So....ummm....what happened....
“Rainbow, we really shouldn’t be here,” I whine, but Rainbow just leans her elbows on the table and starts looking around.
“Why not? You asked him to leave you alone. I told him to leave you alone, and I warned him what would happen if he didn’t. If the idiot didn’t listen to being told no more than once, then he totally deserves what’s coming to him.”
“That’s just it,” I mumble. “She isn’t coming. She’s in Canterlot at a Garden Party. She’s been working on her dress for the past week.”
“She didn’t go,” Dash waves me off.
“Wh- what?”
“Rarity didn’t go to Canterlot. I caught up with her yesterday before she left and told her what was up. She said she’d send a note to say sorry, but that she wouldn’t put this off for one single day.”
“Wh- what else did she say?” I ask, looking around for a flash of purple and white. Now, I understand why Dashie was so insistent about going out for lunch instead of just having a nice salad at home with me. “Y- you two planned this, didn’t you?”
“Nah, Rares just wanted to make sure there was an audience, you know? Keep things safe for everypony.”
I start to cower behind the table. The stallion that’s been bothering me will be here any minute. I just know it. He gets his lunch from the same little stand every day. I know, because I figured out his schedule so I could avoid him as much as possible. He hasn’t been in Ponyville very long, and he seemed nice enough at first, but then he seemed too nice.
He asked me out, which was fine, but when I told him no he just smiled and said he wasn’t a quitter. He sent me flowers and started just showing up at the cottage. Finally, I really did ask him to just leave me alone, but he just smiled again and said he’d convince me eventually. So, I told Rainbow Dash, and she yelled at him for a while, but he just kept that same smile on his face and now….oh no.
“Maybe I should just go out with him,” I mumble. “Maybe he’ll see that I’m really not that interesting and decide that he doesn’t want to waste his time on somepony like me. Maybe if he gets what he wants, then he’ll just leave me alone. You go tell Rarity I’ve decided to tell him yes.”
Rainbow just raises her eyebrow at me, “Yeah. Like I want to be on the receiving end of her reaction to that. Plus, I’d never let you do something like that Flutters. You don’t have to go out with anypony you don’t want to. Plus, you’re awesome and you look like that, so that plan totally wouldn’t work. Even if he is an idiot. Here she comes!”
Of course, Dashie picked the perfect seats to see both Carousel Boutique and the stand where that poor, unsuspecting stallion gets his lunch. We aren’t going to miss a thing. I wish I could miss it. I wish I was brave enough to stand up and go stop what I know is about to happen, but I’m not. So, I just watch.
Rarity looks beautiful, just like always. She put a little extra effort into her mane and her coat is shiny from our trip to the spa yesterday. She’s trotting down the street at a jaunty little clip that most ponies aren’t going to recognize as the kiss of death it is. She's smiling at everypony, but there's a hard glint in her eye. She’s like a predator expertly camouflaging herself as something beautiful and benign, enticing her target ever closer. Her poor prey doesn’t realize that death is imminent. I’ve observed these same behaviors in nature so many times and they are truly fascinating. Watching Rarity like this though… It's beautiful and terrifying at the same time.
She’s seen him, but she's making it look like she’s interested in Daisy’s new selection of flowers particularly the roses. That gets his attention.
I want to yell and warn him, "Run! Run now!” But he probably wouldn’t listen anyway. He’s got that smile on now, the same one he keeps giving me. It really is too bad that smile means what it means. He’d be really handsome if he wasn’t so arrogant.
He’s talking to Rarity now. I don’t think they’ve met before. It looks like she’s introducing herself. She just put her hoof on his chest.
Oh my goodness, I can’t watch. I tuck behind my mane even more. Here it comes.
Rarity reaches up to pull him in like she’s telling him a secret. At least she isn’t going to yell whatever speech she’s prepared for the entire street to hear. He was smiling at first. Now he looks confused.
Oh! He’s looking at me!
He stopped. Thank goodness.
Oh no.
She’s not done with him. I try to look away, but I can’t. Seconds tick by and I watch as an arrogant stallion dissolves into a decimated little foal.
First, his eyes jerk away from me and focus on the dirt at his own hooves. His tail stops flicking playfully and tucks firmly between his legs as if to protect the parts I’m certain Rarity threatened to cut off if he bothers me again. His ears press back so flat against his head that they almost disappear. Then, at the last second, she says something that makes his back legs shake so bad I think he might fall over.
Then she turns and pays Daisy for the flowers and trots back to the Boutique.
“You really shouldn’t have done that,” I say.
Dashie is laughing so hard she doesn’t even hear me. When she finally stops, she takes a drink and says, “You know, I still don’t get why you broke up with her.”
I start to shrink in on myself. How do I admit that most days I don’t get it either?
The “Out to Lunch” sign is still up on the Boutique’s door, even though everypony just saw Rarity go back home. The door is locked too, which is odd. Rarity usually doesn’t lock it during lunch if she’s home. I go to the kitchen door, which is open, and let myself in.
Opal comes to say hello and lets me know that Rarity is upstairs. I scratch her behind the ears and tell her she’s a good kitty before I make my way to Rarity’s bedroom. I probably shouldn’t have come, but I’m worried about her.
“Hello, darling,” she says from her seat at the work table. She doesn’t turn to look at me, which I would normally appreciate because it gives me time to think without feeling like she can read my mind, but this time it feels like a bad thing.
“Oh- umm. Hi.”
She stands up and takes bodice she was working on over to the mannequin. It’s beautiful, of course. It’s all strips of jeweled blue and green. The stitching is almost perfect. She really has gotten a lot better at stitching things by hoof. It’s a beautiful base for building something truly couture. I wonder when she started it.
“That looks nice,” I say.
“You really are too kind,” she takes a step back and gives it a glare. “It’s got some potential, but I’m not exactly certain where it’s going yet. Perhaps something with a headdress…”
“Rarity. I-”
“Fluttershy, darling, if the next words out of your mouth are about what happened in the market I’m afraid I don’t want to hear them. If you have a thought about my idea for the headdress, then I -of course- welcome your input. You have an eye for couture that would be very helpful just now.”
“Rarity,” I try to use my firm voice. “You didn’t have to do that. You didn’t have to miss your party for me. I know you were looking forward to it. Your beautiful dress…”
“The dress sold before I put it on the train to Canterlot, so there’s no need feeling guilty about my not getting to wear it. As for the party, it was my party to miss and what’s done is done, so there’s really nothing more to say on that score either.” She taps her red glasses on her chin as she continues to scrutinize the bodice. “It does scream something ‘peacock,’ does it not? But that’s so done. I couldn’t possibly take it that direction.”
The next thing I hear is the bodice ripping itself apart.
“Oh well,” Rarity sighs. “Perhaps in a different color.”
“Rarity! It was beautiful! Why did you do that?”
“There’s nopony to wear it, and I refuse to give in to that old plague of couture and design something inspired by a peacock. It’s every designer’s downfall. I refuse to be another cliche.”
I sit on my rump and pout. I know exactly who could have worn that design because I see her in the mirror every day, but Rarity hasn’t worked in blues or greens for months and it’s all my fault.
“Was there something else you needed, dearest?” she asks, looking at the little shelf of fabric now.
“I need you to look at me,” I answer on impulse and sound much braver than I feel. I want to tell her that I’m sorry. I want to apologize for putting her through all of this. I want to tell her that she’s being so brave and wonderful and I just don’t deserve it. I want her to get mad at me because I’m hurting her, but she won’t even look at me and that’s worse. She just keeps staring at the wall of fabric she won’t use because these are the fabrics she likes to use in designs for me.
“Rarity-”
“Fluttershy, stop.” Her voice is calm but firm. “I am making a very great effort not to be cross with you, darling. You know how I dislike being cross with you, but I feel that I am very near the edge of it now and I’d prefer not to cross over. So, please, just leave it be.”
“B-but why?”
She turns and her beautiful, sapphire eyes are filled with tears. “Because I am supposed to be your best friend! We spent hours together at the spa yesterday and you chose not to mention that you’ve been having trouble with somepony for weeks. I had to hear it from Rainbow Dash of all ponies!”
I shrink back from the pain in her voice. “I- I didn’t want to bother you,” I say lamely.
She rubs her forehead with her hoof and closes her eyes. “How many times must I tell you that you are never a bother? You are the most important pony in the world to me?” She opens her eyes to meet mine again. “You’ve made yourself clear that anything more than friendship between us isn’t possible. I understand that. I’ve accepted it, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you, Fluttershy. If somepony is bothering you, then I want to help. If you are scared or confused I want to be somepony you can talk to. That’s who I have always been.” Her ears fold back and a fresh wave of tears starts falling down her face. “Or that’s who I always thought I was.”
“Oh, Rarity,” I want to fly across the room and make it all better. I want to hug her and tell her the truth. I don’t want her to be sad anymore, but all I do is blink out my own tear and say, "I’m so sorry.”
She sniffs and wipes her face again. “It’s quite alright, darling. I have no right to know your personal business, of course. I only hope that in time you’ll let me prove to you that I can be trusted with these things. I do want you to be happy after all, even if it isn’t with me.”
But I want it to be with you.
I wish I had the guts to say it, but I don’t. So, I just mumble a thank you and find some reason to leave.
“Why did you break things off with her?” Applejack asks me. She’s taking a break from apple-bucking to talk to me and help me feel better.
“I wasn’t good for her,” I answer honestly because, even though I’m a pretty good liar, I never feel like I can lie to Applejack.
“What’s that supposed to mean? She loves you like apples love the sunshine. Seemed like you were pretty sweet on her too.”
“I was. I am. I’m just no good for her, Applejack.”
“How so?”
“She’s….Rarity.”
“Right, and you’re Fluttershy.”
“Exactly.”
“Girl, that don’t make one lick of sense. If she’s who you want and you’re who she wants, then what about you bein’ together ain’t good for y’all?”
I don’t try to hide the tears. There’s no point. They’ll just fall anyway and Applejack isn’t going to make me feel bad for crying. She’s just trying to understand, but I don’t think she can. She wasn’t there. She didn’t see.
“It’s hard to explain,” I finally manage to say. “But I know I’m right.”
“If you say so, sugarcube. Just seems like an awful lot of hurtin’ for somethin’ that’s supposed to be so right. Y’all been goin’ on like this for months. Seems like Rare’s been doin’ her best to do what you wanted, but I gotta be honest Shy; it’s startin’ to seem like you’re messin’ her around a bit by not lettin’ her be your friend when you said that’s what you wanted and that just ain’t fair.”
“I know. It’s awful. I just don’t know how to be her friend without...ruining everything.”
Applejack pulls me into a strong side-hug. “I ain’t gonna say I understand it, because I don’t, but I am gonna say that if there’s any two ponies that can figure out how to be friends after goin’ through somethin’ like this then it’s y’all. Just try and relax Shy. Rare ain’t askin’ you for more than that.”
“Ok.”
“Are you sure about this?” Twilight asks from behind me where she’s finishing closing the clasp on my dress.
“Yes,” I answer easily. “I can’t imagine not being here for her tonight.”
“She didn’t think you’d want to come.”
She was right. Rarity is always right. Of course, I didn’t want to come to the opening night of fashion week! But she got the best slot this year. It’s a huge honor. It’s going to be so good for her business. I wouldn’t want to miss this for the world. Even if I am going to spend the entire evening hiding behind my friends.
Plus, I know my being here will help her. I don’t model anymore, but everypony in fashion still seems to know me. Anytime I show up to an event it ends up in the paper. So, if my being here can help Rarity sell more dresses, then I want to do that for her. I want to help her.
I turn and look at the rest of my friends. They all look wonderful. Rarity made them new dresses for tonight. She made mine too and hid it on a rack in her inspiration room. Pinkie Pie had to sneak in and steal it for me. Even without a fitting, Rarity knows my measurements perfectly, the dress fits better than a glove. It’s light and flows with me when I move. It makes me wish I still did runway. It would photograph beautifully. Perhaps, just this once, I’ll try and work the red carpet just a little.
“Rarity! Rarity!” The reporters are all calling out to her. She giggles and points a hoof to one of her favorites from an independent magazine in Manehatten.
“Rarity! Simply stunning collection, as always. A definite turn from your usual style. The focused colors. What was your inspiration?”
He’s right. The show was unlike anything she’d ever done before. She’s almost notorious for using a huge palette of bold colors and embellishing almost everything she sends down the runway in gems, but this show was demure. The pale pinks and yellows flowing over the top of shimmering greens and deep aquas.
“Love, darling,” she answers. Then asks rhetorically, “What else is there?”
It’s a nice party. Fleur invited me. She and I only worked together a couple of times and I was really intimidated because she was so flirty, but I still really like her. She’s a nice pony. And Fancy Pants is very kind in his way. He made sure there was this little table set up outside just for me, so I could enjoy the garden without anypony bothering me.
“May I join you?” Rarity asks quietly from the bottom step of the veranda.
“Of course,” I answer standing and tucking my mane back into place. “Would you like a drink? I can go get you one.”
“That’s kind of you to offer, but I didn’t ask to join you just to have you run off,” she says with a little grin.
“Oh. I didn’t mean- I just- I wanted to-”
“Shh. I’m teasing you, darling. I’m sure somepony will be by with a tray in a moment. There’s no need to go searching for refreshment. I only meant to enjoy the company of a good friend, if that’s alright.”
“That sounds wonderful,” I sigh myself back into my seat and look around the garden again.
“Lovely,” she hums and sits down across from me. I’m careful not to look, but there’s definitely a seat closer she could have taken. It makes me a little sad that she didn’t.
“That dress looks stunning on you,” she says after a few minutes silence. “Wherever did you get it?”
“Oh- a friend of mine... stole it for me.”
“Indeed,” she laughs and floats a champagne flute down from a passing tray. “Would you like one?” she offers.
“Yes, please.” She glides one over to me and I take a little sip. It’s delicious as always. “I forgot how much I could enjoy one of Mr. Fancy Pants’ parties,” I hum.
“I’ll have to tell him you said so, he’ll be so pleased. He mentioned missing you at his last event.”
“He did?”
“Of course. You brighten any room you’re in, darling. And you give him a reason to be certain that some corner of the party is peaceful and beautiful. He likes the challenge.”
I blush. “That’s sweet of him.”
“You know he ventured a guess about why you felt we couldn’t stay together.”
“He did?” I gulp. She and I haven’t ever talked about it. We weren’t together very long. Just about a month or so. One day at the spa she told me how she felt and we started dating. She was so patient with me. She was every bit the patient, gentlepony she’d always wanted for herself. Then, after a party not so different from this one, I told her I couldn’t do it anymore and asked if we could just go back to being friends.
I could see how much it hurt her, even though she didn’t cry or yell at me. She just blinked and said, “Of course, darling, if that’s what you want.”
I didn’t realize until tonight how much she was struggling to let me go.
“Yes,” she answers quietly.
“What did he guess?”
“He supposed that you worried you’d hold me back.”
I flinch at the accuracy.
“He guessed that after attending that party together you realized exactly how many more parties there might be, given my aspirations, and you determined that you wouldn’t limit my chances by asking me to hide in the garden again.”
It was true. That’s exactly what happened. She’d spent that entire wonderful night in the royal garden with me. We hadn’t even spoken very much. We just walked and nuzzled. She kissed me in the moonlight beneath the stars. It was wonderful and perfect.
Then on our way out of the party, a very important pony from one of the fashion magazines got her attention and said they were sorry they hadn’t had a chance to talk. Rarity had to make some excuse and set up a time to meet them for lunch another day. That’s when I knew.
“I knew I couldn’t ask you to do that,” I whisper into the darkness, confirming the truth of Mr. Fancy Pants’ guess. “I knew I’d never be able to keep up with you or to enjoy the life you want to build for yourself, Rarity. But I want that for you. I want you to have every dream come true.”
She downs the rest of her champagne in one, sighs, and then stands. “Will you walk with me?” she asks.
I have to look at her to make sure she’s serious. She doesn’t sound mad or even sad. She sounds a little amused and it’s got me curious. “S-sure.” I take one more quick sip of my drink and stand up to walk beside her.
“It really is a lovely garden, isn’t it?” she says as we turn a corner to a little rose garden.
“It’s nice,” I answer.
“Nothing compared to the Royal Canterlot Gardens, of course.”
“But still nice.”
There’s a long stretch of gravel path in front of us that makes me think of a runway and reminds me of how I felt about this dress earlier.
“Rarity?”
“Hmm?”
“Could you just stand there for a moment? I want to try something.”
“Certainly, darling. Is everything alright?”
“Yes, I just…” I look down at my dress. “Feel like ‘walking.’ This dress deserves it.” I smile.
She sits down in the grass and waves at the path. “Then by all means,” she says like any designer auditioning a model. “Walk for me.”
I haven’t really walked in a long time. I haven’t really modeled since before she told me how she felt. We were so busy dating after she told me that she didn’t have me model anything, and after I ended things I think she felt uncomfortable asking me.
A few flaps of my wings take me far enough down the path for a good runway walk back. I carefully fold my wings back to my sides and let them hang slightly lower than normal. She stitched a lovely set of intricate ribbons down the bodice at my spine that I want to show off. I take a deep breath and raise my head, extending my neck just the right amount. I rock back and forth on my hooves a little, searching for that lightness. It’s somewhere between prancing and floating. I close my eyes for just a moment and listen to the rustling of leaves and an owl hooting somewhere in the darkness.
My eyes open when my first step crunches firmly in the gravel and I lock my gaze on hers. My modeling days were filled with praise for how shy and demure I was, but that’s not the dress she made me for tonight. It’s probably the reason she didn’t give me the dress herself. This dress was made to show me off. It flutters around my knees so my legs, which were once so ungainly, appear even longer. The detailing along my spine extends down the back and flows through my tail. This dress has a gentle movement that was made just for me. So, I move. I move just for her.
After the first few proud steps, I tuck my chin and blush. She’s being careful with her face, but she can’t hide the look in her eyes. She doesn’t have to say that she thinks I’m beautiful. She’s already telling me.
I unfold my wings in a half-flare when I reach the point that would be the end of the runway. Then I do a quarter turn and peak back at her through my primaries before starting the walk back. I close my eyes for the last few steps and enjoy the feeling. I never wanted to model for an audience or a photographer. I only ever wanted to model for her and I’ve missed it.
When I turn back, she isn’t alone. All of our friends are there and Rainbow is whistling at me. Applejack cuffs her on the head to make her stop. Rarity’s eyes are still locked on mine and I can see her tears from here.
It’s late. I probably shouldn’t be here, but I can’t sleep. I was wrong. I can do whatever she wants. I can be whatever she wants. I can’t believe I hurt her like this. I can’t believe I made her wait for almost a year, so I could figure out that I love her too. I love what she wants and I love who she is and I love how hard she’s willing to work to make it happen. I just have to convince her to give me a second chance.
I’m about knock lightly on the door, when I look up and notice that her bedroom window is open. So, I flutter up and knock on the window instead. “Um...Rarity?”
She looks up from her book, a little startled, but not as much as I thought she’d be. “Yes, darling? Is everything alright?”
“May I come in?”
“Of course.”
“I thought you might be asleep.”
“It has been a very long day, but I haven’t quite got my mind to settle. All the energy of a show, you know.”
“It was lovely.”
“Thank you, darling. It was wonderful to see you walk. I didn’t thank you properly for sharing that with me.”
“Rainbow and Pinkie didn’t really give you much of a chance,” I laugh a little.
She chuckles too. “No, I don’t suppose they did.”
I look up from the floor. She’s staring down at her book, fiddling with the bent corner of one of the pages.
“Rarity?”
“Hmm?”
“Look at me please.”
She looks up and I see it. I see the hope. She doesn’t want me to see it, in case she’s wrong; in case I’m here to hurt her again. I don’t want her to ever look at me like that again. I never want her to hide her hope from me. I walk around the bed and sit on the floor in front her. I reach for the book and place it on the side table.
“Fluttershy,” she whispers desperately. “Please don’t do this to me if you aren’t certain. I won’t blame you if you need more time, or if you genuinely prefer to simply be friends. Just, please, don’t do this if you’re just going to leave me again.”
“I’m not leaving,” I whisper back.
When our eyes meet again, there’s still a thin veil over her hope. She doesn’t believe me yet, and I can’t blame her. I’ll just have to show her. I lean forward and brush her cheek with my hoof. I hear her breath catch at my touch. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” I say. “I promise I’ll never do it again.”
Then I close the distance between our mouths and I kiss her. I kiss her like I never could before. I was so shocked when she said that she liked me that I started dating her without asking myself how I felt about her. When I realized how intimidated I was by the life she wanted I ran away, but now I know what I want. I want walks in gardens. I want her to dress me up in fabrics she only orders because they’ll look good on me. I want to teach her to sing with the birds. I want to show her colors and patterns that only nature can make.
She’s breathless when our lips part and so am I.
“Please tell me you’d like to stay,” she says with her eyes closed.
I climb on the bed and settle myself on top of her. I lean so my lips brush her ear as I answer, “I’d like to stay forever if you’ll have me.”
I watch the chill shudder along her spine before I kiss her again and let myself feel all the things I’ve spent the last year believing I couldn’t have.
Author's Note
This was just an idea I had to scribble out. I needed a dose of Flarity and this is what came out. I hope you enjoyed it.
Thanks for reading.
