Fluttershy’s Terribly Busy Day
Sanctae
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She awoke bright and early, just as she always did, warm and snug under her pink floral covers. A little too snug, actually. It was getting very warm these days; summer must be starting to really come in. Soon she’d have to change to her thinner blankets or she wouldn’t be able to sleep anymore!
The sunlight was washing in through the crescent moon cut-outs in her pink wooden shutters burning sharp, glowing shapes onto the wall by her dresser. She yawned and stretched, sleepily ruffling her long pink mane as she got out of bed, blinked the sleep out of her eyes, and re-made the bed behind her. She considered herself a morning pony on a good day, not a patch on Applejack and her incredible five a.m. starts, but certainly a respectable seven.
And she’d have to be a morning pony today, she thought, blearily brushing the tangles out of her mane, today was important. She trotted lightly down the stairs to her cosy living room, smiling at the birdhouses and hutches tucked away in every conceivable corner.
The smell of damp linen drifted from the laundry she had hung from the ceiling beams, wrinkling her nose as she fluttered up to check it; still damp, despite her best efforts to get it all dry overnight. She pouted slightly, pulling things off the makeshift airer and awkwardly making her way outside with her hooves full of soggy fabric.
A thin string ran between two young trees that stood just by her house, and soon the sound of flapping fabric drifted through her colourful garden. She passed slowly down the line, mechanically clipping tight wooden pegs over the corners of her blankets and tablecloths until she was all done.
She huffed a little as she tidied the empty peg-bag back under the sink and cracked a window to let the heavy, damp smell out a bit. Her cosy living room breathed easier as the air started to clear, but the weather outside was hot and dry and the room stubbornly refused to cool as she began her morning chores.
She hummed, perking up a little as she pattered around the room, stopping off at every food bowl in a well-worn order. Piles of old, wilted leaves and dried seeds were tipped out and replaced by fresher fruits and vegetables she had cut from her kitchen garden yesterday.
She ate her own breakfast along the way, sitting alone up at her wooden kitchen table, casting glances out of the window every so often. She quietly crunched through her greens and sipped at her dandelion cordial before clattering the dishes into the sink, running them under the tap.
Trotting outside again, she ducked inside her creaky old henhouse, carefully sweeping the old, dusty straw out and spreading a carpet of fresh clean straw in its place. Straw was actually the theme of the day; she was finally going to get around to fixing up the thatching on her roof. It was one of those ‘I’ll do it tomorrow’ jobs for which ‘tomorrow’ had finally crept up.
As she rinsed her hooves again she ran down the day’s to-do list. The usual morning things were done and she felt fresh and awake, happy, even. The big job of the day was the thatching, but before she started she’d need to gather … wait, there was something she’d forgotten to check.
She poked her nose out of the door, testing the wind. A westerly again. Hmm, she didn’t like westerlies much at all. She frowned to herself. Oh, she should have checked with Rainbow what the weather was going to be for the next few days. Now her laundry was going to be all smokey and she’d have to wash it again. Oh, bother! She didn’t really have time for this … but there wasn’t anything to be done. She’d just have to go rinse them out again.
On the other hoof she did always love the walk down the river. The waving grasses tickled her hooves and brushed softly against her coat. The steady wind was hot at her back but the basket balanced between her wings shielded her from the heat.
The weather generally could have been better, she supposed, the specifically annoying wind notwithstanding. The sky was dark and murky, the obscured sun staining it a deep, angry red. She furrowed her brows as she looked up at the dark clouds and fiery sky. Rainbow hadn’t told her that the weather would be like this. It was very heavy and brooding and Fluttershy didn’t like it very much. She’d much rather a sunny day with a bright blue sky and a picnic with her friends.
The river was wide and still, meandering sleepily between the few billowing trees. The deep red light gave everything a hot, autumnal glow, Fluttershy’s daisy-yellow coat turning a deep, warm auburn as she reached her spot by the bank. It was very quiet, the loudest sound was the continual roar of the wind in her ears. She looked over to the other bank, over the open sweeping fields leading to the edge of the Everfree. Nopony else was around; she was the only pony on the bankside footpath, washing her laundry in the murky morning light.
She loved the water, loved the bubbly, ripply noises and the soft, cool touch of it as she pushed her meagre collection of clothes and blankets through the water. The blankets would take a long time to dry indoors, but right now she was content to gaze into the river, watching the flecks of burning sunlight dance along the surface. She had a stone here, a big, smooth rock that sat just on the waterline, perfect for scouring out the dust and smoke.
“Hmm hmm, hm hm hmhm hmm hmhmm...”
It was a quiet, breathy sound that mingled with the bubbling stream. She was distant and unfocused, looking beneath the water’s surface as she scoured the blanket against the rock.
“Hm hmhm … you feel sad … but Pinkie … hmm hmm hm … isn’t that bad...”
She kept scrubbing, the first threads starting to fray under the strain, hooves scrunching tightly into the fabric. Everything seemed so very far away from her. It was just her breathing, the fibres straining against her hooves, the musical sounds of the river...
“Hmm hmm oh!”
A sudden spot of colour drifted into the corner of her eye. She looked up, startled, at a bright blue feather, spinning slowly as it floated in the easy current. It was simply beautiful. Hooking her blanket around the rock for safekeeping, she took to her wings with a puff of displaced air, floating silently over the water. She fluttered over to the feather, plucking it from the stream without ever touching the water’s glassy surface.
When she got back to the shore she was very glad she had bothered. It was a beautiful primary, a flight feather, glimmering cyan in the sunlight. She would have to show it to Rarity later. Maybe it could go in one of her designs or something. Something this gorgeous couldn't go to waste
She dipped it in the stream, washing it thoroughly to remove the splashes and stains, before slipping it into her mane behind one ear.
The time passed easily as she worked, the cool water pleasant and soothing as she hummed to herself. Soon she was staggering back, baskets full of wet, heavy laundry, picking her way down the grassy path in the muted light.
Soon her washing was again hanging limply from her ceiling, the odd, lone drip splashing on her carpet from the articles she had not wrung out terribly well. She had rushed a little, being as behind as she was now. She picked up her old, hoofwoven baskets from their spot by the door, fluttering her wings to get them settled comfortably on their back. Then she was out of the door and into the midday heat.
She was heading towards town to a field where sedge grasses grew. It was a strong, reedy grass that was perfect for thatching and weaving. The walk was short and flat, only a minute or two and hardly a novelty to her, but she found peaceful enjoyment in it nonetheless.
The wind was hot on her face as she bounced through the fields, skipping, hopping, and then gliding back down on her wingtips. The wind was powerful and steady as it flowed out and away from Ponyville, making gliding completely effortless. She tore her eyes down from the town’s slumping skyline, scanning around for mature grasses as the reeds began to tickle at her coat.
She moved steadily through her sedge field, plucking the long, firm stems with her mouth and placing them carefully in her baskets. Normally, her little animal friends came to help her with this kind of thing but they were out playing today. Angel Bunny had been very insistent this morning, wanting to take them all out on an adventure or a game. She’d been nervous, wanting them to stay home, but he’d been very insistent. Oh, she hoped they’d all be okay when they came back this evening.
It was tiring work, her neck ached, but she it was satisfying work. She giggled to herself. Maybe she’d been spending a little too much time around Applejack!
Oh! Maybe she could ask Applejack to come over and help her! Applejack was such a helpful pony and a good friend. You could always count on AJ to lend a comforting hoof or a kind word when you needed her to-
Oh, silly, silly, Fluttershy. She knew Applejack was far too busy running errands in town. She’d seen her this morning, galloping breathlessly into Ponyville, her horseshoes striking sparks off the cobbled road. It had been very important. She remembered the look on her face when AJ had flown past her on the way to town. She’d seen the lines in her face in the hard orange light as she barked instructions at Fluttershy. AJ had asked her to go draw water from the well, probably something for the farm she wanted help with that morning, but Flutterhshy had just stood there squeaking stupidly like a silly pony and AJ had gotten a little annoyed at her.
AJ had given up after that, snorting angrily and charging off into town, a stark black silhouette drowned out against the painful morning light. Fluttershy had gone home and hid under the bed after that she’d been so embarrassed.
No, she couldn’t ask AJ to help her after she hadn’t helped AJ this morning. That was so selfish. Silly, selfish, Fluttershy. Far too busy.
Far too busy.
She shivered, continuing her slow walk through the waving fields, eyes fixed on the ground as she gradually filled her baskets. Well, she thought, it was good to do things for yourself from time to time. Help from friends was all well and good but somethings you just had to do for yourself. Like thatching, for example.
It was funny, now that she thought about it. She knew exactly what she was doing when it came to thatching. She knew the rules for setting up the layers, knew how to weave the layers together to make it strong, but she didn’t know where the rules came from. She didn’t really understand why weaving one way would make the thatch waterproof, but another way would leave it leaking like a sieve. She’d have to ask Twilight when she next saw her. Twilight had a book for everything! She was such a clever pony.
There was her halfway tree, a beautiful old oak, still gorgeous despite the toll exacted by the dry air. It marked the halfway point between her house and the town, as well as the halfway point in her loop through the field.
She rested herself against the side of the tree, the hot wind streaming through her mane and stinging her eyes. Not so long ago a family of squirrels had moved in; a couple and their young kits. She’d enjoyed seeing them scamper and bounce between the branches when she’d been passing through. The tree was quiet now; now just a waymarker on the road to Ponyville.
They could have at least told her they were leaving.
Oh my, what was the time? She shook herself out of her reverie, looking up at the murky sky, the sun a deep red behind the roiling clouds. It was almost mid-morning; she’d completely lost track of herself! Tucking her baskets in the safe embrace of the tree roots, she turned towards Ponyville. She didn’t want to be late.
She’d had a lovely time with Twilight. Twilight was a very smart pony and sometimes she would talk for hours about things that silly old Fluttershy couldn’t really follow. Twi was so animated when she talked, her face lighting up as she lectured away; Fluttershy was happy to just sit, sipping her tea, and watch her talk.
It was nice, especially since Twilight had been shouting at her a lot this morning. It was a silly thing. Fluttershy hadn’t done something properly this morning, bumbling around like a little filly, and her friend had been angry and upset about it, storming off to Canterlot. But now Twilight had dried her tears and forgiven her and given her a big hug and everything was back as it should be as the both of them giggled over tea and sandwiches at the corner cafe.
She stood up, mopping her eyes and stretching her legs before picking her baskets up onto her back again. She had about three quarters of the reeds she needed, enough to start heading back if she picked the rest on the way. She put Ponyville at her back, the wind racing out from the town and sweeping over the grasslands before the Everfree. The air was alive with brilliant points of light, dancing amber fireflies that whirled and spun through the air before dying into nothing.
A few of the tiny stars, caught on some eddy in the roaring wind, dropped into the grasses a few hooves from her, landing safely before their little lights were spent. A thin wisp of smoke began to issue from their new home.
She didn’t like that. She didn’t want them to do that. She asked them nicely to please not do that. She didn’t want that. Please don’t do that. But they didn’t listen to her.
She shrugged off her baskets, flitting over to the patch of smoke. Thin, orange tongues of flame were licking out of the tall, yellow grasses, snapping at the air and at her face. She looked around frantically, drawing short, squeaky breaths as she fluttered indecisively around the slowly growing blaze.
She didn’t know what to do, she couldn’t stop it. Oh ... oh ... what should she do … who … how could she... somepony ... help. Water. Water!
With a peep of fright she shot off towards her house like a butterfly in a gale. Hurriedly, she spun the kitchen taps over a big wooden bucket that she slammed into the sink, glancing out of her windows as she counted the seconds. Wings straining, she dragged the slopping bucket back out to the field, dumping it on the crackling grasses then stamping out the hissing embers with a quivering hoof.
She sat for a moment, cowering below the tops of the grasses, shivering and sobbing. It was her fault, she knew it. If she was smart or brave then this wouldn’t have happened, but she wasn’t. She was just Fluttershy. Stupid, scared Fluttershy. Dragging out a bucket of water after the fire had already started. Too little too late. She lay there, shaking in her nest of grass as wind scurried over her.
Nothing stirred as she waited. Nothing moved. The minutes flowed by as she watched the embers sizzle and smoke, a funny feeling churning in her tummy as the blackened earth dried and the water slowly slipped away like the fear in her chest.
She picked herself to her hooves, mopping her eyes with a hoof and picking up her baskets again. Thoughts of the fire filled her mind as she turned back towards her house. She hated fire. It was loud, nasty, and scary. She tried to think about something else, locking the fire away.
The sky was so dark today, she thought as she cantered home. She wondered if it was going to rain. She hoped not, at least not until she’d finished the last bit of re-thatching. After everything was set up the thatch would completely waterproof, but until she locked the last layers in place it would leak like a sieve. She didn’t really understand why that was, which was odd for how important it was. She’d have to ask Twilight about it next time she saw her. Twilight could explain it to her; she was such a clever pony.
The thatching was mindless work, plaiting reeds for the under-layer and then lying stacks on top.
“Hmm hmmm hmhm hm hm hmm hmm hmmm...”
The old, splintered thatching lay in a pile by the wall.
“Hmm hmm ... hmmm hmhm … hmmm.”
The humming faltered as the final reeds refused to lie neatly, taking a little more coercion than normal.
“Hmhmhmhm hmm, hmm hmm ... there.”
She mopped her brow and stood back to admire her new section of roof, the fresh reeds forming an obvious patch amongst the older thatch. She hadn’t finished as much as she’d planned but there were only a few minutes left before she had to leave for her thursday spa appointment with Rarity. She’d just have to finish up tomorrow.
She dusted her hooves, tidying the old thatching into a smaller pile. Hopping lightly down from the roof, she nudged open her door and went to her bedroom to brush off the worst of the dust. It was one thing to go to a spa to get a little pampered, it was another to turn up covered in dust and seeds; Rarity would never let her hear the end of it!
The spa had been fantastic, all the aches and pains evaporating in a cloud of perfumed steam as she chatted with Rarity. The warm herbs and gentle gossip had cleared her head to no end as she and Rarity set the world to rights over the course of a long hour. The drinks had been pleasant and cool, Fluttershy content to settle in her downy dressing gown and let Rarity carry the conversation about the latest on the newcomers to Ponyville, the latest fashions in Canterlot, and so on.
Now the tingling contentment was fading. Rarity had left to go check on Sweetie Belle. She’d left the little filly to her own devices this morning and she was not unreasonably worried that the Boutique may have burned down in her absence. Besides, she needed to get back to designing her fashions for the unseasonably hot, dry summer that the Pegasi had scheduled.
Fluttershy lay on the sofa in her living room, trying to hold on to the last fading wisp of that peaceful state of mind. However, time waited for nopony; she had to get on with the day. The laundry should be dry by now and then she could get on with the evening meal.
The laundry wasn’t dry so she decided to leave it up overnight. The meal was bland and tasteless as she had just thrown a hoofful of salads on a plate and called it a day. She was out of dressings but the walk into Ponyville was just as un-appetising. She felt exhausted, drained, but she wanted to get a little drawing done while she had enough energy to get out her paper and crayons for an hour or so.
She enjoyed drawing Rainbow Dash and Twilight the best. Rainbow Dash had so many colours in her mane that she had to use most of her art set to get her looking just right, which was good fun. Twilight was simpler, but she just liked the deep purple colours. Thinking about it, Rarity’s mane was also that kind of colour but it was very hard to get the curls right.
She gently put the crayon down and eyed her hoofiwork. She wasn’t the best mouthdrawer, certainly no Applejack, but she was rather pleased with the results. Her crayony friends all stood around a sad little Fluttershy, all wobbly smiles and hugs. A boxy basket of apples and a clumsy cake were laid out in front of her on the grass.
She’d turned the tear-stains into some fluffy white clouds and the trees around them finished off the scene nicely with their bulbous green tops and overthick trunks. It wasn’t very good, flat and dull, more lifeless than how she wanted it. Still, she thought, she was just doing it for fun so it was still fit for her mantlepiece next to the two she’d already done.
She placed it above her fireplace, sitting back on the sofa to admire the new addition; it was her best group picture yet, certainly. She would have to invite her friends over to have a look when they weren’t all so busy. She shivered as she ran her eyes over her little gallery of three, considering lighting the fireplace to chase out the cold draught.
How silly that was. She hadn’t lit the fireplace in days. It was summer after all, and it would be just horrid to light the fireplace in the height of summer.
The sun had already set and she was very tired. Her eyes eased closed as she lay on her sofa, the world slowly falling away as she slipped ... She shook herself, blinking, and slid off the sofa, yawning as she took the stairs up the bedroom.
She closed the shutters, the flickering, angry light from the setting sun casting a violent glow through the crescent moon cut-outs. She flipped back the covers and climbed into bed, then sat up again as something pushed awkwardly into the side of her head. The feather from the river. She’d completely forgotten.
Delicately, she threaded it out of her mane, and brought it in front of her face, running a hoof along the feather’s edge. She watched the singed fibres of the feather snapping back into place after the stroking pressure from her hoof had passed, caught in the flickering red light.
There was something in the sight, in the colours. Something that drew her to repeat the motion, feeling the fibres tickle the tip of her hoof as pictures dripped like tar into the back of her mind. A pressure built behind her eyes as she rubbed her face, the stained feather dropping lightly to the floor by her bedside.
She needed to get some sleep, she had a busy day to get up for tomorrow ... so much to do. She had to go have tea with Twilight, meet Rarity for their thursday spa session ... watch Rainbow practise her new tricks. There was so much to do with all her friends. And that was before all of her normal chores! It was nice though, being busy. Kept her mind off things.
She stared up at the ceiling, something cool and wet rolling quietly down her cheek and memories dancing through her eyes, as she waited for morning to come.
Being busy could be fun when you spent the time with friends.
She liked spending time with her friends.
Fluttershy loved her friends.
She really did.
Mi-... loved them.
So very much.
