the apartment. Until then hunger had by no means been the foremost thought on her mind, but this changed instantly once within the savoury clouds of deliciousness, setting her mouth to watering after only a couple of inhales. The source and its creator were however nowhere in sight, leaving her mildly confused as she proceeded further into the space.

When are you going to ask her?

‘Eeep!’ Surprised she let out a small squeak as she suddenly felt herself enwrapped by a pink aura and, being levitated just off the ground, floating weightless out through one of the room’s sliding windows which she had failed to notice was open. Now outside she was met by the grinning face of the elusive chef. Fleur herself was sprawled on her side across one of the balcony’s benches, the furniture being newly covered in cushions, beneath a blanket. ‘Put me down!’ The white unicorn did not immediately comply to her demand, instead opening the folds of the covers and pulling her partner in close, laying the other mare at her side within them. ‘You know I hate it when you do that’ Coco pouted, any displeasure purely for show, disappearing as she felt the dual embrace of both the blanket and a set of hooves at her back, her head coming to rest against a shared pillow.

‘True, but that doesn’t make your reaction any less adorable’ Fleur giggled, nuzzling into her partner’s mane. Foregoing any other utensils a single fork plunged into the steaming wok, which had materialised from somewhere behind the bench. The cutlery moved dextrously, spearing a selection of its contents and then spinning a scarf of noodles around its prongs, moving on to offer the choice mouthful to Coco. ‘So, how was your day?’ she enquired, drawing her own spiral from the pan in turn.

‘Pretty usual till the end. I finished a couple of orders, set to work prepping the show pieces we talked about, and then Princess Luna walked in.’

‘What?!’ the unicorn coughed, almost choking on her forkful.

‘Yep’ Coco confirmed, ‘she pretty much just strode in off the street and commissioned some formal wear, with more or less free reign as to its design.’

‘Well buck!’

‘My reaction exactly.’

‘So what’s your plan; you thinking long train or short?’

‘Ah, that’s the one condition: no dresses’ Coco corrected through another proffered mouthful.

‘Cool’ Fleur shrugged, ‘it’ll be nice to see one of the princesses in something other than a dress for a change. Plus I guess that means you get to indulge your thing for mares in suits’ she added with a nudge.

The designer simply raised an eyebrow against the prod, rising above as she returned: ‘No, just a suit doesn’t seem right you know. I’ll have to give it some thought.’

‘What’s she like then?’

‘Ultimately we only met very briefly.’ Coco paused for a moment in consideration. ‘Normal I guess, nothing like the regal image, but weirdly open for what you might expect. It was kind of like… like she wanted to consciously be an open book and to be read, if that makes any sense.’ She turned to frowning; it was hard to describe. What had they actually talked about? If she was honest Luna had been the one to do most of the talking, whereas she had been kind of silenced and put on autopilot by the mere presence of royalty. In spite of this though it felt like a lot had been said, from which the words ‘momentum’ and ‘seize the day’ stood prominent, both begging a tacit question of her.

What’s stopping you?

And with that her mind was made up. ‘Erm… Fleur, I want to ask you something and it’s pretty major, actually really major’ Coco struggled, stumbling over the few words despite their simplicity, almost as if her voice was procrastinating against her speech’s end.

‘Ask away.’

‘And I really hope you’ll say yes, but… well erm… what I’m trying to say is…’

‘Yes.’

‘Pardon?’ the earth mare stumbled again as she was interrupted.

‘Yes’ Fleur repeated simply. ‘I’ve been proposed to before you know, although all in all this is the nicest for being without all the emotional blackmail of the bended knee and ceremony crap, and if you’re really sure my answer is a definite yes.’

A broad smile broke across Coco’s features, an intense pressure released from within her to set her afloat again as her heart jumped for joy. Her body meanwhile could do nothing but snuggle deeper into the embrace of the taller mare behind her, enjoying the feeling of being entirely surrounded in their cocoon. ‘So what happens now?’ she asked as an unsure after thought.

‘Dunno, I’ve never said yes before, but we’ll figure it out’ Fleur answered flippantly, content but internally in shocked elation as she held her partner tighter against her, whilst all around night finally fell, bringing with it the ethereal glow of its stars.

Author's Note

Title: A Question (French)

La Conception

For the first time in what had been another in a string of hectic days silence pervaded in the boutique, nigh constant chaos giving way to calm, even if this was merely the tense prelude for an inevitable storm. Coco’s mind seemed to have settled itself on this conclusion, for in spite of gaining some degree of peace (broken only by the faint scratching of graphite against paper) internally she was set on a knife edge by a familiar rush. Today was the day, and as the sun was now well set on its descent the time of judgement within it was fast approaching. Every so often her eyes made furtive glances to the door, each time expecting to witness the arrival of a royal carriage and its accompanying contingent of Lunar Guard. For now however it would not come, leaving her only the pressurised vacuum of anticipation, from which she sought distraction.

It’s a massive risk you know, I mean what if you’re putting words into her mouth with what it says?

For a while this had been achieved, she was after all not in any need of occupation, as for now her life was to be a balancing act. On the one hoof of course there was the princess’ commission, its sketched plan one half of the pair of designs set down in front of her. With it this had brought a surge in orders from others in emulation, following in royalty’s wake. Really she should have been happy about this, for who in their right mind could turn up their nose at increased business, but her feelings remained mixed, wanting what she created to be appreciated as opposed to being just objects of passing fads. On the other hoof meanwhile (in part being distracted from by the former, whilst at the same time being in all honesty not at all thought out) was the wedding, far off and yet still central in her mind. The second drawing before her was therefore Fleur, or rather a poor substitute in her exacting eye, for whom she was as yet struggling to produce clothing for, stumbling at the hurdle of personalisation.

‘Let’s bow to tradition just a little bit, so I’ll play the groom and you can have me in a suit.’

In near perfect mimicry of a few days previous, a chorus of voices from outside yanked on the chain of her consciousness to focus it elsewhere, specifically on the long awaited arrival making her appearance. Again the princess slipped inside, heaving closed the portal perhaps a little quicker this time along with the windows’ blinds. ‘Hey’ Luna greeted.

‘Hey’ Coco matched in reply, not truly at ease with the generality rather than regality of the Princess of the Night’s mannerisms. ‘Bad day?’

‘Just long. You’ve no idea how boring court is, it almost makes me thankful for predominately nocturnal duties. Anyway, I’ve been looking forward to seeing what you’ve come up with, it’s provided a pretty nice distraction’ she smiled warmly, stepping up to the design table.

No pressure!

‘Okay’ Coco began, spinning a paper design round to face perusal whilst a forehoof moved to direct the reviewer, pointing out its elements. ‘As you wanted formal wear without dresses my immediate thought was some form of suit, but in turn this seemed a tad ordinary or expected. Therefore I moved on to the idea of uniform, with the aim being to channel a parade or dress military style. To this end I settled on a double-breasted officer’s jacket in a light navy, to create a tonal link between your coat and eyes, this acting as a base for accoutrements in silver to add highlights.’ She paused to consider her audience, only to be struck with dismay by an unsure frown.

Buck, she doesn’t like it! Buck buck buck!

‘Erm…’ the designer tried to continue, fighting against rising internal doubt. ‘For these I added epaulettes of a refined box design, as opposed to the more traditional tasselled variety, and swirled braiding across the front. Alternatively of course these could be substituted with the fringed form with a plain front to the tunic, and then a sash creating a bisecting stripe, probably with additional embroidery. Overall this would aim to create a statement piece, made strong by not being overstated, but with intricacy in its details, which I have further ideas for but it depends on what you think so far.’

Buck buck buck!

‘I like it’ Luna began, ‘quite a lot actually, don’t doubt that, and it fulfils all I wanted. My area of trepidation however is with its roots, in that the last time that I wore military regalia I… wasn’t myself and I’m rather cautious of further stoking persistent opinions there are of me.’

‘I understand that’ Coco nodded, ‘thoughts of how it would be interpreted did cross my mind, but if you’ll let me explain a bit more maybe I can show where I’m coming from.’ A single nod answered her. ‘The point with any outfit is that it speaks, what it says however is more the choice of its wearer than its fabric or even its design. It’s not a suit of armour, so its statement is bold but not aggressive, whilst at the same time it is a blend of old and new styling, with an emphasis on the modern to channel progression, movement and momentum. Finally you’re right it does cause a degree of looking back, but my aim in that was to go back further than your absence. In extra additions I’d like to bring in elements from your Guard’s uniform as a conscious nod to those close, both past and present, as a complement or salute and a mark of respect and affections.’ She let herself come to a stop, taking in a held breath to await the verdict.

‘Wow’ Luna muttered after a pause, without a hint of mockery in her monosyllabic expression, rather a degree of honest awe. ‘I gave you a couple of days to come up with an outfit, no small feat in of itself, and it would seem that you’ve come up with so much more. I’m truly touched, thank you.’

And breath out.

‘So is that a yes?’

‘It’s a definite yes to both’ the princess affirmed.

‘Both?’

‘Yes, if it’s possible I’d like both the less and more traditional please’ Luna clarified to the silent jubilation of her host. ‘So, what parts of the Guard’s uniform would you like to put into it?’

‘Well, I’d like to take a closer look at it if I could and pick out parts from it.’

‘That I can arrange immediately.’ Luna’s horn became lit with its silvery aura, although it was unclear what her magic was up to. ‘One of my guards can act as your model for what remains of the afternoon, and if you require further reference just ask and I’ll have a suit dispatched to you. Oh and before you say it, it’s not too much trouble, she’ll appreciate the night off.’ Her corona of energy dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, the alicorn herself unmindful of it, as the doorway opened to admit a new figure. ‘Now, once again I’m sorry to be so brief, but I’m required elsewhere, so thank you once more.’

‘When do you want to meet to review the final design?’ the earth mare just managed to ask, Luna being a hard one to keep up with.

‘Not necessary I don’t think: I like your eye and I trust you, so I’ll meet the final ensembles as surprises.’ She smiled with further warmth in her departure, the faint gleam of deeper emotion playing at the back of her azure irises, taking a moment to say something more unheard to the one who had come to take her place before she vanished.

‘Silhouette.’

Coco was caught off guard by the single random word, her attention absorbed in part by the princess in her egression, but more in the meaning of her parting words. Reawakening she found a granite grey night pegasus in the midst of removing her armour’s helmet. Without the helm the cropped short spikes of a jet black mane, tips frosted stark white, broke free. Its strands fell to cover one in a pair of crimson eyes, coming to look at her through their feline pupils, the first of middle age’s wrinkles showing at their edges. ‘Pardon?’

‘My name, it’s Silhouette miss…?’ the soldier continued, her mareish tones revealing what her carapace covered form did not.

‘Coco, Coco Pommel, but Coco’s fine’ she answered, although distractedly, like there was something on the cusp of being a thought in the back of her mind.

‘Well I’m at your disposal, I must confess though that modelling is not my forte. So where do you want me?’

‘I just want to take a look at your uniform if that’s okay?’ Getting a simple affirmation (which could not help but be a little awkward), she walked a quick circuit of her new subject, coming back to the desk where she interspersed her additions with further upward glances.

It’s her voice, you’ve heard it before.

‘Weird question, but do I know you?’

‘Unless you’ve spent much time in Hollow Shades, or you’ve had an unfortunate run in with the law it’s probably unlikely.’

‘Cause if she is you should calm her down or else we’ll have to detain her.’

‘A bit more than few weeks ago, lower Manehattan, outside some club with punctuation marks in place of an actual name.’

‘Nope.’

‘You and I assume he must have been your partner were going to arrest a… to put it politely pretty drunk unicorn for disturbing the peace.’

‘No… actually wait a sec’ the night mare considered. ‘Yeah, you pretty much saved her ass as I remember it. I found out later that she was supposed to be vaguely famous. What was her name… something beginning with F?’

‘Fleur De Lys.’

‘Yeah that’s it. How’d that work out for you?’

‘Pretty well.’ Coco smiled to herself in memory. ‘We’re now joint owners in all this’ she gestured broadly. ‘I owe her quite a lot, and I suppose I should thank you too for not locking her up.’

‘And you met for the first time when she was drunk as a skunk?’

‘More or less.’

‘Well stranger things have happened, but I’m still surprised. Is that the mare in question?’ Silhouette pointed to the second sheet sharing the table beside Luna’s.

‘Yep’ Coco verified with an underlying possessive pride in even the image of her marefriend. ‘We recently got engaged, so I need to work on her wedding gear at some point.’ This last speech however gave her pause, finding it surreal even as she spoke it. The words seemed simple enough, almost harmless, but in meaning they still seemed to go beyond their slight reality. At the same time almost in the same breath she had confirmed for how short a time they had actually known each other. As she stood surrounded by their successes she had to wonder the why of it, for why had she pushed things further and where would this move them to? Too far maybe? What would change as a result? Was it just that harsh possessiveness which she had just felt that had spurred her onward?

‘I know that look.’

‘What?’

‘You look a lot like my husband, who in turn for the record was apparently a mirror image of myself, after he asked me’ the soldier stated knowingly.

‘You’re married?’

‘With a couple of kids’ Silhouette confirmed, pulling back the obstructing mass of her mane to reveal a ring set in the helix of her pointed ear with a smile, its constituent fangs at odds with its underlyingly tender words. ‘I know, I’ve been told I don’t look like the type. To return to my point though, you look as if you’re not quite sure what you’ve done.’

‘That obvious?’

‘Oh yeah. It’s like you’ve opened a box and you’re not quite sure what you’ve let out; am I right? You should take it from me though marriage isn’t a biggy; everypony just likes to make out like it is. It took me a while to realise, but it doesn’t change squat if you don’t want it to, and what it can just tends to add to things. I mean I never saw myself with a ring, or children for that matter, but the point is to roll instinctively with how you feel and stuff will work out, and I for one regret nothing.’

‘Thanks.’ Coco meant it, returning this fact with an appreciative look, slightly if not fully reassured.

‘Don’t mention it; it’s good to do something other than just stand here awkwardly. Feel free to quiz me further.’

They returned to silence, the newly strengthened designer turning back to her work with new confidence, paranoid guilt and insecurity almost put somewhat to rest.

Author's Note

Title: The Design (French)

Statique

Fleur huffed loudly, having no other course of resistance open to her in her predicament, feeling chained in place in her seat. Despite the regular movements of her world (heavy rhythmic sounds accompanying its occasional uncontrolled bouncing) still it felt stagnant, the stale air of the surrounding space doing nothing to help matters. She fumed silently against her incarceration, her gaze making an attempt at flight through the glass panes of her cell’s walls. On both sides the lightly undulating plains of southern Equestria stretched away from her prison, verdant green tones of its lush fields stained a dull grey by the ominous clouds of an overcast day above, promising nought more interesting than continued settled weather. Even the blur of motion in the surrounding picture was stunted, killing any sense of progress being achieved as each moment of limbo stretched into dead hours.

Buck this sideways with a broom handle!

The unicorn took an exasperated deep breath in an effort to quell her directionless rage, her magic moving to open the carriage’s slim excuse for a window at her side in an attempt to circulate fresher air to her lungs. Bored and fed up were both severe understatements as descriptors for her mood, she was far beyond the slight circumference of either adjective, her loathing of her situation bristling further than both of them. Fleur quite simply hated travelling, not for being in any way sedentary (far from it), but rather because no matter what any journey felt like a waste, made up of the interminable drudgery of lost time. There was only so much which could be used to occupy the recess of train travel and whatever was found would always be a second rate substitute for real activity. It was a set of leaden fetters, it was a nothingness, an incalculable void constantly getting in the way of life. It was Tartarus.

*Bing bing bong* ‘Next stop Ponyville Central. Thank you for travelling with us today.’

Bucking finally!

*Ding* A quaint metallic chime rang twice in quick succession, bidding Fleur a swift welcome. The sound was perfectly at home in the quiet rural town’s environs of the shop’s setting and yet also totally at odds with the palatial grandeur of the place itself, rising skyward as a mock carnivalesque spire above its surroundings. Crossing the threshold was like entering into an entirely different world, forsaking behind the land outside made crushingly sombre under the sky’s darkened covers, in favour of an inner rainbow of richly patterned fabric, accompanied by an equally striking perfumed scent.

‘Good morning and welcome to Carousel Boutique, how can I help you to…Fleur darling!’ a violet-maned unicorn exclaimed, breaking the flow of her business-like address, as she emerged from a back room.

‘Hey Rare’ Fleur returned with a smile, enjoying the degree of surprise cutting through the designer’s always constructed features, ‘it’s been a while.’ The two snowy unicorns came together in a warm hug. Although perhaps not the closest of friends, the pair had known each other for quite some time, making their meeting a reunion of sorts. Rarity was one of the select few whose Canterlottian mannerisms did not always get on her nerves (mostly). This was purely for the single fact that she knew their source, along with the rest of the predilections which the fashionista had for other elements of the imperial capital’s society, were nothing deeper than stylistic tastes.

‘Too long darling, simply too long. But you’re early too, most unlike you; I must look in such a frightful state.’

Please, for the love of Luna can we get beyond the ‘darling’ nonsense!

‘Don’t give me that crap; you know as well as I that you’re entirely incapable of anything less than gorgeous’ the taller unicorn complemented, making the other blush slightly through both direct bluntness and meaning.

‘You’re much too kind darling’ Rarity countered, shaking her head. ‘I’m a mess, simply a mess. I’ve been trying to fix the chaos wrought by Sweetie in my storeroom all morning and thus far have barely dented the surface’ she sighed. ‘Still I can’t hold anything against her for trying, after all she means well and her efforts are beginning to show some progress. Anyway enough about me dear, let’s talk about you; you’re a veritable diamond, truly beautiful.’

‘Thanks.’

‘And I hear on the grapevine you and little Coco…’

Little Coco!

‘…have continued to make quite the waves in Manehattan after your initial splash, with interest from the Princess of the Night herself no less. I must say that I’m more than a tad bit impressed, not to mention a tiny bit jealous too. You’ve got no idea how long I’ve been offering Princess Luna my services to no avail.’

‘Thanks’ Fleur repeated, suppressing a spike of aggravation sparked by a specific term of phrase. Yes Coco was relatively short, yes she was quiet, but for anypony to slip into patronisation for these features (which to her only endeared her marefriend further as the infinitely cute and at the same time amazing creature that she was) could be intolerable.

‘So anyway, what brings you to my humble shop today?’

‘A dress for a wedding’ the pink-maned unicorn answered simply, suppressing any further inner interjection.

‘Ooh excellent, whose are you going to?’ In the briefest moment before the coming response Rarity levitated her measuring tape to her side in preparation.

‘Mine’ Fleur answered bluntly, again enjoying her audience’s abrupt reaction, ‘and I should add that the dress isn’t for me, it’s for Coco.’

‘Oh my, so you two are…?’

‘Yep.’

‘You’re serious?’

‘Yes.’ The repeated affirmation was however this time far less confident, knocked slightly under the scrutiny combined with its disbelieving eyebrow.

‘Erm… congrats’ Rarity smiled, but with a brow still raised, ‘I wouldn’t have called that in a million years.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Well no offense meant, but you’ve never struck me as the marrying type, I mean I never saw you as settling down or stopping to play homemaker.’

Is that what I’m doing, or I’ve already been doing?

‘If you’ll forgive my frankness; you’ve always done your utmost not to get tied down to anything, not to mention your more than well-known wild side, both of which seem like the antithesis to your choice and your chosen. So yeah, you’ll have to forgive my general surprise.’

No, that’s not what this is, is it?

‘But anyway, I assume you’ve got her measurements and some ideas?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well then, shall we?’

The pair of alabaster unicorns walked together the few steps further into the shop’s confines. For one of them however the actual task at hoof was now beginning to have to vie for space against something akin to doubt in her mind. She had been so sure of what she wanted, still was, but…

What if you’re not?

What would change, what had changed, was she ready to make her choice and was she ready full stop? All these were foalish questions, until then unknown, their newly nagging voices silent, she even knew they were. Still, now they had started whispering they refused to be shut up, regardless of the guilt accompanying them.

Création

Déjà vu much?

‘Buck’ Coco sighed quietly, to nopony in particular beyond herself. Her tired head leant forwards to rest her muzzle on her forehooves, sat sunk at the centre of the lounge space’s least detritus covered of its trio of sofas. Before her several sheets lay settled across the squat surface of the coffee table, all depicting a single slender figure in a variety of poses, but also all markedly incomplete, lacking the outfit for which they stood waiting. Her mind was hatefully entirely correct in its appraisal: nothing about her frozen state being in any way new, she having been there many times previously, waiting upon the spark of inspiration to fire so that she could return to motion. For Fleur however she found this stillness more pronounced. This was both in terms of the difficulty of the obstructing stumbling block and her desire to overcome it, perfection being the goal and nothing less than that being an adequate solution.

Start with what you’ve actually got and then work from there.

‘Okay.’ Coco indulged in a deep calming breath, taking an imaginary step backwards to take better stock of what she had. ‘The form is already pretty much set in stone as it’s got to be a suit, so let’s move on from that foundation.’

Normal jacket or coat tails?

‘No tails: too old fashioned, plus we’re hinting at traditional not wallowing in it. Above all else though they just wouldn’t be her.’

Next: colour scheme?

‘Definitely black as the base colour, anything besides in the wedding setting has the potential to look tacky. Equally as the main colour block it should create a nice refined line.’ Taking up her pencil again, having cast it aside in annoyance some time ago, she let it follow the tracks of her thought. ‘Hooray progress!’

Black maybe the norm for such attire, but might it not be too dark, giving off kind of a funeral air?

‘True to an extent, but at the same time it adds definition and as well as looking cheap something lighter wouldn’t suit her, no terrible pun intended.’ She mentally face-hoofed.

Too plain?

‘Also in part true. The solution to both points therefore: patterning, kept simple so as not to detract or distract from the overall look, also adding some brightness to it.’

Pinstriping perhaps.

‘Hey, sorry I’m late.’

Fleur span round on the chocolate coloured sponge cake of a seat on which she sat, looking over a shoulder to meet the approaching pegasus with a smile. ‘It’s all cool.’

The steel grey shape of Twilight Sky deposited himself in a similar chair, completing a circle of four at the back of a strangely quiet coffee shop, caught in the calm just after the rushed anarchy of morning. ‘So, what’s occurring?’

‘We’ve been waiting on you to find out’ Roxie interjected, almost mistakable for the pegasus’ sister in her mirrored sky blue eyes and short spiked mane, although the pale blue earth mare’s stood in stripes of violet and lilac whereas his were simply azure. ‘The suspense is killing me.’

‘Well sorry, it’s not my fault that the air traffic around here is permanently snarled up’ Sky retorted, though no more seriously than the complaint he addressed. ‘So what’s up Fleur?’

‘As long as it’s not another surprise show I’ll be happy’ Roxie interrupted again before the white unicorn could make an answer.

‘Come on, it wasn’t that bad’ returned the pegasus, picking up the disagreement for the sake of it. ‘I thought it was quite fun actually.’

‘Speak for yourself, all you had to do was strut about and look pretty. I’m not complaining and I’m happy about what it achieved, it was just quite a lot of work.’

‘If you two are finished I could actually tell you’ Fleur broke in to the verbal back and forth. ‘Before I begin though, I would like to thank you all again for what you did.’

‘Sweet Celestia, this is going to be another show isn’t it!’

‘Kind of’ Fleur continued, maintaining a straight face, ‘it’ll be a show of sorts.’

‘Come on Fleur!’ both pegasus and earth mare chorused in unison.

‘Okay okay. Me and Coco are now engaged’ she confessed in a rushed exhale, briskly continuing: ‘and we’d like to invite you all to the wedding.’

‘Well buck’ Sky exclaimed, the first to break the brief silence which had fallen amongst them, startling a server placing a tall latte in front of him.

‘Congratulations’ the final member of their party added quietly but warmly. Amethyst Glow (a dark cream earth mare with strikingly contrasting electric pink hair and tail, her mane a dichotomy of buzz cut back and extravagantly long front) tended to be like that, in the background but therefore always honest in her sparing use of words.

‘Yeah congrats!’ Roxie added in support, grinning broadly.

‘You don’t hang about do you.’ Sky in contrast remained more reserved. ‘I mean you two haven’t been together that long and you’ve already popped the question.’

‘Actually, she asked me.’

‘Really? Again wow, unexpected, she’s always been the quieter one of your pairing.’ His words kept themselves frank and questioning, almost cold.

‘Pack it in Sky, stop being such a downer!’ Roxie again rose her voice and the two turned back to light hearted bickering.

‘Don’t let them bother you’ Amethyst whispered, leaning in towards the unicorn as she spoke, ‘you two are lovely together, and all this proves is that you bring out the best of her confidence.’

‘Thank you’ Fleur whispered back with some gratitude.

‘So, ignoring this ass’ Roxie began again, coming out of her arguing with Sky and ignoring a raised eyebrow and infantile stuck out tongue from the former, ‘what’s the plan then?’

‘Nothing big: a small ceremony of just close friends and family up at Rainbow Falls.’

‘Nice.’

‘I’m not trying to be an asshole Fleur’ Sky corrected apologetically, ‘it’s just ‘cause I give a buck, I’ve known you for a while, and this is sudden even for you. I really am happy for you though. Anyway, friends and family right?’

‘Yeah, so?’

‘So… family… your parents?’

‘Yeah that…’ Fleur’s voice trailed to an uncertain nothing. This was a sticking point from which she had tried to keep her mind, tying an insecure knot in her guts each time it was considered. Her eyes, having fallen to her forehooves, now extricated themselves from the floor and met a concerned circle of knowing faces as they looked up. They helped, a little. ‘For one thing the last time we actually talked was after the show, only consisting of a very brief row, and on top of that they don’t even know about me and Coco yet, let alone anything else.’

‘Damn Fleur.’ A supportive steel grey hoof came to rest against her shoulder, the pegasus attached to it the picture of understanding, matched in turn by the rest of those present. This begot another loaded quiet, none really sure of what to say.

‘Buck ‘em.’ Amethyst shocked everypony there with her blunt words, it being easy to forget that she was capable of them, but all were swift in recovering. ‘I hope that you’ll be pleasantly surprised by their reactions, but if not they can go to Tartarus.’

‘Yeah, buck ‘em’ Roxie mirrored, taking up her cue with a supporting warm smile.

‘Thanks guys.’ Although the knot remained ever-present it was loosened somewhat in their faces, fear and doubt still there also but dulled as incessant voices.

‘Now then’ Sky began anew, lifting his mug with a wing, steam rising from the homely looking cup, ‘this stuff doesn’t seem like the most appropriate drink, but nonetheless cheers to Coco and Fleur.’

‘Cheers!’

The four friends brought their mugs together with a *clink*, sharing a slight giggle at the vaguely weird looking nature of their caffeinated toast.

It’s not personal enough, it needs something.

Coco now faced a crowd of unicorns, each clad in the stark simplicity of a suit jacket, broken up and brightened whilst still maintaining its clean lines with the whiteness of pinstripes running across their bodies and sleeves. Again she had been forced to pause, with déjà vu her unwanted companion, in search of how to conclude the ensemble. It looked good, more than good although her inner self would never let her admit it, making her loath to add anything and ruin its refinement.

Something that speaks; so what do you want to say?

‘That I’m simply hers, that’s all, that’s everything.’ In order to continue she switched to the more academic task of lining, which of course would be velvet for its feel, flicking through a book of offcuts. Initially she flew past a variety of colours uninspired, her neck bent low as she stared down at the passing pages. Then she suddenly stopped, her forehoof resting against a piece of fabric almost matching the turquoise strands of mane hanging at her vision’s periphery. The colour, distinctly somewhere between that of her hair and irises, would ultimately be invisible, really only known to herself as creator and Fleur, but that in turn made it a nice touch. It could therefore be a minor, tiny even, hidden reference to herself, gifted with the outfit to her partner. ‘That could work.’

Author's Note

Title: Creation (French)

Adapté pour le Succès

Coco was jerked awake, jolted by a sudden noise which could only be described as a flash, like a crashing detonation of energy but lacking its explosive violence. Her head and eyelids shot upward, her muzzle leaping from her folded forehooves crossed on the counter in front of her. Her vision however immediately changed from unconscious black to still featureless white as it met an all-consuming brightness on waking. Briefly blinded, she felt a wave of rushing air whip through her mane as she rapidly blinked away the stars filling her eyes. As the dancing lights faded clear the world reformed in their absence, revealing a forest of lightly ruffled fabric and a newly materialised dark navy alicorn in the midst of once again lowering the blinds of the shop’s front windows.

‘Hey, sorry about that. I figured from past experience that it might be best for me to ditch the carriage in order to attempt to be a bit more incognito.’

‘It’s okay’ the earth mare corrected, suppressing a rising yawn from interrupting her. ‘You just… well you woke me up’ she confessed with a bashful shrug.

‘Rough night?’ Luna enquired, true concern at the back of her tone, as she turned, coming further in.

‘Yeah, something like that.’ Coco’s answer as she got to her hooves, doing her best to disguise a slight stretch as she went, was if anything a major understatement. The previous night had been “rough” in that it had been generally devoid of sleep, filled instead with sombre discussion trying to fix the damage the preceding day had wrought, whilst she also fought to hold back her anger at those that had caused it. In the end she felt that they had succeeded in at least one of those aims, but nonetheless felt drained by her endeavours, hence her snoozing on the job.

‘I’m sorry’ the princess nodded with a look of care, managing to impossibly convey a total understanding of the other mare’s concerns.

‘Thanks.’ Coco managed to crack a smile. No matter what was overhanging her as a shadow, she would have been lying if she said that she was not still looking forward to the present. ‘Anyway, these are they.’ She gestured to a pair of shapes sat in the middle of the little room. Each one was covered by an expanse of plain cloth which, although she was aware were an indulgent theatricality, she was glad had remained in place in spite of the unexpectedly teleported arrival.

Luna stepped forward light, almost skipping, on her hooves. ‘May I?’

‘Please’ the designer confirmed with a nod, enjoying immensely the princess’ reactions in anticipation.

In one swift motion both covers were swept up from their settled places, wrapped in silvery magic, Luna almost looking like a filly tearing open presents to Coco’s continued delight. With this flourish both outfits stood revealed: an officer’s jacket and a brocaded tunic each in an off-navy blue, elegant without an excess of showy complexity. The now beaming princess was set in motion, ciclinging a slow figure of eight around the pieces as she took them in, reflected light playing in the back of her adoring gaze as her residual power (distractedly casting aside what it held) glittered back from their silver details.

‘They’re pretty much exactly what we discussed’ Coco explained to her captivated audience, ‘aside from the couple of additions which we passed over.’ She moved beside the other mare, filled with fresh confidence as well as a satisfied rush, to guide her eye as she continued. ‘To add texture to the coat’s sash I embroidered it in a scale mail pattern to give it a metallic look, which also emulates the Guard’s segmented armour and the only other major extra I put into the buttons.’ Both jackets were fronted by a double row of four buttons (with others elsewhere topping their few pockets) and each of the minor shined pieces was like jewellery in of its intricate self, their gilded faces embossed with slitted irises formed of blue garnet and onyx. ‘So, what do you think?’

Luna, still smiling, raised an eyebrow as if to mock the necessity of the question whose answer was clearly obvious. ‘Surely you don’t need me to tell you that they’re fabulous, and as for what I think: I can’t wait to try them on. You’ve outdone yourself.’

A faint pink blush spread across Coco’s cheeks at the compliment. It was not the case that she went searching or fishing for such praise, rather she enjoyed seeing the success of her creations, simply appreciating that they were appreciated. ‘Okay, let’s get to fitting.’

‘I really do love these.’ Three Princesses of the Night each brought a forehoof over the buttoned fronts of their jackets, pausing on each of the gemstone eyes, whilst a shorter trio of earth mares moved around them altering their outfits. Luna and her circle of reflections smiled, enjoying the view of their look.

‘They seemed to be the central element of the armour’ Coco nodded, taking a momentary step backward in consideration of her work, checking the pinned seam that she was in the midst of adjusting, ‘and after Silhouette explained them they seemed perfect.’

The princesses made an inquisitive frown. ‘So how did she explain them?’

‘Erm…’ Coco cocked her head to one side, more focused on her task at hoof rather than the unexpected question. ‘She said… it was a symbol of you watching over Equestria and by extension them doing so as well in your stead.’

‘And what of their predator’s pupils?’

‘She called them nocturnal as opposed to predatory, after all she and the other guards wear the said same eyes in their faces, being about ever-presence in darkness, defensive as opposed to aggressive. She talked at some length actually, proudly, but you’re the expert so is that right?’

‘When it comes to heraldry the meaning is more often in the beholders’ hooves’ the princess sighed, her tones skirting on the edge of melancholy before resurfacing, ‘but yes, that’s what I’d like it to mean. Anyway, as I said I love their incorporation.’

‘Most of the credit for them should go to Fleur, she’s the one who actually put them together’ Coco jumped in with the correction.

‘Ah yes, that reminds me’ Luna started, gaining a new grin with an added conspiratorial air. ‘I hear by way of Silhouette that congratulations are in order for the two of you.’

‘Yeah.’ It was now the earth mare’s turn to indulge in her own personal grin, although in contrast to the alicorn’s hers bore a certain sheepishness. ‘Thank you. No really thank you’ she repeated meaningfully on receiving a confused look from the one she addressed.

‘For what? For my congratulations? That’s really not necessary, and if you’re thinking of bowing please don’t. Can we just forget that I’ve got a crown?’

‘No no I don’t mean anything like that’ Coco shook her head. ‘It was the night after you first came here to place the order that I got up the guts to ask her, majorly motivated by what you said, having previously just played around with the idea. So yeah, I think I at the very least think I owe you a thank you.’

‘Don’t mention it’ Luna managed, taken aback by the obviously heartfelt praise, ‘I’m glad my rambling served some purpose.’ The room went quiet for a while, broken only by the snapping sound of Coco biting through a couple of loose hanging threads, both mares caught by their own thoughts. ‘So when’s the big day?’

‘In about a week and a half’ Coco answered before taking an elongated pause seemingly having to deliberate what she was on the cusp of saying. ‘And actually I’d like to ask you something about that.’

‘I’m all ears.’

‘Well it’s less of a query and more of a sort of request, although there’s no onus attached to it, which it would be hard for there to be anyway seen as you’re royalty and all, and so I don’t really expect you to say yes but…’

‘Coco please’ Luna interrupted, ‘I’m well aware that you have much more confidence than you let on; what you create speaks volumes for your spirit. You’re a wonderful, talented young mare who a certain unicorn is extremely lucky to have, and who should know better than to cast doubt on her own worth and my want to hear what she has to say. So please, just ask away. If there’s anything within my power that I can do for you, short of turning you into an alicorn which everypony seems to request for some reason, it’s yours. That’s what friends do, and I’d like to think that we’re friends, or at the very least could be.’

‘Um…’ Coco paused again to digest the weighty words the princess spoke, being internally elated but still stumbling over her speech. ‘Erm… I know it’s a big ask, but it would be really nice and would mean a lot if you could be the one to marry us.’

‘I’d be honoured’ the alicorn answered without hesitation.

‘Really?’ Coco’s heart skipped joyously, already tightly wound up by all that the day had gifted her, her form having to resist following suit.

‘Why yes’ Luna confirmed with a clear look of happiness written across her own features, ‘it’s not something that I’ve been asked before. Generally most who want a princess at their wedding look to Cadence or Tia, but then again Love and the Sun are far more appropriate than Friendship or the Night, so I can’t blame them.’ Again that deeper glint of emotion played at the back of her bright azure eyes, but whatever it was the princess was well versed in keeping her feelings in check, at least in terms of their expression. ‘Like I said, I’d be honoured.’

Author's Note

Title: Suited for Success (French)

Quelques Réponses

For buck’s sake, make up your damn mind!

Despite the smallness of the tented space (its walls created by billowing cream fabric) Fleur still found just enough room to pace, moving back and forth across the square’s diagonal. This was helped by the general lack of stuff filling the area alongside the unicorn, only consisting of a plain dressing table, with full length mirrors at either side of it and a suited mannequin. In contrast to the facsimile she was however bare, unfinished, her mane done in rivulets and set across one eye in a fancier version of its trademark form, but otherwise unready.

Buck buck buck buck!

There was no pavilion, rather a sheer cliff face, at whose precipice she stood desperately willing herself to jump but wavering, withheld at the brink. As the jagged rocky surface had drawn closer it had grown, becoming ever steeper and taller with each movement under her gaze, equally intensifying all thoughts of the potential fall. She did not however recoil from it; she wanted to leap forth, hoping to fly as opposed to plummet, if only her doubts would be still.

Buck buck buck buck!

‘Hey Fleur’ a familiar earth mare’s voice broke in, stopping the unicorn in her tracks but not turning her, ‘I’ve got the thing from Rare, plus she says sorry it took so long to finish. She said something about Sweetie and having to restock her supply of stones, but whatever.’

Fleur remained glued in place, facing away from the other mare.

‘Fleur? Come on, you’ve got to get ready.’

‘I don’t know if I can do this Rox.’

‘What?’

‘I don’t know if I can do this’ the unicorn repeated, finally turning to meet the pale sapphire mare at her back, her wide violet eyes on the cusp of tears meeting a pair in sky blue filled with concern.

‘Come on now’ Roxie returned with immediacy, not skipping a beat as she appraised her friend, dropping a small package she had been carrying and moving to lay a hoof on Fleur’s shoulder. ‘If you cry your makeup’s going to run and then you’ll be pissed off when you get over this. Did somepony say something?’

‘No’ Fleur shook her head, eyes hitting the floor timidly under the spotlight of care.

‘Okay, so what gives?’

‘I don’t know, I…’

‘Come on, you’re not the first pony to get cold hooves, nor are you going to be the last to regret listening to them unless you start talking, so what’s got you spooked?’

‘A bunch of stuff.’

‘Okay’ Roxie coaxed, raising the muttering unicorn’s muzzle so that their gazes came together once more.

‘I don’t know whether this is me’ Fleur began tentatively, ‘in terms of both what it means and what will change.’

‘What do you think it’s going to change?’

‘I dunno.’

‘Exactly. Nothing about today entails an end to anything, and nothing need change if you don’t want it to.’

‘But everypony makes such a big deal out of it, and what of pegasus talking about having their “wings clipped” or that well known phrase “ball and chain”.

‘All that crap is just the refuge of the terminally idiotic’ Roxie stated with a factual air, succeeding in raising a slight corner of a smile on her audience’s face through her directness. ‘Anypony who buys into any of the “last night of freedom” BS and all the other stuff like that, or calls their spouse a fetter, really shouldn’t be getting married, nor do they have any concept of what getting married is about. What about Coco suggests that she’s at all like that?’

‘Nothing’ Fleur admitted, pricked by guilt in the tacit accusation she had put against her marefriend.

‘Again exactly: nothing. Coco doesn’t want to stop you, limit you, tie you down, whatever you want to call it, rather she wants to be beside you whilst you trail the course that makes you happy, just as the two of you already are.’

‘But that’s just it Rox, am I enough to make her happy in return? You know me more than most so, disregarding that I obviously don’t deserve her, surely she deserves so much more than me. I mean I’m far from the perfection that should be hers, even before considering the substandard cloth I’m cut from…’

‘Stop right there!’ Roxie cut the other mare off again, raising her voice in seriousness as opposed to anger. ‘Fleur you’re right about one thing, I do know you far more than most, so trust me when I say that you’re wrong.’ The makeup artist paused to swiftly dab a teardrop at the edge of Fleur’s eye, skilfully catching it before it marred her visage. ‘You’ve already said that the reason you’re here today isn’t about anything, be it opinion, tradition or… rings, beyond you telling her that you’re hers and that’s exactly the same with her. That’s everything; it’s unconditional, including every kink, every scuff and every frayed seam. You’re offering yourself bare, and the point is she doesn’t care about any imperfection, just as you’re incapable of seeing any of hers, she just wants you. Plus do you think she hasn’t had exactly these same doubts as you? The answer is no.’ She now stepped forward bringing the unicorn into a gentle but forceful hug, both mare’s standing to support one another on their hind hooves. ‘Now you need to stop being such a silly filly and get your ass in gear.’

‘There’s one more thing.’

‘Shoot Fleur’ Roxie replied caringly, drawing back just enough so that they returned to staring face to face.

‘We visited my folks.’

‘And? What did they say?’

‘It’s more what they didn’t say, it was mostly silence. They were surprised by our arrival, we went in, there was no easy way to tackle it so I just kind of laid all my cards on the table and then there was quiet, an absolute quiet. Coco was all smiles, she was simply amazing in the face of the two of them, I tried to raise some small talk in the void with limited success, and still there was almost unbroken silence. I hated them, I still hate them, for how they treated her, so gaining nothing except for increasingly angry we left and almost immediately jumped in a cab. I wanted to hold her, to apologise for the way they were, feelings in equal measure to how much I wanted to kill them, seriously kill them Rox, for what they did, but she beat me to it and all she kept saying was that she was sorry for how they were to me. But anyway, the reason that all this matters is because in my rush to leave I dropped their invitation to today, which I foalishly hoped we might’ve been able to give them, so…’

‘They’re not going to be here.’

‘But what if…’

‘If they didn’t have the guts to even talk to you, no matter what they may have wanted to say, they’re not going to show their faces here and if they do it won’t matter. The crowd is secondary, today is just about you and Coco, and don’t try and tell me that you’re eyes are going to be anywhere other than on her in the dress you and Rare put together. We’ll be there for the after party of course’ she grinned, ‘but the moment is really just between the two of you. Even the Princess is really just background.’

‘What?!’

‘Oh buck.’ Roxie’s face turned flushed as it became sheepish. ‘Well I sure bucked up. Sorry to spoil the surprise, but Princess Luna’s here. Coco invited her to conduct the ceremony as she preferred the idea of that to some random pony neither of you knew doing it, plus she wanted to introduce you. So yeah… whoops.’

As her friend concluded her explanation Fleur let her mind refocus from the torrent she had been submerged under. She took a deep breath, previously overwhelmed, but now soothed by the passing current. ‘Okay, you can make up for it by getting my suit off the rack and helping me into it’ she said definitively, lifting up the discarded package with her magical glow as she spoke.

‘Sure thing’ Roxie affirmed in motion, going straight to the still waiting mannequin.

‘And Rox; thank you.’

‘Forget it.’

Fleur meanwhile undid the daintily bow tied ribbon (which Rarity had deemed entirely necessary for the delivery), sliding a box from the parcel’s packaging and lifting its lid. As yet she was no silversmith, so she had left what was contained within in the more capable hooves of the unicorn fashionista. Inside (set within more patterned tissue paper than was either reasonable or seemingly physically possible in the box’s small confines) was a brooch, her little addition to the ensemble which would be set at her buttonhole in place of a faceless bloom. The piece of intricate jewellery did however take the form of a flower in full blossom, but more specifically it was Coco’s flower, so often worn by the designer in her mane adorning a neat clip. The mirror image’s petals though, in two concentric circles of deep outer and pale inner red with a purple centre, were formed from gemstones, eat cut with perfection to accentuate their natural facets and all exceedingly precious. She would wear it as a badge at her breast, alongside her heart as she strode beside her love up the aisle. It was a blatant symbol, a tad on the obvious side in meaning, but it was something she now knew she wanted to shout and shout loud, regardless of all else.

Author's Note

Title: Some Answers (French)

L’amour est en Fleurir

In unison Coco and her reflection took a deep breath as they exchanged considering looks, both in the final stages of self-preparation, having just finished donning their surprise attire. The dress they wore, until then an exciting unknown, had a simplistic prettiness, although stark white not in a traditional wedding form, being without veil or elongated train. Instead it toed a line somewhere between cocktail and evening, much like a similar piece she herself had put together for this one’s designer now what seemed an age ago, except with the addition of pads in the shoulders, giving them a slightly broadened and angled look. Bisecting the pure velvet expanse about her barrel sat a thick black ribbon in contrast, tied to top her back in a neat bow, which to her satisfaction she realised would by chance nicely match alongside her partner’s suit. She turned side on, taking in the drawn flowing line of the outfit. Fleur undoubtedly had a good eye, the piece having fitted perfectly with next to no alteration, but she hoped the unicorn would forgive her own minor addition to it.

Coco turned to this extra end to a tightly wrapped parcel, previously secreted in her saddlebags and now left waiting on her dressing table (the only other bit of furniture apart from the mirror in the small tent in which she stood). She tore off a single strip of tape holding the folded amalgam of layered bubble wrap and tissue paper together, allowing the package to unfurl. What nestled within this copious protection, although not wholly requiring it, was a lily, delicate, beautiful and yet deceptively strong in its pale white and silvery petals being made of thinly blown glass. Despite it material, any fears she had had about its potential weight vanished as she lifted it free, her trust being well placed when she had it made. An equal worry had obviously been whether it would work with the dress, yet she had nonetheless gone with it and now as she pinned it to one side in her mane (its clip disguised against its stem) she found it fitted in perfectly.

‘It’s time’ a whispered voice muttered from beyond the canvas.

In an instant the tent flap was before her. She had long since passed the point of trepidation, apprehensiveness lost as she got ready in what her love had crafted for her. Those doubts that remained, what few they were and personal in nature, had been drowned out as her heart aflutter kicked up its tempo. Now therefore she was more afloat, allowing herself and only really needing one deep inhale more, as she lifted the fabric doorway and stepped through the portal.

Brightness surrounded her, the noontime sun high in the sky as its comfortable warmth fell on the world below. The day was perfect, not too hot and with only the lightest of refreshing breezes circulating the air, the sky clear as the ocean save for the few fixed clouds set as monuments within it. From these fluffy islands flowed colour striped in each and every shade of the spectrum, falling steep vertically as rolling streams, to land in the lakes and ponds of the tiny idyllic town and its outskirts. These pools then became rivers, splintering outward to run as ever thinner branches of a vastly intricate web which adorned the plateau, itself bound on all sides except for one by a bowel of snow-capped mountains. On the one side where these peaks were lacking the surging rainbows abruptly went into freefall as they leapt away from the cliff face. It was at the edge of one of these waterfalls that the tent she exited was placed, but it may as well have been anywhere because her eyes could not care less about the scenery.

In front of her, across the flowing rainbow gulf between them, a second pavilion was set mirroring her own and in equal reflection its flap opened, allowing through it the mare who instantly consumed all of her attentions. That Fleur was gorgeous was nothing at all new, but each time the snowy unicorn shone (in both look and appreciation) within something that she had made, Coco could not help her internal celebrations of pride. Her gaze almost greedily enjoyed the sight, glutting itself in tracing each inch of the elegantly suited form before her, coming to pause at something unexpected and gleaming at the mare’s chest, but whatever was within the suit’s buttonhole remained obscured as a colourful burst of reflected sunlight. When her eyes chose to move on, following the soft curves of a beaming face and its tempting lips, they came to meet a single brilliant violet iris (its twin hidden beneath a ripple of pale pink) which greeted her with a playful wink, instantly returned.

With some effort Coco made herself turn away from the shared look and moment, set into motion she knew was reciprocated by her partner, each of them tracing the river in parallel along its opposite banks. They both followed their own white carpeted path, in turn following the lightly meandering bends of the colour filled stream. Beyond them meanwhile flanking the outside of each of their routes was a double row of chairs, few in number but all uniformly filled with familiar smiling faces, all looking inward although as closest friends not making a stage play of their steps. Their journey, in reality not far at all but made to feel considerable in what it was and where it ended, concluded at an arch of rosewood planks bridging the gap over the passing waters. Further topping this had been added a framework gateway woven with white rose vines, a contrasting border to the image of a dark navy alicorn which stood waiting beneath it.

As one their hooves hit the planks. Closing the gap between them they came together at the bridge’s centres, pausing only as Fleur’s eye darted a glance swiftly at Luna before returning to Coco’s, the unicorn’s one visible eyebrow rising subtly as if to say ’what the buck!’ in pleased surprise. The earth mares stifled a laugh and instead replied with her own conspiratorial wink before the previously disguised something drew her gaze, the petals of its form becoming clearer in the shade. Recognition of her often worn and favoured flower was immediate; as was its associated wave of feeling, bound up in the simple yet touching symbol, whilst at the same time she noticed that Fleur’s attention had similarly drifted elsewhere. As their eyes returned to lock once more both succumbed to a joint giggle at their accidental mimicry, descending into fresh smiles full of warmth.

Finally no distance remained and they were side by side before the Princess of the Night. First Fleur’s forehoof went to fold with Coco’s (holding her possessively tight), then the earth mare’s head fell against her taller partner’s shoulder and in turn the unicorn’s came to rest against and lightly nuzzle her love’s mane, each tender action fluidly begetting the next. They moved and stood in sync, now hoof in hoof, lightly held by and yet tightly caught in each other’s embrace, in wordless harmony in front of the world behind and on the cusp of that beyond.

Author's Note

Title: Love is in Bloom (French)

Racines Coupées

A great temple sat upon the crest of a lightly sloping hill, reigning tall as it sat supreme in its surveillance over the greatness of its domain, although standing high for no greater purpose than the aggrandisement of its owners. Eight uniform pillars of pure white marble were set central in the building’s front, supporting above a dual slope of stark black tiles forming a sharply pointed roof. All was a merger of traditions, cut from a stylistic mould of both Cloudsdale sky-mansion and imperial palace to form a single elite symbol on its own plinth like peak. But this was not Cloudsdale, it was Canterlot, nor was the place invested with the righteous majesty of Equestria’s royalty but rather was a product of aristocratic “old money”, shouted out without subtlety in its form. At either side of this sharp nexus extended two separated and yet connected wings, each several houses in scale in its own right, fronted by vast windows of interlocking panes, capped by arches of glass with stained accents. All this hinted at vast vaulted halls in the restricted world beyond.

Home sweet home.

Embarrassing although it was to admit (and even harder still to accept), this was her home, the place being far too tightly wrapped in not distant enough memories to allow for denial. Stood before its insistent magnificence this inescapable reality was made to hit all the harder, as if the building had eyes which could not just see her, but see into her and therefore force her full awareness. Placed atop its mountain, extending its many stories skyward beyond this height as its recesses grasped at the ether, it could make anypony who beheld it feel small. It was undoubtedly constructed at least to some extent with this purpose in mind, and to this she was no kind of exception, made ant like in its shadow under the sun.

She stood outside its environs for a few moments more, cast statuesque on the pavement beneath its stare, drinking in her foe, preparing herself within and concealing this without. Then she was in motion. Advancing the few steps forward she met the wrought iron obstacle of its front gateway. Set in the fortifications of high walls, made taller by being topped by similarly black metallic fencing (with whom she was far more accustomed with stealthily scaling in the dead of night), its two gates were a beautiful interweaving of false plant life, vines snaking together in a lattice with thorns shining out in painted gold. These were all woven naturally around thick bars, whose tops ended in the equally golden spear points of her namesake. For all its artistry however it was nothing more than a sharp dividing line. With a deep breath she lifted the latch, swung the portal wide open and was at once inside.

Foregoing the path proscribed her; a long winding gravelled serpent of a driveway, coiling back and forth to scale the hill at an easier incline, she stepped instead into its surrounding gardens, letting their perfume wash over her. Each laboured step on the ground (hallowed by its past) already was a journey in itself, so she resolved on the “scenic route” over a direct assault, to maintain herself for the destination at its end. On either side now rose the trunks of trees, gnarled fingers covered by gloves of thick blossoms, thickly heaping their outstretched branches yet lightly fluttering in a slight breeze felt only by them. Her slow walking in the colourful under canopy brought her to a break in the vegetation, a grotto centred on a pond encircled by stone, secreted in the patch of woodland but already known well to her. Floating on the glassy surface of the water a shoal of pale lilies drifted, matching the unicorn’s face reflected with them through the ripples. She had always preferred the flowers above to those imprisoned in the mirrored pool as ornaments. They in contrast proudly spread their beauty in rose-tinting the passing sunlight, even before they fell as snow on the wind, uncaring if they flew beyond their nominal owner’s domain.

She moved onward, passing through a fresh tunnel of flower laden fronds and then out again, crossing a lawn of neatly trimmed grasses (one of many), more like a field of a fiefdom in its size. Prominent within this green expanse stood the airy wooden structure of an open gazeebo, painted and styled to match the house at its back, supported by a quintet of carved pillars with flowing vines allowed to creep into its eaves. The edifice’s position was alien to its nominal purpose, that of a private space in any garden, in both being sited before its associated domicile and in its state raised to prominence. It was therefore at best a viewing platform, from which its master could gaze possessively outward, or at worst a display cabinet for those that might inhabit it, to show them off to the passing world. In either case she passed it by, ignoring the polite voices and forced laughs which echoed within its empty shell.

Cresting the hill her, until then muted hoofsteps gained new noise, crunching into the white river of chalky gravel which formed her penultimate obstacle, leaving little room for further procrastination even if she tried. Her scraping hoof-falls turned to sharp clicking as they hit the first in the long series of the front steps, ascending yet further to the pinnacle of this dominant rise. Her prolonged climb finally ended, faced down by the sheer blank visage of a thick panelled doorway, the route of her ascent stretching far away behind her. Despite this she was neither here nor there, on the cusp of her goal and having passed through a world that she had known well, yet at the same time feeling out of place, like she was an intruder.

Remember to breath.

She stood stock still on the doorstep, unable to take the final leap. Too much lay on the other side, her mind set deep in work conjuring yet more to potentially be awaiting her, its threat seemingly putting at risk everything in the happy ignorance of her outer world. How would they react? What would she say? What would be said in reply? Her conclusions were only despairing, expecting nothing but disappointment, anger and misunderstanding, disgust even, in passing through the portal. Her eyes, preferring the less portentous view of the floor, kept themselves locked to her hooves, the shield of her mane falling as a redoubt against the sight. From beneath this pink striped curtain a pale brown forehoof came to hers, laying itself upon her with a comforting pressure. She tossed back her hair, revealing the hoof’s source, two azure irises meeting hers, silently telling her that they and their owner were there and that everything would be alright (or else did not matter). The beautiful earth mare beside her simply leaned up and their lips met tenderly, another touch loaded with unflinching support. Her eyelids fluttered closed, content where she was and made strong enough to advance a little further, letting her magic reach out and press the doorbell.

Author's Note

Title: Severed Roots (French)