The Dao of Fluttershy

Chapters

I. An Appointment Neglected
II. A Garden Forgotten
III. A Nest Emptied
IV. An Exit In Order
V. A Friendship Deepened

I. An Appointment Neglected

When the awful rumbling sound loosed itself disdainfully from her stomach – seemingly growing in intensity until it felt as though the entire shop was shaking on its foundations – Rarity sensed her ivory muzzle turn bright crimson and she remembered one important fact: Fluttershy was always late.
In fact, she found herself thinking as the delicate lines of her snout tightened in irritation, if Twilight Sparkle does ever get around to rewriting The Book of Universal Truths she could add that little gem right next to the one about most of Equestria's problems only needing about half an hour to solve, or a whole hour if they're particularly vexing, and the one about Rainbow Dash always finding exactly the wrong thing to say to the wrong pony at the wrong time. Her muzzle refused to uncrease itself when, for what seemed like the eightieth time, Rarity ignited her horn and sifted through the various magazines that had been delivered to Carousel Boutique earlier that morning. She fancied that she now knew more about the grapes of Baltimare's wine-growing region than she did about whip-stitching … and whip-stitches were one of her favourite types of stitching.

It wasn't that she was bothered by the pegasus' tardiness as such, even if it did mean that she ended up eating far more than she'd intended for lunch; being fashionably late was a much-lauded skill in certain social skills, particularly those ones that Rarity often found herself navigating, after all. She knew that Fluttershy's job kept her busy. There were many animals in and around Ponyville that needed tending to whenever they were sick or injured, and her sideline work in monitoring the plethora of amazing and terrifying creatures which resided within the confines of the mysterious Everfree Forest would've been a full-time career for most all by itself, meant that she was constantly occupied. More than once, Fluttershy's friends had come to visit only to find her half-starved and half-exhausted because she'd expended so much energy on her charges that she'd simply forgotten that she had to make time to care for herself every now and then.

Releasing a pent-up breath, Rarity shuffled the magazines once more, placing them back on the table in the lobby while she tried desperately not to pace back and forth; as much as she hated to admit it, least of all to herself, she was worried about her friend … and that worry tended to manifest itself as a compulsion to re-order the stock of her shop simply to get her reeling mind to shut up for an hour. As she worked at sorting the dresses, she reflected bitterly that she'd already done this no more than week ago and it was difficult to improve upon perfection.

Still, she tried.

Fluttershy was an animal carer par excellence; Rarity doubted that anypony in Equestria could match the sheer depth and breadth of her knowledge, and even if she did give off the impression that she was nothing more than a weak and helpless wallflower nothing could have been further from the truth. One only had to look at her greatest work, Discord – and frankly, it wasn't as if you were given much of a choice as the draconequus did not quite grasp the meaning of the word subtle – to understand that. To know that, as sweet as she was, there was a very fine edge of steel to Fluttershy that one did not want to be on the receiving end of.

Knowing that, thought Rarity, shuffling a sparkly green dress back and forth several times on the rack, why do I still have this quiver of anxiety gnawing away at me?

Pausing in her quite pointless task, Rarity felt a prickly twinge of guilt creeping along her spine; that question was easy enough to answer, even though doing so sent a wave of shame surging through her body. So powerful was it that it temporarily disrupted her magical control and the blue-ish aura surrounding her horn – to say nothing of several expensive dresses it encompassed – dissipated without warning, sending them scattering to the floor. With a grunt of annoyance, she bent to retrieve them, glad of the fact that she was alone. In spite of her best efforts to do otherwise, she still saw Fluttershy as the weak and helpless filly that she appeared to so many others to be.

With the dresses smoothed out and restored to some semblance of order, Rarity tried to push her mean thoughts about Fluttershy aside; even though they had gone through innumerable adventures together, and even though she had seen just how tough the little pegasus could be when pushed, Rarity could not disabuse herself of the notion that she really was just a timid little mouse who needed to be constantly babysat. Unfortunately, it did not ease her conscience one iota to know that their other friends held much the same opinion regarding Fluttershy. If anything, that knowledge only made things worse.

We try so hard to be more than the stereotypes that ponies have about us, but in the end that's all they'll ever remember us for. I wonder if Fluttershy knows that this is how we think about her. Would she be grateful for our concern, or would she be annoyed because all we're doing is patronising her? Much more likely, she'd simply politely refuse to talk to us about it, go off and sulk on her own – or to that infernal rabbit of hers – before carrying on as if nothing had even happened.

Slumping into a chair and frowning, Rarity's thoughts turned to the practical difficulties of having an introvert for a best friend; just between her and her diary, she had often mused that it was as if she'd been given the responsibility of caring for an extremely precious, extremely fragile, jewel: on the one hoof, she wanted to polish it to a brilliant sparkle, for it to shine brightly and to be admired by as many ponies as possible, but the slightest mistake in handling it could see it shattering into a thousand disparate pieces, never to be cherished by anypony ever again.

Fluttershy's happiness was foremost on her mind, and that required bending to her wishes to not be pressured into situations which might require close contact with other, strange ponies. Given that she could barely open up to her closest friends, this was only logical, and could be tolerated up to a point. That said, if she could just take a chance, spread her wings – literally as well as figuratively – be brave, try new things, and maybe even push herself to meet new ponies … well, who knew what could happen? Loathe as she was to admit it, even privately to her diary, Rarity wished that Rainbow Dash's exuberant influence could have rubbed-off on Fluttershy even just a little bit.

Once upon a time, Twilight, after swallowing a book on astronomy, had described Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash as defining a Lagrange Point: two perfectly counterbalanced forces keeping each other in check with neither one exerting enough influence over the other to gain the upper-hoof. Basically, they stopped each other from giving into their more extreme impulses. Maybe it was wrong to tamper with that? Maybe pushing Fluttershy to be more outspoken would only ruin their dynamic?

I really need a glass of red wine if I'm going to contemplate such things, Rarity thought with a wry grin forming on her perfectly made-up muzzle. Her eyes alighted upon one of the magazine covers depicting an elegantly-dressed couple descending a grand marble staircase. Has Fluttershy ever been on a date in the entire time that I've known her? Probably not, unless she's been keeping them a secret from me.

A few months ago, one of her regular customers had happened to let slip the fact that he was newly-single; like Fluttershy, he was something of a self-observer, and he was also interested in animals, so it would've been a perfect match. In Rarity's much-vaunted opinion, anyway. Fluttershy had never said anything about being lonely as long as she had her friends and her menagerie at home to look after, but surely she wanted something more than that? The faintest ghost of a smirk tugged at the corners of Rarity's mouth as she recalled broaching the subject with Fluttershy one day.

She had mentioned all of this to her, and while he wasn't the best-looking of ponies, she figured that Fluttershy wasn't all that big on external appearances, anyway. He was nice, he was sweet, and wasn't that all that mattered? Fluttershy herself was absolutely gorgeous, but she'd never had to work for it; other than for special occasions, she didn't bother with make-up, and Rarity had always been secretly envious of the fact that she spent hours trying to recreate what the pegasus had been given by birth alone. If Fluttershy had kept up her modelling career, doubtless she'd be one of the richest, most famous ponies in Equestria by now.

Well.

She already has the fame-part, though the ponies around here are decent enough not to harp on about having saved the world half a dozen times now.

When Rarity had suggested setting up a date with him, however, Fluttershy had simply given her a lopsided glance with the sort of expression on her face that one might have used had they proposed eating a live cragadile and so Rarity had shelved any future plans to set her friend up.

Maybe she just wasn't interested in dating? It was certainly possible, though Rarity wasn't so sure about that; while she'd never seen her romantically-involved with another pony, Twilight Sparkle had once mentioned that, in addition to the expected books on animal care and similar subjects, Fluttershy most often borrowed romantic novels from the library. Rarity guessed that the pegasus had, as with her singing – until she'd convinced her to join the Pony Tones, anyway – simply compartmentalised away her feelings because of her belief that she was just not good enough, reducing herself to living out her fantasies vicariously.

Shaking herself loose from her sour thoughts, Rarity stood up and her eyes drifted toward the clock; Fluttershy was now more than an hour late, and that was excessive by even her standards. Normally, if she was going to be delayed for this long, or if she was going to cancel their meeting altogether, she would've gotten a note to her by now in order to let her know of the change in plans. Not that she was expecting anything, Rarity nonetheless hurried into the lobby just in case such a message had been delivered but she'd been too wrapped up in her introspection to notice.

Nothing.

Something is wrong, said one part of Rarity's gut.

I'm hungry, another, altogether more impatient part, said, let's just go to lunch without her.

Tempting though it was to grab a bite to eat right now, Rarity knew that she would not feel at ease doing so until she'd actually gone to Fluttershy's cottage in order to check up on her errant friend. Maybe she was being a Mother Hen, but right now that hardly mattered to her; over the years, whether it was something as simple as deciding upon which stitch to use to hem a dress with or something as complex as her dealings with her friends, Rarity had long ago learned to trust her instincts, and they were telling her now that something was wrong with the pegasus. It wouldn't have mattered if they were warning her about Applejack or Rainbow Dash, her reaction would have been the same.

Except.

The feeling is about Fluttershy, and that absolutely DOES make a difference to things, doesn't it?

Not even stopping to grab her saddlebags, Rarity practically bounded out of the front door and started off in the direction of Fluttershy's cottage at a brisk trot, all the while trying to push the nagging sensation of something horrible having happened to her to the back of her mind.

II. A Garden Forgotten

Rarity was grateful for the fact that Fluttershy's cottage wasn't so far away from Carousel Boutique; at walking speed, the journey could be made in under ten minutes, but what Rarity was doing definitely wasn't walking. She barely even had time to notice the dramatic changes to the landscape wrought by the oncoming autumnal months. The bright, optimistic greens had given way to sombre, placid browns, and though the temperatures hadn't yet plummeted there was still the faintest trace of a chill in the air.

Maybe it was just her imagination. Or maybe it was because of the lurking presence of the Everfree Forest, with all of it's attendant riddles and dangers. How a pony as faint-of-heart as Fluttershy could make her home here of all places still baffled Rarity.

Pausing for breath, her eyes turned to the cottage itself; nowhere more so than it's bulky edifice were the changes wrought by the rapidly-approaching fall more apparent, and it took Rarity a second longer than usual to recognise it as her friend's house. It resembled nothing so much as an enormous tree that somepony had, over time, whittled into the shape of a fairly roomy dwelling. Its previous owner, she knew, had also been a vet and he had taken Fluttershy under his wing after her tumultuous arrival in Ponyville. Following his retirement, he had elected to gift her the property.

Instead of the thatched roofs which were more common about town, the cottage appeared to be covered in a protective layer of moss; as with the many trees which dotted the grounds – festooned liberally with bird-houses – this, too, had turned a deep shade of brown. It would, in time, resume its usual leafy green appearance, but Rarity rather appreciated the reminder that ponies could adapt the environment to their own ends without having to dramatically alter it and make it impossible for their fellow creatures to thrive there.

Over the years, numerous hidey-holes, burrows, and various other nooks and crannies had been hollowed out – some by Fluttershy herself, but mostly by the various animals which also called this part of town home – and one had to watch their step lest they end up, literally, putting their hoof in it. Of course, not all of them were permanent residents of these parts; some of them were content to drop-by now and again when they needed Fluttershy's help, or if they simply missed the pleasure of her company. Fluttershy's cottage was a welcome respite for weary travellers, no matter who or what they might be.

How much of that calming influence was down to the abundance of nature to be found here, or whether it was because of Fluttershy's warm presence, Rarity could not say. All she could say was that there were few places in Ponyville – indeed, Equestria as a whole – where one could feel as truly at peace as they could here. Right now, however, as her detective's eye roved over the scene in front of her and her mind tried to get a grip on what it was that was bothering her, peace was the furthest thing from her mind.

If you didn't look too closely, you would have been forgiven for thinking that nothing seemed to be amiss, but to one who had spent so long training themselves to notice every tiny thread in a complex garment the clues hidden amongst the seeming mundanity around her were writ as large as any torn seam would be. The lack of animal noise, for a start: even accounting for the possibility that most of them were asleep or hunting for food, there should have been something.

Secondly, the garden was a mess; Fluttershy was the sort of pony who liked to keep a tidy house in order to make her guests feel more comfortable – to say nothing of keeping a better eye on her smaller animals who might get lost under loose debris – but leaves, twigs and other fallen detritus had built up a sizeable impediment to her front door.

Finally, though it wasn't cold and the moss made the cottage prone to high humidity which was bad news for some of the more delicate animals, all of the windows were closed; more than that, the curtains were tightly-drawn, too.

Rarity made a noise in the back of her throat. She guessed that Fluttershy hadn't been outside of the cottage all day, and that she wasn't planning on being outside of the cottage for the rest of the day either; whatever she was up to – or, despite her best efforts not to let her thoughts go down this path, whatever had happened to her – it was so important, so secret, and so sudden, that she'd broken off an engagement that she'd been looking forward to all week with absolutely no warning whatsoever.

I should just go, she thought resignedly, turning away from the cottage, and leave her to it.

She was about to do just that, but the raw shard of concern that had so ensnared her stomach refused to loose its icy grip on her; Fluttershy did not possess either the flightiness of a Rainbow Dash nor the capriciousness of a Pinkie Pie, so it was nigh-impossible for her to have so sudden a change of heart about something. It was not beyond the realm of reason that something had come up, of course, but Fluttershy was so unfailingly polite and well-mannered that, even if it cost precious time to do so, she would have informed her friends of an unexpected change in plans somehow.

Maybe I'm just annoyed because, next to our spa dates, this is the only time that we can actually get together with none of our other friends around and talk about girly stuff without being teased for it.

Taking a sharp breath which only served to deepen her sense of apprehension rather than the quantity of air in her lungs, Rarity hesitantly, carefully, negotiated the debris-strewn path over the small bridge to Fluttershy's front door. Swallowing, she raised a hoof and knocked tentatively. The deep, resonant sound of clunking wood was far too loud in the stillness, and Rarity felt her ear twitching in sympathy with the vibration. Despite straining to her maximum limits, she could not hear even a mouse skittering about within the cottage, however.

It was empty.

Empty in a way that was not just unusual, but frightening and Rarity felt her blood run cold. Even if Fluttershy wasn't in, Angel Bunny would be there holding the fort. Her house had been carefully locked-down, and that suggested to Rarity that her sudden disappearance hadn't happened in a hurry, so … why hadn't she told anypony where she was going and what she was doing, least of all her? She found herself caught in two minds as to what the right thing to do was: leave and come back later, or stay and investigate? Her muzzle darkening by several shades, Rarity hopped from one hoof to the other, silently cursing the ridiculous situation in which she'd found herself embroiled.

Hefting a pent-up sigh into the hushed air, she knocked, much louder than before, once more. To her immense surprise, the door creaked open slightly due to the firmer contact.

Oh. Well. That changes things, doesn't it?

Did it, though? There was so little in the way of crime in Ponyville – certainly not any thieves or burglars, not that Fluttershy had any valuables beyond the purely sentimental trinkets that she'd collected over the years – that nopony was particularly religious about locking their doors if they were only going to be away from home for a matter of hours. Rarity frowned, knowing that she only had her gut to rely on and knowing that there was likely a perfectly innocent explanation for all of this. She tried to tell herself that Fluttershy had been called out on some urgent business in the Everfree Forest before she'd really had a chance to open up her house, and that her coterie of animals were out and about, and that haste had prevented her from closing the door properly.

Nothing more to it than that, right?

Doubtless, she would be back soon, apologising profusely for not having gotten word to Rarity sooner about the change of plans. Perfectly logical, perfectly likely.

Yeah, that was definitely it.

Definitely. Definitely. Definitely.

It didn't matter how many times Rarity told herself that, she just could not shake the feeling that something darker was going on.

Pushing the door open further, Rarity caught sight of the heavy iron sliding deadbolt; it had been split in half by some tremendous force, and that sealed the deal for her. Overcome with concern for her friend, she went inside.

III. A Nest Emptied

Just as the grounds around Fluttershy's cottage had been, the interior was as equally lacking in life; what little of the cold blue light that was able to seep in through the minute gaps in the curtains illuminated a depressing, sterile tableau that couldn't be more anathema to the usual vigour which ran through the dwelling. It was a monument to apathetic loneliness. If it hadn't been for a couple of stray yellow hairs clinging to the settee in the living room, one might have got the impression that the place hadn't been lived in for years.

“Fluttershy?” she asked quietly of the empty room. “Angel? Are either of you in here?”

Her guard up, Rarity pushed further into the lounge, suppressing an inward shudder as she did so. There were no signs of a struggle, which was good, but something felt off to her all the same. It just wasn't right to see the place like this: everything was neat and orderly. Too neat and too orderly. While she was not as fond of critters – bar her beloved cat, Opalescence – as Fluttershy, she was perturbed by their persistent absence. A quick glance at the floor revealed not a single crumb, nor an errant flake of food, suggesting to Rarity that they had been ushered out in an organised manner. Whatever it was that Fluttershy was up to, it was something which had required absolute solitude. Something which had compelled her, much as it would've pained her to do so, to exile her cherished animals.

She moved through the small hallway into the kitchen and found it to be in much the same state; glittering silver pots and pans hanging on the walls, plates and bowls stacked on the shelves, packages of food labelled in neat handwriting stored away in cupboards. There were no signs to suggest that anything had been used recently. Had Fluttershy just upped and left without warning? It was rare for a pony to do so, especially without a good reason, but there were stories of those who had done just that.

An idle thought flashed through Rarity's mind and she stopped what she was doing until she could pin it down; she clenched her jaw, recalling the details of a hundred detective novels that she'd read while growing-up: the lonely, tortured private investigator studying a scene much like this one – all of a pony's affairs tidied away carefully, rooms kept meticulously clean so that they could be immediately reused, a friend who seemed to be in good spirits suddenly altering a plan without any prior warning – and coming to one inescapable conclusion.

Rarity felt a cold sweat trickle down her spine and she bit softly on her bottom lip.

No, I'm wrong about this. I have to be! Fluttershy is absolutely not the sort of pony who would do something so drastic. Trying to quieten her racing mind, Rarity wondered exactly how many other ponies had thought that exact same thing before stumbling across a loved one who had chosen to end their suffering in the only manner that made any sense to them.

No.

True, Fluttershy's soul was a sensitive one, but she was not so easily broken; Rarity racked her brain, trying to find any evidence – any statement which might've seemed innocuous at the time – to support her wild conclusion and drew a blank. It just wasn't possible.

Was it?

Taking several cleansing breaths, Rarity tried to calm her racing pulse; she was just being silly, overreacting because of the influence of so many trashy books. Real life didn't follow such a spurious narrative. There was a simple explanation for all of this and she was going to find it!

“What was that?”

The sound didn't repeat itself immediately and for half a second Rarity thought that she'd just imagined it, so overcome was she by a rising sense of dread, but then she heard it again and it set her teeth on edge when it did. A gentle sloshing of water from the upstairs bathroom.

All ladylike pretence deserted her in that moment; she felt as if her worst fears had just been confirmed, and her adrenaline took over, kicking her last vestiges rationality to the curb. She took the steps three at a time, tripping over so often that she was quite certain that all four of her shins were going to be covered in bruises come tomorrow morning, but she just didn't care. As soon as Rarity reached the landing, she sprinted across the hard wood floor and practically kicked down the door – it was unlocked, but she hadn't known that at the time and wouldn't have cared if she did – silently grateful for the fact that she'd kept up with her martial arts training over the years.

“Fluttershy?”

No answer.

If you were a first-time visitor to Fluttershy's bathroom, your eyes would quite naturally be drawn to the outsize reinforced solid oak tub that she'd had specially made to accommodate her larger animal companions; it was the first thing that Rarity noticed, too, but not because of its sheer enormity. Contained within it, submerged beneath the crystal clear water, was a yellow figure, eyes closed as if in sleep.

She looked serene.

Angelic.

Long strands of hair formed a fuzzy pink aura around her slender body; her wings were fully extended, though they were plastered heavily against the sides of the tub. Had they unravelled themselves of their own accord in a last-gasp attempt to save her?

Trepidation marring her every step, Rarity approached the tub. “Fluttershy, are you … awake?” She scanned the pegasus' body quickly, looking for any signs of injury – concentrating especially on her ankles – and found nothing. Perhaps she'd …? “Fluttershy?”

“No response.”

Carefully, she reached into the water and wrapped her hooves around the back of Fluttershy's neck. Gently, reverentially almost, Rarity lifted her free of the water and her eyes snapped open.

She looked at Rarity, beryl meeting soft blue and registering confusion.

“Fluttershy, darling,” Rarity said with extraordinary calmness as she eased the pegasus' head the rest of the way out of the water, making sure to keep her sodden hair out of her eyes, “do be a dear and please tell me why you found it necessary to try and drown yourself?”

IV. An Exit In Order

“I'm sorry about this,” Fluttershy said patiently, planting her hooves carefully on the floor so as not to trample any of the departing guests, forming her lips into a slight pout as she ushered the last of the recalcitrant animals toward the front door, “but it is just for the rest of the day, okay? Tomorrow, everything will be back to normal, I promise.”

She leaned down, craning her neck until she was eye-level with a tiny yet fiery dormouse who was proving to be one stubborn rodent. It was only natural, Fluttershy realised, knowing how small creatures like this one were afraid to be out in the open air for too long lest they become the victims of a larger predator. Ponyville wasn't exactly teeming with birds-of-prey or the like – save the ones that she cared for – but one didn't survive long in the wild if they were willing to take stupid chances.

Fluttershy's cottage was a home-from-home for many, and their little nests were just too cosy to abandon all of a sudden, but they grudgingly did so, not quite understanding what mad impulse was pushing their usually courteous hostess to kick them out like this.

Standing at the threshold, the dormouse offered a few parting squeaks punctuated by an exasperated flailing of his tiny arms. Fluttershy felt an embarrassed blush break out across her muzzle. “Language,” she said, admonishing him with a scolding tone, glad of the fact that nopony was around to hear his embittered tirade against her. He didn't mean it, of course, he was just upset, but his tone was no less brutal for that. “Any more talk like that and I'll see to it that you'll no longer have your pick of the nuts and berries when you get back,” she added, widening her eyes just a little bit to let him know that she meant business.

Few animals dared to oppose the Stare Master.

Suitably chastised, the cheeky dormouse made an apologetic noise before scrambling out the door as quickly as his little legs could carry him. Angel Bunny watched him flee with an amused look on his face.

“Always the last to go, aren't you?” said Fluttershy warmly, embracing her stalwart companion.

Always the last, and always the most difficult to say goodbye to. He knew Fluttershy better than anypony – perhaps better than her closest pony friends – but even he didn't know what these odd moods meant; the alarming levels of secrecy involved were a source of puzzlement to him, and he desperately wished that she would offer him some kind of explanation. Perhaps she didn't want him to worry? Worry was exactly what he did, however, even though he and the other animals would always return the next day with everything as it was.

Such was his respect for her that, despite how much he ached to do so, Angel always complied with Fluttershy's request not to come sneaking back into the house to find out. She had promised him that it was nothing dangerous, merely unusual, and that it was best accomplished in solitude.

“You be a good bunny, okay?” she said, nuzzling her cheek affectionately against the top of Angel's head, letting loose a soft but hearty giggle as his long ears tickled under her chin. “And I'll see you in the morning.”

The rabbit responded with a sullen look which suggested that being good was the opposite of what he had in mind, but Fluttershy merely smiled gently at him, knowing that he didn't mean it; as cantankerous and as troublesome as he could be, he was not misnamed: Angel Bunny had a heart of solid gold and he would look out for the other animals during this short period of exile from the cottage while she tended to her arcane ritual. For whatever reason, she could not or would not expose others to this side of her, and it was his job to see to it that her seclusion was not disrupted for the duration. His expression quickly softened and his eyes began to water. As much as he was able to, he threw his arms around Fluttershy's neck, hoping that he would not be parted from her warmth for too long.

When at last the bunny was gone, Fluttershy released the breath that she didn't even realise she was holding in and twisted her neck until she was able to see her own cutie mark; there was nothing particularly special about it – three bright blue butterflies with pink wings – save that it was hers, and that, more so than seemed to be the case with most ponies, it had some kind of hold on her. Though she tried her best, she couldn't even recall when it had first begun.

Shaking her head, she headed upstairs and ran a bath despite the fact that she'd showered earlier in the day in preparation for her meeting with … oh, no.

Rarity. Fluttershy padded into the hall and looked at the cuckoo clock hanging there; she was supposed to be meeting her friend for lunch in about ten minutes, and there was no time to get a message to her to cancel. She should've sent Angel Bunny with a note, but she'd been so wrapped up in shooing the animals and tidying up after Harry's little episode that the appointment had completely slipped her mind until now.

For just the briefest of moments, she considered leaving the cottage and going to Rarity, but every nerve in her body screamed otherwise. Fluttershy shut her eyes tightly, wishing for the millionth time that she could be free of this, whatever this was. She simply settled for hoping that Rarity would be understanding about her non-appearance.

These urges, as she had taken to calling the forces which gripped her body in these moments, could only be controlled – ignored – for a short time before they began to dominate her every waking moment. Crying out for attention until she acquiesced and gave them what they wanted. What this was all leading to, if anything, she had no idea, but she doubted that it was just some random act of cutie mark magic designed to make her life miserable. There had to be some purpose behind it?

Didn't there?

None of the books in the library about cutie marks in particular or magic in general had yielded much in the way of results; she'd considered the possibility of talking to Twilight Sparkle about it, but the newest Equestrian princess had so much on her plate at the moment between the castle, the new title, and the events of the mirror world that it seemed wrong to burden her with one more thing to worry about. Her other friends, well … they were all lovely ponies in their own way, and they would doubtless be sympathetic, but she didn't want their pity. If they couldn't even understand the problem that she was presenting them with, how could they possibly hope to help her with it? No. It was simply something that she had to sort out on her own.

In a way, she was glad about Harry's fevered outburst; not because of the illness itself or the effect it had on the poor bear's equanimity, but there were numerous small repairs and modifications that needed to be made to make the cottage more convivial for her other animals, and now they could be carried out in the wake of the minor carnage he had caused. Plus, having the rooms tidied and everything within neatly ordered helped to create the sort of meditative atmosphere that she was looking for. With the windows and doors sealed – though the deadbolt for the front door had been one of Harry's unfortunate victims – Fluttershy returned to the bathroom and her tub full of clear, lukewarm water.

As always, when she got to this stage, she felt much of her apprehension beginning to dissipate and her breathing became much less laboured; whether it was because of her cutie mark or because she now had a rough idea of what was to come, Fluttershy couldn't quite say, but she simply surrendered herself to what it wanted. In some strange way, she knew that she didn't matter any more and that she was merely a conduit for something that did matter.

She dipped a toe into the water and found it pleasant enough; soon enough, she scrambled awkwardly inside the tub and allowed herself to float on the surface for a moment. The bath was big enough to comfortably hold three average-sized ponies – though she knew it was unlikely that she'd ever get to find out if that was really true or not – and she allowed her body to stretch out, to relax. Even at full stretch, her legs didn't quite touch the sides.

Her damp wings unfurled, fluttering a couple of times and sending ripples of water cascading over the side.

Well, this is it. Here I am. Do what you will. I just wish you'd tell me what it is that you really want.

Her head sank under the water, but she kept her eyes open the entire time; she could see the wooden ceiling above her, though it had taken on a wavy, mottled appearance as the water flowed hither and thither. Tepid liquid pressed against every inch of her body, but she felt no fear as it surrounded her. Only once had she been afraid, that first time, when she hadn't known what to expect.

She was better prepared now.

Before she even knew what was happening, Fluttershy found herself occupying two places at once; bodily, she was floating in a tub of water, but spiritually … she was elsewhere.

It was pointless to try and describe it; it was somewhere, yet it was nowhere. It existed, but it wasn't possible for it to exist. It was everything and nothing all at once.

Whatever it was, it was responsible for her.

Everything that she was, everything that was important, it stemmed from this place.

For a moment, she understood it all.

Suddenly, she felt her head jerk and she was wrenched violently from wherever it was; a pair of concerned-looking blue eyes looked down at her, and it took Fluttershy a moment to realise that Rarity was holding her, saying something in a calm-but-anxious voice.

“Rarity,” Fluttershy said when she had recovered sufficiently to speak, trying to wiggle herself free from her friend's tenacious grasp, “what are you doing here?”

V. A Friendship Deepened

Life had, after a fashion, returned to Fluttershy's house, but the tense, frosty atmosphere lingered. In the moments following Rarity's dramatic rescuing of Fluttershy, she had refused to let the pegasus out of her sight; even when she'd gone into the kitchen to make them a cup of tea, she'd been careful to keep one eye firmly fixed on her. Fluttershy, for her part, was sitting not particularly comfortably in her seat, pulling the towel that Rarity had wrapped her up in tighter around herself to stave off the cold. Wet rattails of hair clung to her neck and back, and somehow that made her look even tinier than normal. She wanted nothing more than to get rid of the fussy unicorn as quickly as possible and to be done with this. Somehow, she got the feeling that it wasn't to be, though.
The one time I don't lock the door and this happens.

Fluttershy glanced in the direction of the kitchen and just as quickly turned away when she noticed that Rarity was still staring intently at her. All of this because of one missed appointment. She reflected that it would just have to be Rarity, with her flair for the dramatic, wouldn't it? Most other ponies would simply assume that they'd been stood-up and would ask for an explanation the next time they bumped into the offending party.

Once the tea was ready, Rarity returned to the living room, placing the tray on the table between them and took a seat. She hadn't yet spoken, but her eyes were filled with silent accusation. She was trying to maintain a rigid, composed posture, but it was clear to Fluttershy that she was hurting, that she couldn't understand what she'd been trying to do.

Exactly what I was afraid of.

“Rarity,” Fluttershy said quietly, not making any motion toward the tea even though the intense minty scent made it incredibly inviting, “it's not what you think, okay?”

“Oh,” replied Rarity, taking a small, ladylike sip from her own mug. She was trying – and failing – to keep her voice level, but the stress of the past hour was a dam just waiting to burst. “Isn't it? So you weren't trying to drown yourself, then?”

“No, I was not,” said Fluttershy, unintentionally snapping the words out far more harshly than she'd intended. Taking a deep breath, letting the heady aroma suffuse her nostrils and work its calming magic, she tried to quell the rising tide of emotions that she felt surging within her. As a filly, she had felt things far more keenly than others, something that had only gotten worse as she'd got older. Possibly as a side-effect of her cutie mark's influence on her, she guessed, though she couldn't be certain about that. “Rarity, you had no reason to come barging into my house like that.”

Rarity opened then shut her mouth. “It was good fortune that I did,” she said eventually, rather taken aback at Fluttershy's tone. She'd been expecting her to be remorseful about what she'd almost done, not angry because she'd been stopped. More sympathetically, she continued, “Darling, if you were having, um, problems, you could've spoken to me, to any of us, about them. I just can't understand why you tried to do-”

“-I was not trying to commit suicide Rarity,” Fluttershy said firmly, leaning forward and widening her eyes to cut her friend off before she could finish.

Sceptically, Rarity gazed at her friend; there was nothing in her expression, nothing in her words, to suggest that she was lying, but that didn't mean anything. “What were you doing, then?” she asked quietly.

Her muzzle suddenly reddening at the question, Fluttershy tore herself away from Rarity's studious look. Was this really so unexpected? She'd always known that somepony might find out about her bizarre little ritual one day, and she'd tried to prepare for it, but nothing she could think of seemed to adequately convey the experience. It wasn't something that could be described via mere words. Guilt gnawed at her, and she desperately wished that she could do the entire day over again. “It's … complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it, dear,” Rarity said in an insistent tone, “because I'm not leaving here until I'm satisfied that you're not in any danger, either from yourself or another.”

A small, stubborn part of Fluttershy demanded that she get rid of Rarity, that she remind the busybody that a pony's personal life was their own business and they were under no obligation to share any aspect of it if they did not wish to do so, but if there was one defining trait to the unicorn then it was her stubbornness: she would not let things lie until she'd explained them to her satisfaction, and she was not afraid to bruise the feelings of other to get what she wanted. Also, she would doubtless inform their other friends of this and they would, in turn, pester her for answers. “This stays between us, right?” said Fluttershy, her voice small and defeated.

“Well, that will depend on what you have to say, I suppose,” replied Rarity, folding her arms. Already, she was contemplating how to break the news to Twilight and the others; all of them cared deeply for Fluttershy, none more so than Rainbow Dash, and they would be aghast at what she had almost done. Oh, sure, she could claim that there was an innocent explanation, that it wasn't what it seemed, but what else could it be? Even if she did swear an oath not to tell another soul, she doubted that she would be able to do so. “But I will hear you out fully before I make a decision. Deal?”

Warily, Fluttershy said, “Fair enough, I guess.” It was more than she'd expected, but less than she'd hoped. She sat back in her seat, taking a moment to get her bedraggled thoughts in order. “D'you remember what it was like when you first got your cutie mark?” she suddenly asked.

“I'm not liable to ever forget that day,” Rarity replied, almost smiling at the memory of being literally dragged halfway across Equestria in order to be confronted by an enormous boulder. Still, the discomfort she'd experienced was worth it in order to discover her special talent. Some ponies got their marks in more mundane ways, but it wasn't unusual – especially considering the influence of Rainbow Dash's sonic rainboom – for such events to occur. “What does that have to do with you immersing yourself in a bathtub full of water, however?”

“A lot of ponies think that my cutie mark gives me the ability to talk to animals, to understand and relate to them, but they're wrong,” said Fluttershy, taking a long sip from her tea to rehydrate her parched throat. It wasn't dry due to overuse so much as nerves. Her voice went quiet and distant, and Rarity had to strain in order to hear her speak. “That … that power, if you will, comes from somewhere else. What my cutie mark actually does is compel me to understand animals.”

“Darling, I'm afraid that I don't quite follow your meaning,” Rarity said, frowning.

Sucking on her upper lip, Fluttershy suppressed a sigh. “I can't … I can't just walk up to a random, strange animal and instantly know everything about them, right? I have to work at it, I have to study them, and my cutie mark pushes me in a direction that I'm not quite comfortable with exploring, but it will continue to nag at me until I've figured out the lesson that it's trying to teach me.”

“I think I see.” Rarity thought for a moment, scratching her chin. “It's similar to how I will instinctively know whenever I'm in vicinity of gems, without necessarily knowing exactly where they are buried. Or how Pinkie Pie always knows when somepony needs to be cheered up.”

“Something like that, yes,” Fluttershy said, nodding her head in agreement, feeling a weight lifting from her chest. Of course, it made sense that other ponies might have comparable experiences regarding their cutie marks and she realised how stupid she was being not to have mentioned it sooner. “Being underwater … I don't find it pleasant in the slightest, yet I don't feel any fear – and you know how unusual that is – while I'm immersed. This is going to sound awfully pretentious, but I can't think of a better way to describe it. While I'm under, I gain … insight. A level of comprehension that I wouldn't otherwise have.” Fluttershy paused, shaking her head, realising how this must sound to another.

“Insight?” asked Rarity. “About animals?” Her friend was right about how it sounded, though; just for a moment, the unicorn was wondering if, rather than Twilight Sparkle, she was going to have to call for a therapist instead.

“Yes, but more than that. My mind sort of disconnects itself from my body and … well, where it goes I really can't tell you because I don't know myself, but it sort of unites with the rest of the world. Like, I'm a part of everything and everything is a part of me. I can't remember everything about the experience when I wake up, but some level of knowledge is retained because I'll always know something that I didn't previously. How to deal with manticores, how best to handle Discord, things like that.” Fluttershy forced a smile. “You think I'm crazy, don't you?”

“After everything we've gone through together, no, I don't think that you're crazy at all,” said Rarity, returning the smile, totally belying her earlier thought about needing a shrink. Fluttershy's demeanour gave her no reason not to take her at face value, however. “It sounds a little bit out there, yes, but … I believe you. How often do these, uh, urges occur? Why is the cottage so bereft of life?”

“They can happen at almost any time, but they're usually at least a few months apart, and I can ignore them up to a point before they become intolerable and I have to give in to them.” Fluttershy's expression became a grimace. “As for the cottage … well, meditation is best done without any distractions, and this struck me as a form of meditation. Also, I was worried about what others might think should they ever catch me in the act, so to speak.”

“Sounds a bit like an addiction,” Rarity said. She pulled a face. “Poor choice of words.”

“I thought that way at first,” replied Fluttershy with a slight shrug. “But then I realised that it was just a fundamental part of who I am, like your work, Rainbow Dash's flying, or Twilight's studying. They're important facets, but they aren't everything.”

Rarity let out a sardonic laugh.

“What's funny?”

“Just before coming here, I was thinking about how we sometimes have the nasty habit of pigeon-holing ponies as being just one thing when it so often isn't the case.” She locked eyes with her friend. “Fluttershy, I cannot pretend to fully grasp what it is that you're going through, but I recognise its importance both to you and to Equestria because it certainly seems that without it we would have not been properly equipped to deal with certain situations, therefore I would like to ask a favour of you?”

“Which is?” asked Fluttershy falteringly, afraid of what was to come.

“That you allow me to assist you with your meditations.”

Fluttershy raised an eyebrow, not having been prepared for that outcome. “Help? How?”

“By being present when you go under in order to ensure your safety.” Before Fluttershy could interject, Rarity held up a hoof to cut her off. “While I don't doubt that you take all necessary precautions, I would certainly rest easier knowing that your well-being is not being left up to the whims of something that neither of us properly understand. If you'd prefer, it doesn't have to be me, or even one of our other close friends, but just promise me that somepony will be there to keep an eye on you? I dread to think what might happen if you were to stay submerged for too long. Or if some accident occurred while your mind was, er, distracted.”

“What your saying makes a lot of sense,” Fluttershy finally said after a long moment's deliberation. A tic pulled the corners of her mouth into a slight smile. When the urges had first started, she'd considered asking Angel Bunny to act as a guardian, but something about them seemed so personal that she couldn't countenance sharing them with anypony else, even a much-trusted friend. She was confident that there was no real danger, but Rarity had a point about accidents: nothing could be taken for granted when you lived in a place as prone to danger as Ponyville was.

Plus, there were the practical benefits of having somepony to talk to about what she'd seen in the other place, even if they couldn't offer any useful insights they would at least offer a pressure valve to relieve some much-needed tension. “It might be a little bit scary for you,” said Fluttershy evenly. “I don't know what happens to my body while my mind goes on these little jaunts, and I wouldn't want you to be freaked out by anything that you might see or hear while I'm … away.”

Rarity nodded her understanding. “That's okay. You know how quickly I can adapt to new situations, and more importantly, I just want you to be safe.”

Smiling her first genuine smile in some time, Fluttershy said, “Thank you, I appreciate that.” Maybe having somepony know about her superpower wouldn't be such a bad thing, especially when it was her best friend; she'd often harboured the suspicion that her gift had come with the cost of robbing her of her ability to understand the behaviour of her fellow ponies, hence the frequent clumsy displays and lack of progress in her attempts to be more assertive. With Rarity, however, she'd never felt that way. It seemed right that she be the one to accompany her on this strange journey, wherever its eventual destination might be. Even assuming that it had one. On impulse, she hugged the unicorn tightly.

“You're welcome,” replied Rarity, returning the embrace.