Chapters Somber.
You felt somber.
It was a bit odd. Any other day and you’d be right back into the fray, eager for tomorrow. You have an unshakeable tenacity in that regard– of that much you're certain. Utter devotion toward your cause. Absolute desire for victory. Eyes on the prize.
And, in a way, it was all a farce.
Always had been.
You always knew. All those times you swallowed down your fear and knocked on his door– It was a front. ’The ends would justify the means, Fluttershy.’ ’Your dedication is undeniable.’ ’Today’s the day.’
All the withstood humiliation would one day pay off.
And that was enough to push past the ever-gripping fears that plagued you.
One day, it could all just be left in the past; like some embarrassing story that turns funny as the once-searing emotions fade with time. That was always enough to keep you motivated for tomorrow’s attempt. But now, still standing at Anon’s door, staring blindly at the wood in front of you…
Well, it’s hard to not feel a bit lost.
That’s about as much of a reality check you’re willing to accept at the moment, as allowing anything deeper would probably make you cry. No matter what, you’d always be that shy mare, afraid of her own shadow. The morning that surrounds you is as idyllic and shining as any other pegasi-made perfect day in Ponyville. Yet, that hollow cold settling into your gut won’t shake away, regardless of your infrequent tremors. You should get out of here before the dam bursts.
Maybe it’s good that Anon said no again today.
You have some things to think about.
Normally you’d head home and read over your diary after getting rejected. You’ve reread your entries and your list of ways to win him over so many times that you had it nearly memorized, but you like routine. As if reading your words again might spark some secret epiphany you were just on the precipice of reaching in the days prior. It didn’t feel worth the trouble at the moment. So, instead, you found a lonesome park bench looking like it needed company.
Celestia knows you do.
Her sun had finally burned away those dark thoughts and dried up those final few tears after you fled from the public view. It was more manageable now; and it left you finally able to re-strategize. Obviously some things weren’t working here. In the catharsis, you examined your ‘solo’ concept.
Your friends tried to help you, in the past.
Rarity, Rainbow Dash— heck, even Twilight had offered herself as a confidant more than once. They either wanted to see their friend get what she yearned for, or wanted to stop seeing her embarrass herself publicly.
You always politely declined.
In your mind, that would detract from your ‘victory.’ Your mind so loved to wander back into the daydream fantasy of when Anon would finally say yes. You'd pictured it in a million different ways at this point. Your studious deep-dives into the arts of courtship and smut increasingly tinged those fantasies too; and probably significantly up-ticked their occurrence. It had to be done; you didn’t know of any other way to learn.
Anyway, the only common themes amongst them all were Anon, him saying yes, and you doing it alone. Self-made mare setting her mind to it and getting it done, just like Rainbow Dash would.
Or Rarity.
Or Twilight, or Pinkie, or Applejack, or any other of your friends.
They just knew.
If they wanted coltfriends, if they found their true love— any one of them would have him wrapped around her hoof in a week.
And you wanted to be like them.
You wanted to be among them.
So they couldn’t help.
It’s easy to shrug off any other aspect of societal expectation; you had what you needed there. You could happily stand below good friends, knowing they’d always have your back despite your shortcomings. But not on this front. No, here you need to stand beside them as one of their own. This was between you and the one you wanted as your lover- not your friends, or some vague idea of society looking in.
That was the ‘solo’ concept.
It’s just what a mare should do.
Your mother taught you that, in her own way. Surely unbeknownst to herself.
A filly plays with her friends off in the distance, deeper in the park. You recognize them: Ambre Russe, Candy Corn, and Eureka. Ambre’s mother watches idly from a distance, content. That was a state of being you yearned for. You found your vision drifting between the two parties for some time. Maybe a few minutes or so. You didn’t care much about focusing on the passage of time at the moment. Part of you just wanted the day to end. All the same, the more you watched, monotone at your solitary little park bench; the more you began to see the whole scene before you with a sort of wider clarity...
You didn’t quite understand; at least, not yet.
But maybe your mother would know.
You never liked flying to Cloudsdale. If it was in the local area at all, it was always at such a dizzying height.
You remember your fall vividly, so many years before.
When you first made your way back up, it was on the back of your father. You wouldn’t do it on your own until the desire to see those creatures back on the ground became too much to bear. All the same, this flight usually carried nothing but fearful memories with it. You’d found some respite over the years, doing it on your own, as if it was proof of the progress you’d made with your ever-present fears. Those coping thoughts were far from your mind now, however.
It was windy business.
Up so far, the breeze often would catch distant voices on it’s path, pushing their echoes far beyond the mouths they came from, and often distorting their original message. It made for a ghostly experience, if one was unfortunate enough to catch those gusts under their wings. Of course, the world seems eager to taunt you. Distant callings of ”Fluttershy? Fluttershy!” ride on the winds.
Maybe it was just your mind plaguing you again, but—
A pegasus nearly swirls you up into a downdraft as she barrels to meet you. Thankfully, her hooves steady your wild turning of this way and that. ”Oooh! What good timing! Our winds intersect, Fluttershy! What in the world is the #1 Best-Friend-Of-Rainbow-Dash-Champion-Holder-Eighteen–Years-In-A–Row doing so high up in the clouds!?”
It takes you a second to recalibrate your spinning eyes.
“Gah… M-Miss Whistles?”
She gigglesnorts, rolling a hoof. ”Oh, always so polite. You know you can just call me Windy, little lady!”
Windy moves like a hummingbird, immediately at your side, bumping her rump against yours as she pans a hoof out across the verdant Equestrian landscape rolling out across the horizon.
”This is incredible! To think I’d get to see my daughter’s first fillyhood friend today— and here I was just out to buy groceries! Ohoho! It must’ve been fate!”
“I-I was just—”
She cups your cheeks, somehow back in front of you once more. When Windy’s excited, she can run circles around just about anypony.
”Oh. My. Celestia. I just got the PERFECT idea!”
You don’t try speaking out again.
”Forget the groceries, Bobo Bear’s stuffed jalapeno poppers can wait. Will you come back home with me for a little visit, pleaseeee?”
Her shining eyes and smile are almost infectious.
“... Okay.”
”Back already, my wind chime? Oh, did you get the stuffed—”
You brace for the outburst, a small smile having finally managed to break through your dreary mood.
”THE #1 BEST-FRIEND-OF-RAINBOW-DASH-CHAMPION-HOLDER-EIGHTEEN–YEARS-IN-A–ROW!? Sweet Celestia! Come on in, fillies!”
Rainbow’s parents were impossible to be mopey around. Bow Hothoof rushes to the kitchen table, scrambling to pull out chairs. He fumbles, nearly breaking the table with his fall— but it’s all taken in stride by the burly pegasus.
”Oof! Now, how’d you manage to wrangle Fluttershy all the way up to Cloudsdale, Windy?”
Said mare floats over to her husband and heaves him up with hidden strength. ”You know I have my ways, Bobo~”
Windy eagerly clip-clops a hoof on an adjacent seat for you, before taking her husband’s side again. ”Though to tell the truth, I just got so caught up in having Fluttershy visit that I didn’t give her the chance to explain,” she offers you a sympathetic nod “and I’m sorry for that, dear. You know how we can be.”
You bow back as you take your seat. “It’s no trouble, really. In a way, I suppose this is what I came up here for.”
Bow chuckles with an ”oh? You like us that much?”
“Well of course, but I mean more so—”
Your words catch in your throat.
Time for another painful admittance.
You catch yourself slipping into staring again, however brief. Parents you’ve known all your life stare back, happy to see you— eager to listen. Would their ears turn down in pity if they heard your words? Surely it’d be tolerable if you just had news of rejection.
But countless rejections?
And the reasons why?
The thought threatens to burn up your throat. It was so much easier to throw this shame by the wayside when embarrassing yourself in front of Anon. And that is what you do, too: Embarrass yourself, and surely him as well in the process.
Embarrass and humiliate and—
”Fluttershy, dear, is everything okay?”
Windy’s tone switches from polite to gentle in an instant.
That’s so like her.
What catches you off guard, though, is how she actually noticed you caught in your thoughts. You must’ve let it last longer than normal. Normally ponies just assume it to be a quirk of shyness, or even misread it entirely as merely your stutter. Are you doing it again?
”You know you can tell us if something’s wrong. O-oh, we didn’t come on too strongly, did we?” Bow turns to his wife, talking low “I told you we had to really start toning it back after that spat with Dashie. We’re gonna end up scaring every pony in Equestria at this rate.”
Windy places a hoof atop Bow’s, now staring intently at you. ”I don’t think that’s what got Fluttershy spooked like this. Dear, please, if you’re not feeling okay, we can help. I promise.”
It’s good you got those tears out earlier, because they certainly wouldn’t help sell any sort of masquerading bravery now. Something tells you it’s much too late for that anyway.
You sigh, and spare Rainbow’s parents from having to try again to worm words out of you. ”I-I was on my way to my parent’s house. I wanted some… advice.”
”Advice on what, dear? We can help with that! Oh, if you’re okay with sharing, of course.”
Your hooves are awfully interesting now.
”Ooh… I-it’s about a stallion is all—” You catch yourself quick. “H-human! I mean human.”
Bow and Windy stare for a second before casting a knowing glance one another’s way.
”One sec Fluttershy, let me go get the scrapbook.” With that, Bow is already heaving himself up with an exaggerated ‘oof,’ trotting into another room.
Windy plays it off well.
”Oh Fluttershy, you don’t have to get yourself spun up like a hurricane over Anonymous! I bet, a few more guesses and you’ll have him eating out of the palm of your hoof!”
Oh.
This is new.
“... Y-you… You know Anon?”
”How could we pass up meeting Rainbow Dash’s First-Extraterrestrial-Being-From-Beyond-Equestrian-Reality-Friend?! Of course we had to meet the fella! It’s not everyday your pride and joy is chummin’ it up with an alien! Where IS this blasted thing, I swear—” Bow’s voice fades into a ruinous clatter of clinking metal and shuffled papers alike, tearing up the Rainbow-Memorabilia room.
”And it’s not everyday you go fallin’ for one either, Fluttershy~” Windy’s sing-song voice flitters from sympathetically serious to whimsically carefree as if a lazy breeze. ”Now I know you’re not the kinda mare to go kissing and telling, and your reasons are yours and yours alone first and forehoof, but from what Bobo and I have seen—”
Bow slams a stuffed scrapbook on the table, flipping directly to a page adorned with pictures of Anon. They range from outright selfies with the ponies at his side (and Anon looking very much confused), to candid creepshots very similar to a certain scrapbook of your own that you keep under your bed.
“... You took that one from the oak tree that’s lined up with his bathroom window! You have an excellent eye for stakeout spots.”
Windy clutches her heart with her hooves. ”Oh, thank you dear! We thought it was just perfect!”
Bow laughs. ”Hah! I mean, c’mon now. Leaving your bathroom blinds open? At 8pm? Flexing your guns in front of the mirror before your nightly shower? Stallion’s basically beggin’ for it. I don’t know why he plays so hard to get with you, Fluttershy.”
”Like I told you a million times dear, he’s a virgin. You can smell it on him. He just doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Windy wriggles her eyebrows “especially with a nice young filly like you.”
It’s getting much too hot in this cloud house.
“I… um… f-forgive me if I’m being too forward, but… how do you know I like him?”
The couple pull up briefly from their trip down memory lane.
”Oh sister, you oughta know how long it can take to build a collection like this! We saw you at his door All. The. Time. Very punctual by the way, colts love that.”
Bow nods. ”It’s a good initial gauge on the loyalty of a mare. I mean, if you aren’t gonna instill an artificial regime into my life via behavioral conditioning, how can you expect to be able to have an impact at all?”
... Bow lets that one sit for a second.
”It’s also just so polite, ya know?”
Windy leans toward you in a mock whisper. ”That’s how I snagged that big lug Bobo over there, you know.”
The aforementioned stallion blushes, burying his face into the book. ”Oh, Windy~...”
You’re all ears now.
“Really?”
Windy scoffs. ”Well, having a VERY curious tongue helped too.”
”D-dear!!”
Windy bats a hoof dismissively. ”Oh c’mon now, she knows I’m kidding!”
Windy mouths ‘I’m not’ immediately after.
You… aren’t sure whether or not you want to learn these things.
This could be a good starting point for you though.
“So you did, um, stuff similar to what I do? A-and it worked?”
You can’t help but perk up a bit at Windy’s enthusiasm; she’s like a little ball of spontaneity and spunk.
Not that kind.
Or maybe…?
”Sure did! He was even a bit reluctant at first too, believe it or not.” Windy polishes her hoof against her chest, some of her fluff poking out from her shirt as she coolly leans. ”Nothin’ I couldn’t handle.”
Bow sinks deeper against his wife’s side, as though taking refuge against her would somehow shield his blush. You lean forward, past fears melting away with your intrigue. “I-if I may ask… what are your fetishes, then? M-maybe I could see if Anon feels the same way!?”
Windy bites her lip to hold back her excitement. Her giddy hoof-taps against the scrapbook and its many pictures tell all.
”Once I learned my Windchime here was a fellow voyeur, heh, well- it was hard to say no to her!” Bow bursts from Windy’s side, throwing up his hooves in excitement. ”I mean, we got in a LOT of trouble at first, with our, um, cheering- but we learned to keep it in check while watching other couples.”
Windy giggles, nodding her head excessively. ”It’s the ultimate foreplay! I mean, picture it: You’re sitting with your lovey-hubby, watching some unsuspecting lovers already in the mood, doing ‘the deed’ as the fillies say, haha, and suddenly— you’re both in the mood yourselves!”
Bow rubs his hoof behind his neck. ”Yeah… that’s around the time we started getting caught for mounting in some strangers' bushes rather than ‘cheering for the show,’ if you get what I mean.
Windy bats a hoof at Bow’s chest. ”Oh you~ Go on sweetie, go get one of the REAL good scrapbooks.”
Bow obeys, and Windy gives him a good slap on his rump for the trouble. She leans toward you, whispering. ”See what I mean? Colts go CRAZY for a mare that can really take charge, you know?”
It’s becoming a bit hard to compartmentalize all this incredibly important knowledge in your head— but of course! This is exactly what you were missing! Who better to ask for help than the mares who’d long since beaten the game?
“I see…”
Windy had really broken through to you, if your flared wings were any indication. It gave you a great idea.
Bow returns, dragging alongside him a much beefier scrapbook. It's packed to the brim with old Polaroids slipping from the pages and a rainbow of sticky notes and indexers alike. He hefts it up onto the table with a grunt, flipping through the pages. Some appeared to be stuck together.
”Aha! Look honey, here’s that time where Hondo and Cookie Crumbles were trying to spice up their game!”
Windy sighs longingly as she stares down at the candid photos. ”Ah, roleplay~ I recall ol’ Cookie being the victim of a home invasion, and a masked bandit who looked eerily like Hondo, hmmm?”
Bow winks. ”Good memory! Oh, just look at the costumes. Cookie NEVER wears a bathrobe to bed! Gosh, it was such a good setup…”
Their sights are back on you now.
”We just had to try it out ourselves after the show- and I mean really, they must’ve brainstormed for a while about it nights before, because it’s a STELLAR scenario!”
“Are those… Rarity’s parents?”
Windy and Bow both nod giddily, with Windy nearly squeeing in delight. You hoped they hadn’t spied on your own parents at some point.
... You know they did, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t hope otherwise.
It’s neither here nor there.
You point to a particularly scandalous shot: One of the masked unicorn attempting to hilt in the mare as she hammed up the acting with her shrieking face of terror. “Has she been on the stage before? That almost looks real!”
... Your eyes wander to the accompanying images beside it.
The mare’s hoof points out the window, directly where the camera would’ve been. The masked stallion noticing in the next. Bow and Windy taking a selfie in front of the window, sandwiching the window of the two horrified lovers. Rainbow’s parents are smiling proudly in that last one, at least.
Booming laughter from Bow pulls you out of the book. ”Hahah! We may have gotten banned from the West side of Whinnyapolis after that one, but restraining orders never stopped us.”
Windy adds “that’s apart of the thrill! You really gotta try it with Anon some time, Fluttershy.”
His name brings you back to the task at hoof.
“Oh… I don’t think Anon would like this very much. When I take pictures of him sleeping, h-he just gets… really loud.”
Windy scoffs. ”Well, that’s why you start off taking pictures together! Really, others call us ‘voyeurs’ or ‘perverts,’ but I think ‘connoisseurs’ is a much more apt description. I mean, who’s the authorities to decide what is and isn’t a date? Bobo and I have been on more dates than the whole Guard-force put together! And many more so than Anon, especially. We haven’t seen him with a mare even once, and we stake his house out All. The. Time.”
“Y-you do? How come I’ve never seen you?”
The couple smile smugly, though Windy is the one to speak up.
”Come visit more often and maybe we’ll share some of our secret hiding spots, hm?”
You meet their former enthusiasm and put a hoof on the table.
”T-tuesday, 6pm, the bushes outside Anon’s living room window.”
“He always takes a nap on the couch after work.”
Their hooves meet yours.
”We’ll be there.”
A newfound zeal fills your chest as you wave goodbye to Rainbow’s parents.
”I-I’ll see you both Tuesday night!”
Windy and Bow wave back from the front door.
”We’ll be there! Oh hey, why don’t you go visit Rarity’s family next? All us ‘mothers and fathers of the Elements of Harmony’ penpal a TON ever since y'all got together! They’re in Canterlot for the weekend to catch the big hoofball game! Whinnyapolis is going against the Royal Guard, and I don’t know if you know, but Hondo never misses his team playing! They told us they were even gonna stay in the Castle too!”
Bow laughs. ”Yeah, and you saw the pictures! They’re gonna keep Princess Celestia up ALL NIGHT after the game! I bet Hondo gets them both kicked out before the weekend’s up, haha!”
At this, Windy bites her lip and shouts “oh, a-and uh, don’t mention that we still kept those old photos! Cookie’s still a bit, um, sour about that one!”
“I won’t, a-as long as you two promise not to, um, embrace each other beside me while we’re watching Anon!”
Some passerby pegasi turn their heads at that.
Windy whistles out “no promises~”
Finally the two trade giddy looks before shouting out “BYE #1 BEST-FRIEND-OF-RAINBOW-DASH-CHAMPION-HOLDER-EIGHTEEN–YEARS-IN-A–ROW!!” and shutting the door.
You can’t help but laugh at their antics. It’s just too much fun being around those two. As your laughter dies out, your eyes wander toward the hanging city on the mountain. Canterlot really wasn’t so far away, and with the recent work done on the railways, it’s faster than ever to get there. You knew just where you’d find Hondo Flanks and Cookie Crumbles, too.
It wouldn’t be at Canterlot Castle.
With your old determination flooding back alongside newfound hope, you unfurl your wings and divebomb back towards Ponyville.
You had a train to catch.
It had still been morning when you left Cloudsdale, where you first captured the high of rekindled hope. Now it was nearly noon on a Canterlot-bound express, and your little pegasus body was having increasing trouble sitting so still as your mind reeled with excitement. This could change everything! It WILL change everything! You had half a mind at the moment to barrel out from this train and finish the trip on your wings alone!
Well… Maybe not something so drastic, but you couldn’t help the way you felt. This was the same mania you’d so often feel for Anon, coaxed into it before you even could process why. But— it differed in that this wasn’t mere instinct, or fantasy taking over rationale. No, you were thinking clearly now.
A scholar, no— a student, poring over the teachings of your elders and all that they would offer to share. The impatient tapping of your hooves and scribbling in your journal could only appease your desire for more so long. More insight, more wisdom, more truths that’d cut through your internalized failures and show you the path toward what you longed for.
You notice some ponies in your cabin cautiously, though politely, inch away from your seat. They must think you’re some crazy-pony, frantically writing away in her journal about sharing interests with her Anon like it was a manifesto.
Maybe they’re right.
... Good!
Let them be right!
You’ve a destiny to fulfill, and happiness that you deserve!
This train may not reach station for another thirty minutes, and that alone felt like a lifetime atop the lifetimes you’d spent aboard already, but that was alright. The Whinnyapolis Wayfarers would be starting their playoff game against The Canterlot Guardsmen soon, so said a stallion who boarded alongside you. All you had to do was get to that stadium and find Rarity’s parents.
For all your past gusto, you certainly had a knack for clamming up when the heat was on.
Well, the heat was on now.
That fire in you muffled quick when you first heard the roar of the Canterlot Gridiron, and you weren’t even inside yet. Things didn’t get any better once you were either, scanning it’s gargantuan length for two familiar faces in the sea of ponies. You weren’t one for crowds. That much didn’t really need saying, but oftentimes you’d find yourself among them, and that fact would again return to the forefront of your mind.
Like now.
”Oooh yeah honeybuns, yer squeezin’ my hog like a Prench-press against a premium dark roast!”
Only this was so much worse.
”H-hee… I-I’m glad you think so, Hondie~”
Oh, you’d found Rarity’s parents alright.
”You betta strap that fuckin’ helmet, Hondo, cause the game’s just barely past half-time.”
But they hadn’t yet spotted you.
This still had to be fate though, because- well; if Cookie Crumbles was just going to sit in Hondo Flank’s lap for the game anyway, why’d they buy two seats side by side?
”Well fuck me, filly, I don’t think I’m gonna— F-Fluttashy!?”
There it is.
Cookie whips her head back toward her husband, about ready to strike.”Calling out otha fillies names!? Hondo you no-good damn— Fluttashy!?”
You sat beside them, in the one empty seat that, you now hope, was Cookie’s original spot. It’d feel just awful if you had swiped some poor pony’s seat. Still, seeing and hearing what you’ve seen and heard now, maybe an excuse to leave wouldn’t be so bad.
You wave meekly.
“H-hi.”
Turns out, the tail hole in Cookie’s pants was multi-functional.
”W-wha in the world are you doin’ here? I didn’t know you liked Hoofball!”
You don’t.
“I-I was actually out looking for you two.”
Cookie cocks her head, never once ceasing her gentle rocking in between Hondo’s legs. ”Oh, but whadd’ya need lil’ ol’ us for deary? Is it about Rarity? Is Sweetie okay!? You know how she’s gotten a taste for those crayons, Hondo…” Apparently, Cookie Crumbles' nervousness translates directly to her vaginal contractions, if Hondo’s increasingly sweaty face is any indicator.
”N-no no, Rarity’s fine… Um, Sweetie too. I think…”
”Then whateva’s the issue, ‘Shy? I don’t mean ta’ come off as rude, Celestia no, but I mean; you comin’ out to see us all on your lonesome just reads strange—” Cookie catches herself, bobbing up in place.
Hondo looks about ready to blow.
”I mean— I just… Ya see where I’m comin’ from, donchya?”
You feel your head nod with forced robotic jank, unable to withstand looking Rarity’s mother in the face as she takes fat stallion cock in a public stadium any longer. Watching hoofball had some use to you after all.
“D-don’t worry Mrs. Crumbles, I understand. I actually came with, well, some questions. Regarding how the two of you…”
Rarity’s parents were much like Rainbow’s, in a way: Eager to share.
”Well do tell, filly! We’re all ears!”
You swallow your spit and nod. Forget your nerves, Fluttershy; you had a mission.
“I, um, well- I’ve been having relationship issues, and I just wanted to ask if you had any advice.”
Cookie gasps, her eyes bulging wide.To your horror, it makes Hondo do the same.
”Y-you!? Aww, Fluttashy! I didn’t know you of all ponies woulda found themselves pining for a colt! That’s wondahful!”
Judging from Hondo’s haggard breathing and lulled-back head, you’d think he got a much different pleasure from watching his home team score against the Canterlot Guardsmen. ”G-gah… S-so what, Shy dear? This colt don’t like you back? He a virgin or sumthin’? Hoo, fuck…”
You kept your eyes glued to the hoofball soaring through the air far below, scooting in your seat ever so slightly away from the conjoined pair. “Um… A-actually, can I just ask how you two first got together?”
Cookie coos, snuggling her head up under Hondo’s chin. ”Oh, I was a cheerleader for the Whinnyapolis Wayfarer’s back in my day; Hondo played on the O-Line!”
Hondo leans down to kiss his wife’s head. ”So cute that’chya remembah my position…”
”Oh, how COULDN’T I? I was always watchin’ you out on the field. I remember tellin’ myself: ‘Right there. That’s the colt who’s gonna be my husband.’” Cookie peers up, as if Hondo could see her eager face. ”Tell ‘er Hondie! What’d I do!?”
The bushy brows on Hondo’s eyes lay low as he closes his eyes, picturing the memory. His hooves come to wrap around Cookie’s size-too-small satin pants again and you internally scream as you see his pumps resume out of your peripherals. ”It was Homecomin’ Game, and the whole team hadn’t come back out after Halftime because Cookie ‘ere had cornered me in the lockers. Coach was furious. He goes in, face all red, ready to knock some skulls around; and wham!”
Hondo delivers a mean slap to Cookie’s exceedingly plump rump, sending all the more shockwaves through her flesh as the bouncing picks up pace yet again.”Coach finds me still in full-gear, pinned down by a cheerleader! Worse yet, all my buddies are in there cheering her on!”
”Next thing I know, we’re gettin’ carried back out onto the field by the boys, and Cookie still ain’t stopping!”
This sounds… similar to some of the attempts you’ve tried on Anon.
”Everypony’s goin’ crazy: Mares start grabbing stallions in the stands, the other team abandons the field, it’s a full blown Homecoming orgy out there ontha’ field!”
Or not.
“O-okay, um.”
Hondo doesn’t hear your passive attempt at wrangling back control of the conversation, snuffed out in the roar of the crowd. ”I proposed to this lil’ lady right there on the field that day. It’s tradition that the Whinnyapolis Wayfarer’s Homecoming game never actually finishes now ‘cause of us, heh…”
You watch as the stallions down there on the field reform into their positions, readying for the next play. A mental image of that Homecoming game rapidly forms in your mind. It’s horrifyingly vivid. You’re sweating bullets, trying to just focus on the number painted on the back of 41’s jersey.
Hondo continues, now pulled from his reminiscing as Cookie’s tongue lulls out from her mouth, sucking in ragged breaths. ”It was exhibitionism that brought us together, and heh, well, it keeps our love strong.”
Cookie archs back her head, frantically kissing at the underside of Hondo’s jawline. ”Betch’yer flank it does, Hondie! Y-you know Fluttas, ah, you might not believe this, but Hondo and I are actually makin’ love right now ! H-hope you don’t mind us, oof, tellin’ you that.”
”I-I had no idea.”
With all of this clamor, it’s awfully hard to even collect your thoughts— let alone ask another question. Things aren’t helped with your newest set of ‘elders’... Enjoying one another’s bodies while regaling you with the story of their proposal, either. You’d had similar fantasies in the past, sure: Like pinning down Anon in the middle of Ponyville and making all those mares in town who must think you’re a no-hope pervert see that… Well, at least you weren’t the ‘no-hope’ part. That’s a really fun power fantasy, but not helpful to ruminate upon at the moment. Although…
“B-but, um, Mrs. Crumbles? How exactly did you ‘approach’ Mr. Flanks? Surely you didn’t just, well, take him?” You crack open your diary and ready yourself to jot down the juicy bits.
Still panting, the mare opens her mouth to respond, but is beat to the punch by Hondo. ”Oh she definitely did! She was like ah cheetah, yaknow? A jaguar! Er, which onnadose is more ferocious, cheetah or jaguar? I know you know all the differences between ‘em an such.”
“Well, I personally find both to be big softies if you just give them a chance, but—”
No, bad Fluttershy! Now’s not the time for cute, cuddly kitties!
“A-ahem. C-can you explain a bit more?”
A sweat-ridden hoof finds it’s way to Hondo’s chin, with Cookie looking up at him inquisitively. ”I didn’t know you thought I was so animalistic, Hondie.” Smug confidence oozes from her cool smile and half-lidded eyes. ”Ooh! That’s not a bad idea for next time we’re in the bedroom, dearie~”
Horror alights across Cookie’s face, and her eyes quickly glue to yours. ”Good Heavens! So sorry Fluttashy! I don’t mean to talk so rash in front uh’ve you!”
You gently wave a hoof, spitting out your pencil. “I-it’s, um, actually a bit of a relief from earlier.”
Cookie hides her eyes with her hooves. ”Sweet Celestia, ya heard our sugartalk too!?”
Before you can breathe out an apology for something that is definitely not your fault, a unicorn in the row above yours leans over. ”Everypony this side, ngh, of the stadium heard it! The only reason I didn’t call for the guards is because, well, they’re on the field right now!”
Another chimes in “I mean, it’s, unf, pretty hot too!”
The unicorn concedes with a grumbly “yeah, that too.”
”A simply, m-my word, excellent way to watch Hoofball, I say.”
...
The conversation with Rarity’s parents dies out as the three of you turn away from each other to scan the stadium. It’s broken out into frenzied orgy.
You hadn’t even noticed the shift from cheers to moans.
It was all still so loud.
The Hoofball players on the field were slowly realizing the chaos around them, their galloping slowing to a crawl as the confusion set in. Funnily enough, the two who were the cause of this had now all but stopped. Seeing the game down below stop -or perhaps from catching sight of the score- Hondo is knocked from his awe.
”OH C’MON WAYFARERS!! THEIR DEFENSE IS OPEN!! YOU’RE THREE POINTS DOWN AND AT THE FIVE-YARD LINE, MAKE-A-FUCKING-PLAY!!”
Immediately, the crowd was whipped up again in some horrible cacophony of lewd moans and enraged cheers, a positive feedback loop in which one terrible noise fuels the other as the Whinnyapolis Wayfarer’s capitalize on the situation. The Guardsmen are trucked, flung painfully into the air as they’re caught staring at the stands. You cover your eyes, not wanting to see any of… ANYTHING that’s happening either on the field or directly around you.
Cookie rests a supportive hoof on your back. ”Um… I-if it helps any, dear: I think there’s a good tip to learn here.”
"P-please don’t say tip.”
”I caught Hondo when his guard was down, it made things all the easier to, well, like he said: Be likeah animal.”
... Yeah that’s enough of a lesson.
“Y-you’re right Mrs. Crumbles okaythankyoutwogoodbyestaysafeI’lltellRarityyousaidhi!”
Taking flight faster than maybe you ever had before, you’re on your way out of the stadium before Cookie could even respond. The two watch you go, both letting out a sigh.
”Oh, you don’t think we scarred the poor thing, do ya Hondie?”
Hondo Flanks pulls his straw hat overtop his eyes. ”Gosh, I don’t think we helped ‘er any at-”
But not low enough to obscure the game.
”YES! YES! THERE WE GO WAYFARER’S, THERE WE GO!”
Author's Note
Next chapter should be out in a day or so!
You tried.
You really did try.
That was just all too much.
Still, you couldn’t help but hope you hadn’t come off as rude. Surely not, right? Like, if anything, that’s the proper reaction to… All of that. Just leaving? That whole interaction was already going to be keeping you up tonight; and of course here you are now worrying about your own decorum during said interaction on top of it all.
Perhaps it’s poetic justice: Go around inquiring about other pony’s sex lives, you’re gonna end up seeing some sex. Or something. The wind had definitely been taken out of your sails, sure, but the Sparkle household wasn’t too far from Canterlot’s stadium. Er, the Velvet household, you suppose. The sun was falling to the horizon now anyway, and you’d prefer be on your way toward the Rock Farm after speaking with Twilight’s parents, rather than catching a train back to Ponyville for the night.
You’d rather avoid thinking about Ponyville at all for the moment, in fact.
The walk through late-afternoon Canterlot had been a good palate cleanser thus far, what with how the unicorns avoided undressed and winged-ponies alike. You were doubly free to collect your thoughts and reflect, taking your time to meander along the marbled streets of Equestria’s capital. Twilight had told you once a while ago where she’d grown up. Down to the address. She had a tendency to overshare, though perhaps unaware she was even doing so. A quirk of being a pony so consistently precise, as one who so loved to learn facts and factoids was often equally keen on sharing them too.
Addedly, you were a good listener.
Navigating through Canterlot’s high-class garden parks and neighborhood side streets, the unassuming, although no less easy on the eyes Velvet household came into view. You slow your pace some, taking in the sight, as well as double and triple checking the numbers on the houses that had lay closer to you to ensure you were going to be knocking on the right door. It struck you as odd that the parents of the Princess of Friendship would be living so equally among their peers. Never had it crossed your mind that royalty wouldn’t scale retroactively up the family tree. Perhaps this just reflected the kind of ponies Twilight’s parents were– you’d never met, after all. If your intuition is correct though, they should be your kind of ponies.
A few final moments of quiet contemplation are cherished, before you knock your hoof against the door of Sparkle’s fillyhood home. A muffled “oh!” vibrates through the weathered oak, and an approaching shuffling proceeds. So what if Rarity’s parents were more or less a bust? One-for-two so far is… Almost a passing grade.
You’re not out of this race yet!
Night Light answers the door, his face carrying about as much shock as it does joy. ”Well now! Velvet dear! You’ll never guess who’s at the door!”
You’d met him and Velvet both at Shining Armor’s wedding, and again at Twilight’s Coronation. A motherly voice echoes from deeper inside “oh? Surely not Twilight? Unless she’s made a surprise visit!?”
Your mouth can only begin to open, before another familiar voice shuts up your throat.
”Velvet, you know Twilight would’ve sent letters in advance long before making a visit… Heheh, unless of course Equestria were to be at stake. Again…”
A silence fills the air, Night Light and you silently agreeing through a shared look and restrained giggles to keep the two in suspense. It doesn’t take long for two– no, three heads to poke out from a hallway beyond the stallion. Twilight Velvet, flanked alongside Princess Cadence and Shining Armor, stare nervously from their defenses, surely dreading the worst.
“Hehe, no ‘fate of Equestria’ here today…”
Their fears die out in relieved sighs, and those are in turn swept away with delighted gasps.
”Fluttershy!? Oh, now this is a surprise! First my son and daughter-in-law, now a family friend! Tell me, are your friends with you? I can’t imagine you’ve come all this way on your own just for us?”
Night Light steps aside, allowing you entrance.
“F-funnily enough, that’s exactly what I’ve done.”
Cadence can hold herself back no longer. With a giddy “eee~!” you find yourself wrapped up in a great hug. ”Fluttershy! It’s been too long!”
Shiny bows his head politely, “I mean, what are the odds that you of all ponies swing by, by yourself no less?”
You return the Princess’ hug, and attempt to hold back your blush. All this attention, you’d never have expected. Though, you equally hadn’t expected Cadence and Shining to be here either. Another act of fate, you hope. “O-oh, I was just in the neighborhood…”
Alight (no pun intended) at the display before him, Night Light is nearly skipping back into the kitchen. ”Popcorn’s just about done, everypony! Fluttershy, please make yourself at home: We were just about to begin Scrabble!”
“Oh, joy!”
This was a much, much needed palate cleanser after earlier. The semi-reunited family was huddled together in the lofty living room, enjoying one another’s company as the sun began to set in clear view of the Velvet residence’s grand window. And here you were, immediately welcomed as not just a plus-one or third wheel, but truly one of their own.
”So, Flutters-” Shining began, tossing down another clump of magically-bonded popcorn kernels, “what brought you all the way to Canterlot? I’d imagine those animals of yours would keep your hooves full all the time. Some special birdseed around here or something?”
You cradle a drink Night Light made for you with both hooves as you survey your letter tiles; something purple and fruity, very easy on the tongue, though the presence of alcohol is obvious. “Well, I’m actually on a bit of a, hmm, quest at the moment.” You lean closer, digging your rump into the couch cushion under you to squint at your letters. “... Is ‘E-R-A-P’ a word? Erap? E-rap?”
”Sounds like a funky Zebrican genre” Velvet jokes, bumping her elbow against Night Light– the stallion himself lightly scoffing at his wife's unabashed buzz.
”A quest?” Cadence shakes her head and lightly laughs, “Fluttershy, you’ve really changed since last we spoke.”
“Oh, this is something personal; more like… A pilgrimage?”
”That sounds even more important!” Shining mockingly throws his hooves up, sending a coy glance to the unsuspecting Cadence before swinging them back down around her, rousing an 'eep~!’ from the alicorn. You stare for perhaps longer than you should, before averting your eyes back down idly spinning the melting ice in your drink, unable to hide your longing smile any other way.
“Well… Something like that.”
Far be it from you to be truly jealous, no ma’am, but you couldn’t deny being a little envious at the sight. The thought of Anon doing such a thing to you just sent your heart into a flurry. Just let that fantasy ride for only a few seconds more…
”Well? You can’t just leave us guessing, Fluttershy! What is it!?” Velvet, for her outward prim demeanor, seemed to be quite the little daredevil; if the many action shots of her and Night Light about in nature were context enough. Perhaps it was the warm setting, or the alcohol already getting the better of you, but your plea feels easier to speak aloud.
“I feel… like I’m at a sort of crossroads. I have somepony who I want to be closer with -who I’ve tried to get closer to- but it all feels in vain. I’ve just never felt this way about another pony before, so… Bah.”
Or maybe you were just getting better at this.
You take another sip from your glass, wetting your throat. “I’ve been at a loss for a while now, admittedly. I figured persistence and patience both were the answer… and I suppose I still do. I guess I’m just soul searching right now. Hoping to find the ‘how’ before I… crack, and need to face the ‘why,’ if that makes any sense.”
There it is, the shameful admittance. A lingering fear of yours, one which only dawned on you after so many rejections, and has only continued to build since. Still, in this state, so trusting of those around you, and somewhat sure even in your addled mind that this information wouldn’t leave this room: It rolls off your tongue easily enough. The words do well to thoroughly somber the mood though. They hang heavy for a few moments, silently echoing in the minds of your friends. So you give them time to ruminate, and hold back the gnawing thoughts that damn you for having ruined a good thing in the meantime.
All try to speak at once, but the others are quick to let Cadence lead the charge.
”Maybe facing the ‘why’ is what you should be doing instead, Fluttershy. If I’m understanding this right, and I believe that I am: You’re afraid that coming up empty-hoofed after so many failures would make all the effort for nothing?”
Velvet opens her mouth, about to soften the blow of Cadence’s bluntness, but she’s stopped with a gentle hoof to her thigh by the alicorn.
”A feeling of desperation, stemming from insecurity? You started late with love and now are unable to find it at all? ‘It has to be him, otherwise it will be nopony?’ Am I on the right track? Please, stop me if not.”
The sunk cost fallacy.
You speak quickly, punctuating yourself with a quick, deep sip.
“Yes exactly.”
As if the utterance aloud would surely damn it to be so– speak fast and quiet, so that fate may not hear you.
Cadence’s face falls in pity; the look one would give to a beggar when they themselves had no money to spare. Cadence, however, was one rich with both wisdom and love. ”Anonymous’ heart is one with many defensive delusions, much like your own. It’s a tough sell, to bring down your own walls and go on the attack, as it were. All you’ve ever known was isolation, guiding your desire of motherhood into raising pets, rather than foals. But that is what you want, isn’t it? You found somepony who might understand, somepony on equal grounds with you, but those equal grounds are impossible to meet when both parties are islands unto themselves.”
Wide eyed, you drink in the alicorn before you, her gentle words not piercing your mind painfully, but instead seamlessly misting through your many mental coping mechanisms. They have the same effect, though.
Reality check.
“Y-you know Anon?”
Cadence shakes her head. ”Not personally, but my heart can offer me a glimpse of him through your own. I’m not asking you to ask yourself if you’re really in love– I can see too that you are. I’m asking if you’ve ever really introduced him to Fluttershy; and why haven’t you?”
The glass quietly quakes in your hooves now.
”Not the Fluttershy you think would most appeal to him, or the Fluttershy you wish to be, or even– the Fluttershy you were prior to meeting him,”
”but the Fluttershy you are now. With your failures in hoof, and all your fears and doubts. The Fluttershy with so much love to shower him in. That’s your attack.”
This must be what separates mares from Princesses.
The ability to so gracefully destroy somepony and rebuild them on the same breath, with a tempered tone and a motherly face. Angelic efficiency. You aren’t sure what to do in the silent moments that follow. The others aren’t either, at least. Cadence had done her part though, and you knew nothing would move in here until you did first.
So you took initiative.
Nearly spilling your drink, you replace it in your hooves with your diary, and quickly begin recounting all that you could remember of the Princess’ words. Velvet leans to Cadence’s side, whispering “J-jeez Cadence, did you have to say it all like that? This 'Anon' colt is probably just a virgin…”
Cadence nods sagely.
”He is.”
The night would continue on, despite your fears after writing that the mood had been irredeemably killed. Seemingly, just as a Princess could reform a foe, she too could reform a buzzkill.
And reform Cadence had.
Velvet now sips on her own bottle of wine, no longer even bothering with a glass. The others had long since found their voices to add to the conversation. ”... And I mean, that’s the same thing I always tell Twilight: ‘Momma’s gettin’ older, and those books can only tell you how a foal is made, it’s not gonna give me any grandfillies!’ She’s just got no interest in stallions. I’d think she was a lesbian, and gosh, fine if she is, we already got Flurry Heart right?“ Velvet gigglesnorts at her own joke, “but one just isn’t enough! I mean, Cadence can’t do ALL the work!”
Shining casts a smug, sidelong smirk at his wife. ”You sure?”
Velvet waves off in her son’s direction, leaning in toward you. ”Have you tried singing to him? Colts go GAGA when you sing for them! I once sang for Night-Night here and oh! Eating out of the frog of my hoof, I tell you!”
Night Light rolls his eyes, talking into his whiskey. ”That’s not how I remember it going down…”
Magic envelopes Night’s ear as Velvet playfully pulls on it. ”Shh! Quiet, you~”
“S-singing? I think that was… um… my 490’th attempt? Maybe low 500’s?”
”And he still didn’t bite? Colt’s picky, picky-picky-picky.”
Flushed, you sigh into your glass. “Gah, you don’t know the half of it…”
Not wanting to stall the game any longer, you divert your woes. “I-I still don’t know what to make with these letters. ‘Pare?’ Is pare a word?”
Shining Armor flits through a dictionary with telekinetic muscle memory. "Pare- Verb. ‘To reduce in size, extent, quantity, or number, usually in a number of small successive stages.’ It works!”
The rest of the party clops their hooves together as you (carefully) lay out your letters on the board. Night Light, well into his drinks alongside the rest of you, nudges his wife. ”You’ll be, hic, parin’ me tonight in the bedroom. Haha c’mon Shiny, up top!”
Shining seeks instead to plant his hoof in his face, rather than meet his father’s. ”Gross, dad…” Still, you can see his embarrassed smile underneath, as well as Velvet’s tail begin to wag, slapping against her husband despite her growing blush.
”My, dear, we have guests~...”
For all her thrill-seeking pursuits, it seems Twilight is not the one in charge when it comes to adventures more carnal. Trying (and failing) to hold back your giggles, you can’t help but wonder if her daughter is the same way. Cadence laughs too, pressing herself into Shining’s side. You make eye contact with her once again, and this time, she must notice the longing in your eyes. Shining leans back into her, still shaking his head at his father’s antics. It’s unspoken, but you understand the meaning behind her look.
You don’t have all the answers yet...
But you do have a start.
One day, you’ll be where Cadence is, and Anon will be at your side.
Author's Note
Double feature, Velvet AND Cadence! There are more mommas than just the Mane Six, after all!is complete though, and lucky the conversion process from greentext into prose is coming along easy, so I should be able to upload a new chapter daily. Funnily enough, you can kinda gauge how far along we are by the amount of mommas Shy's visited– so I'll keep you guessing as to how many days we'll need before it's fully uploaded.
Anyway, hope you're enjoying!
The ride out to Rock Country would be a long one. Fine for you, since the moon was already high in the night sky. You’d had a long day today. It was nigh unheard of for you to venture out to so many places all on your own. That, paired with your… many realizations and confessions– to authority figures no less. In hindsight, it was hard to believe that you’d done the things you had.
At this same time last night, what were you doing? Putting the animals to bed, and going over the morning’s plan in your head. Like a broken record you had to psych yourself up for it, otherwise what should’ve been excitement would quickly falter and turn to anxiety. You could never really get away from that anxiety, but that was always true.
'Let the ride be bumpy, as long as you make it to your destination' you suppose.
Well, you hadn’t got there yet, but you still had some gas left in you.
Nopony ever took this train, especially not from Canterlot. If they did, they wouldn’t do it so late at night, nor would they be stopping in Rock Country. It was a sort of pit stop set up along the route to Southern Equestria, one built mainly out of courtesy once Princess Celestia had caught wind that some settler ponies were looking to build a homestead out among the boulders. Pinkie Pie had once told you that Celestia herself assumed that there would be more than just a single family going out to join them, expecting a town to crop up among the rocky faults and gem-rich cliffs. Nothing of the sort happened, despite how profitable the land seemed to be.
Celestia still OK’d the construction of a railway near the Rock Farm, despite seeing this to be the case. Surely, out of love for her ponies; not wishing them to be stranded out on their own, should they wish to leave. You’re not sure how Pinkie knew all of this, down to the business agreements that must’ve happened back in Canterlot prior to her own birth– but truth be told you didn’t know how Pinkie knew most of the things she seemed to know. Questions like that were best left to Twilight, or maybe even Pinkie herself. Maybe one day others would go out to the Southwestern-Equestrian frontier, but until then Pinkie’s family was all but alone with themselves.
Regardless, you welcomed the chance for some quiet reflection, your buzz gently rocking you to sleep in the empty, moon-lit cabin. You kept the blinds open for now, washing your diary in blinking moonlight as the train sped toward your next visit. Scrunched up in a sort of fetal position, laying on your side, you nudge to the next page with your snout as your tail absentmindedly sways back and forth along whatever space wasn’t being occupied by your butt. Despite your infrequent hiccups and wandering mind, you focus the best you can on the notes you’d jotted down from the day.
’WW- Voyeurism. Takeaway: Do things together. Share interests. Be punctual. Slap Anon’s butt.’
Some good points there.
’CC- Exhibitionism. Takeaway: Do things together. Have sex in public. Be an animal. Unintentionally cause orgies.’
...
’TV- Not sure. Takeaway: Drink alcohol together. Play Scrabble. Purposefully talk up your sex life around Anon in the hopes that he’ll call your bluff later in the bedroom.’
You like pretty much all of those, to varying degrees.
Your eyes drift almost cautiously over the latest edition you’d hastefully scribbled into your chart. Cadence… hadn’t been mean, no. But she had been blunt. That bluntness hurt. You had no choice but to listen the first time around. Nopony would know if you just… Didn’t think about her words again.
So you don’t.
You don’t read them for a long time.
This train wouldn’t reach the Rock Farm till morning, after all.
Plenty of time to stare at the other entries, flip through past pages, even stare longingly at the increasingly arid landscape as those fantasies you held so dear played on repeat in your head.
Escaping from the truth.
When the heat is on, you waver.
You melt.
In that quiet, empty train car, nopony hears your turmoil. You cry, and heave, and wish you didn’t need to do this. Wish you had been born a stronger, more sure pony. A pony like Rainbow, who could put her mind to a task and face it down no matter what. A pony like Twilight, who simply chose to not pursue a suitor out of her higher calling in life. Or Rarity, or Applejack, or Pinkie, or anypony else stronger than you.
You hate Anon.
Hate what he does to you.
He doesn’t even know how he changed you.
He doesn’t even know how much you love him.
You’ve been somepony else this whole time. A shadow of Fluttershy, knocking on his door every morning and dancing like a puppet. You don’t need to read Cadence’s words, though you do anyway.
’PC- Not sure. Takeaway: Two islands will never get closer to each other unless one moves first. I want foals. I want love. Be Fluttershy.’
A weak, poorly written jumble of nonsense that’d read as insane to anypony with sense, and now pocked with teardrops to boot. You didn’t need to write them down. They'd been echoing in your mind for hours now. Sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight, but the rhythmic rocking of the cabin works eventually. The sun wakes you up first, and the train chugs to a stop soon enough.
Anon must think himself lucky.
He wouldn’t be getting a visit this morning.
It’s a quiet walk to the farm.
Though there was the train station, one could only see the Rock Farm as an irregular bulge close to the horizon.
Fine by you.
You weren’t in a rush.
A breeze howls through these so commonly windswept plains– stray gusts from the San Palomino Desert. They weaken considerably by the time they reach here, their path broken up by many jagged outcroppings of earth speared upward from the ground; themselves not quite mountains, but more like fragments of some ancient dragon’s cracked jewelry. The fear of that comparison isn’t lost on you. Your emotions still weigh heavy over your heart.
This was tiring, stupid business.
But you were here now, so thoughts of your distant bed and warm, loving hands weren’t worth thinking on. The sliding of loose gravel under your hooves feels dangerous, as if this whole land were moments away from crumbling into a great sinkhole below. Pegasus, though you might be- you’ve felt the fear of falling before.
And you hadn’t acted then, either.
It’s a quiet walk to the farm.
She didn’t come by today.
It shouldn’t alarm you.
It shouldn’t make you nervous.
Still– you find yourself lingering by the door as you pass it throughout the morning. Did she finally take the hint?
... Doubtful.
She must be planning something; might’ve been an emergency at the cottage. Or been in an accident herself. Whatever the reason, it’s not your problem. You cross your arms and stubbornly try to stand by this train of thought, sitting on the couch and pretending you felt relaxed.
Seconds tick by, and the silence of your home brings with it no relief.
...
You’re out the door before you can kick your feet up on the coffee table.
No sign of her at the cottage.
You stand before a meandering flock of geese near Fluttershy’s pond, looming over them with crossed arms like they ought to know what you’re looking for. You’re not about to try communicating with waterfowl, so your impatient display will have to do.
”Honk.”
They’ll crack eventually.
A big one ducks its head below the water, before popping back up and shaking stray droplets all over your shoes. They’re tough cookies, gotta give ‘em that.
“... Fucking- okay. Where’s Fluttershy.”
One of the babies turns its head to you.
”Honk.”
You’re an idiot, Anon.
”Hail thee, I quote: ‘Number-One-Best-Friend-Of-Rainbow-Dash-Champion-Holder-Eighteen-Years-In-A-Row,’ I am Igneous Rock. Thou does not go by this previously mentioned moniker, I suspect, and therefore will henceforth deem to address thou by given maiden name, Miss Fluttershy, lest thou decree against this. Though welcome presently as kin of mine own sireage, curiosity beg mine asking: By what pretense draw ye unto our family’s Celestia-given homestead?”
You blink.
Silence reigns.
You blink again.
Igneous Rock continues to stare, seemingly unfazed by your lack of response.
“Do… Do I have the wrong house?”
You know you don’t– but this just doesn’t seem possible.
”Perhaps, forsooth, thou do. If thou hast not come in search of the Pie family, then thou hast indeed come unto erroneous hearth.”
It’s possible.
By Celestia, how did Pinkie never mention this. How is Pinkie… even Pinkie.
“... N-no, I am, um, looking for the Pie residence. Here, I mean.”
Igneous continues his seemingly bored staring. ”Then, hark. My kin currently are at work, harvesting that which is struck from the earth. However, due to current auspicious happenstance, I will deem it proper to call them from their toil to sup morning’s meal early. Please make way, Miss Fluttershy.”
Still unable to believe the sight, you follow the stallion’s every move as he, with slow poise unmatched by anypony you’d ever seen, meticulously makes his way to a nearby bell. It is rung exactly three times, and, after a minute spent in silence, three figures appear from a distant quarry. They each keep their gait slow, though it’s obvious which among them moves as Igneous does. You’d seen pictures of Pinkie’s other sisters, though you hadn’t seen her mother or father. Limestone and Marble, you can identify, and the third among them, you assume must be their mother. If Pinkie had ever told you her name, you did not remember it.
In time, on their own time, the trio come to meet you.
”Fair welcome, I quote: ‘Number-One-Best-Friend-Of-Rainbow-Dash-Champion-’ “
“J-just Fluttershy will suffice.”
The mare with a tight bun stares for a moment, before nodding chastely. ”Indeed. Fair welcome, Miss Fluttershy. I am Cloudy Quartz. These are but two of our four daughters, Limestone Pie and Marble Pie. Thou hast long since known both Pinkamena Diane Pie and Maud Pie, as I oft have been informed by Pinkamena’s letters from your town of Ponyville. Please, daughters, do give Miss Fluttershy proper greeting whilst I venture to question father on his early ringing.”
Limestone gives you a mumbled greeting, before catching on and spitting the small pic from her mouth.
”Hey.”
Marble, on the other hand, gives only but a mumbled greeting.
”Mmh.”
“U-umm… H-hark to, to thoust both, gentle… mares.”
Cloudy’s head snaps to you, and Igneous’ eyes go wide.
“Eep! I’msorry.” You whisper, flinching in place.
” ‘Tis no issu-”
Cloudy cuts off her husband. ”Thou may speaketh as we if thou so chooseth, please, forgive mine sudden arousal at thy words. I did not know thou were one of our own, truly.”
Limestone rolls her eyes, moving past you to get inside. ”You don’t need to talk like that, Miss Fluttershy. I don’t know why they do it either.”
Even Marble nods her head, still not choking out more than a peep, before following close behind her big sister. You swap your sight between the two groups breaking apart, unsure of what to do next.
”Cloudy Quartz, dearest wife mine, I have rung the bell out of the occasion of having Miss Fluttershy’s visitation. I believe it necessary to celebrate with break fast early.”
If you didn’t know any better, Cloudy and Igneous were in a very intense staring contest.
But both parties were also seemingly very bored.
”Thoust made the proper decision, husband Igneous Rock.” Appeased, Cloudy turns back to you. ”Miss Fluttershy, thou must ache with hunger, after traversal of such that is in pursuit of our homestead. Please, enter and join us for a meal.”
Indeed, you certainly did ache with hunger. The thought hadn’t even struck you until now. All you had eaten yesterday was breakfast and a bit of popcorn after nightfall. Drive can… get in the way of things, it seems.
Rock soup, while visually unappetizing, isn’t something to knock before trying. You tip your third serving to your mouth, sputtering a bit as the lump of rock bumps against your upper lip– still not quite used to the mechanics. It’s a… drab mood, not to be rude. All tend to their own bowls of soup chastely, with Igneous dolling out refills with a ladle on standby as his daughters finish their portions.
Not often are you the one to break the silence.
“So… I cometh to thy, um, humble abode out of desire to- to plea for advice.”
Cloudy shifts her eyes up from her meal, dabbing at her lips with a tablecloth before speaking. ”Thoust come far, seeking only advice. Please, share thine plea so that we may assist.” If Cloudy was judging your poor imitation of her family’s mannerisms, she hid it well under her monotone veil. Would… Would they be upset if you told them? Pinkie’s parents seem rather conservative, to say the least.
You may need to tread carefully here.
“Mine conundrum is such: The suitor this heart pines for is… n-not returning mine affections. I’ve tried in many different ways to make him see the lengths of my longing, but alas. I-if there’s any hope at all for success, I cannot… yield it without the aid of others. So if I may be so bold to ask, how is it you found love with Mr. Igneous Rock?”
Unceremoniously, each pony’s bowl finds it’s way back down to the table.
If things were quiet before, well, they’re silent now.
Oh my.
Cloudy’s disposition doesn’t break, if that’s at all a good sign. ”Once, two families called this land home. We tilled our fields nearer and nearer until our rocks becameth theirs, and so too did this family.”
Igneous nods. ”Indeed. Mine family’s patriarch found it proper to consolidate, and just as the sedimentary conglomerate binds in the riverbed, it was made so.”
Limestone rolls her eyes, returning her soup.
“... Gosh, that’d make things easier on my- er, mine end.”
Cloudy’s ears fold back ever so slightly for a moment, no doubt due to your flagrant exclamation. ”Pardon. Reminiscing on such carnal pleasures has myself betwixt with emotion. I will return.” Cloudy excuses herself into another room, never once showing any tell that she’d actually felt anything at all.
Igneous too seems to feel that same ‘heat,’ his eyes falling shut as his wife exits the dining room.
... That is to say, up until he thinks her out of earshot.
”S-she’s a monster in bed. It’s brutal.”
Limestone chokes on her soup, the wooden bowl spilling over the table.
“W-whuh…”
”Yeah, I mean, gosh, yeah. She goes ballistic.”
Igneous’ whole disposition changes- the once calm, grim stallion whispering out his secrets like a guilty sinner before a Priest. ”I-I don’t even know where she came from. I was just farming the rocks like always, I blink– and we have four foals. I mean, you can’t explain that.”
You chance a look to his daughters, and you find their eyes too meet yours, surely looking for some sort of guidance.
I-is this your fault?
This is your fault.
Igneous continues, almost shaking as he hunches over the table, breaking many unspoken rules of dining decorum. ”A-and the talking thing? I-I don’t know why she likes it, but oh my Celestia she nearly kills me after dinner each night. How we don’t have an army farming these quarries, I can’t tell you but–”
Cloudy returns through the doorway, looking no different.
You feel dirty.
Like you need to brush your teeth.
Just like that, the clock is reset.
Igneous doesn’t even clear his throat.
Silence reigns yet again.
Nopony seems keen on eating anymore.
Well, except for Cloudy.
”Hast thou taken thine fill? Thou may stay with us for the night, but if that was all thine heart sought, one would believe thou return home should be taken with a lined gut.”
“I-I’m stuffed.”
You spot the tiniest downward curl upon the matriarch’s lip as her eyes return to her broth. It’s small, but it’s there.
Poor Igneous.
What have you done to Limestone and Marble.
They’ll never look at their parents the same way again.
“Har- ck!!”
That ‘hark’ may have come out a bit more like a cough. You hope Cloudy doesn’t think you’re a quitter.
“I-if I may, um, get back on track: I always just seem to… to stumble when I’m around my suitor. I just can’t take the pressure, or my head gets all… crazy…”
So too do you stumble to find the words that might define your emotions. Yet again, you do yourself no favors, even when outright begging for help. ”I just can’t get it right. I always melt. Now my fear is: Have I dug myself too deep? Even if I knew the trick to win Anon’s heart; he’s given me so many chances and I’ve blown every single one. What if he’s just waiting me out? It’s… it’s so easy to say no, and– and so hard to throw myself at his door every day, and– ooh… I’m rambling…”
Sure, tell them the same thing you’ve told all the others. This will be another bust of a visit, just like with Hondo and Cookie. Just like with all the families, in fact. You’ve learned nothing– there’s been no eureka. A sad march across Equestria is all; embarrassing yourself in front of parental figures. Your voice trails off and you wallow in the glum expression you see in the traces of broth that fill your bowl. It’s rippling doesn’t make you feel any better. As if you hadn’t managed to ruin the Pie family’s breakfast enough: Crying at the table surely must seal the deal.
”... I admit, thoust not the mare I assumed, and shame on me for the forwardness to do as such.”
You peer up from your sulking.
Cloudy Quartz meets your woes not with confusion or spite, oddly enough. Shame upon thou for ye own forwardness.
”From mine readings of ‘Mothers and Fathers of The Elements of Harmony Penpals;’ and Husband Igneous and mineself’s discussions on said readings thereafter: We were of the shared thought that thoust be a pony of exceeding courage and fortitude,” Cloudy idly repositions her bowl, making it inline with the other bowls on the table. ”Our own reared Pinkamena Diane Pie hast time and time again heralded similar assurances on thine character, and yet; I see not that mare before me.”
Ouch, though correct.
The Pie matriarch taps a hoof to her lip. ”And yet, my mind does struggle to define the veal of a mare otherwise, who’d venture so wide across Equestrian plains for but matters of family. None forced ye, but thy fears be damned, thoust still present thineself before those who are none but strangers to thee, and bare thine aching heart all the same on matters so dear– pining for the assured virgin Anon's hoof.”
Her eyes fall closed, and Celestia as your witness, you swear you can just barely make out the twinges of a knowing smirk on her lips.
”Thoust say thou ‘melts,’ but I ask just this: Why then have ye not yet melted before ourselves? Tears, so be it; ye still remain at mine table. I see loyalty, devotion, and honor before me. Nothing less. Ye, who, by Pinkamena’s own words: ‘Stared at a big scary ancient dragon until he exploded into a big weepy baby?’ “
Limestone remarks “you exploded a dragon!?”
Cloudy resumes before you can explain that no exploding was involved.
”Further: ‘Personally lead the charge of a super-duper tired army of pegasi to funnel water all the way up to Cloudsdale?’ If thou consider these feats as failures, I cannot but wonder how you define success.”
Your wings begin to fold around you as you retreat behind your mane, so that your blush might be hidden. “G-gosh… I didn’t know Pinkie wrote so much about me…”
Igneous chirps up “she and Maud are the scholars of our family.”
Limestone rolls her eyes.
Readying her final punch, Cloudy starts herself again.
”How then, since thou now standeth before us, can’t these fears that grip ye so tightly be all but thoust mind rebelling against thineself? Because the mare I see before me may stumble, as we are all w’ont to do sometime or another, but ne’er will she fall.”
To your utter shock, Cloudy again rises from her seat, but this time she comes to you. Her gait remains measured, her tone unchanged; but here she is now, gently cupping a hoof to your cheek in support.
”This mare, of whom I’ve heard only cheers and praises lauded following utterance of her name, how can she not hear that which all ponies who possess the good fortune to witness her proclaim? How can she not see the thanks upon their faces?”
”Hark, there’s great fire within thee, Fluttershy. Perhaps it burns bright enough that ye mistake it for melting.”
... Damn anypony who’d cock their head or turn up their snout at the Pie Family’s vernacular. You throw yourself around Cloudy’s neck, wrap her in a bear hug fit for Harry, and just sob. You sob for a long while, and you don’t care. All the while, Cloudy Quartz returns your affection, whispering sweet archaic lullabies into your mane as you weep. You don’t care how far away they live, you’d be visiting the Rock Farm again soon.
Author's Note
Two mommas left to go, yeah?
You were nearing the end of your little journey now.
After this last stop, you’d be back on your way to the first place you’d wanted to visit all along. Funny how that works. Initially, you’d felt so invigorated by Windy and Bo, you were already on the train to Canterlot by the time you remembered you were going to visit your own mother. You laugh at the thought, but the noise dies quickly on the wind, finding it to be ill-fitting for your locale.
But…
You give another look about.
A long way from the Rock Farm now, and actually, on Applejack’s property. Right on its border. You didn’t… you didn’t rightly know where Applejack’s parents were buried. The idea of finding out, let alone showing up there, seemed ghoulish enough itself. What you did know though– was the existence of this tree.
Applejack had shown it to you and the rest of the girls some time back, after a night of drinking had overstayed its welcome, yet nopony wanted it to end. You and the others didn’t talk much during that time; had just hung back by the edge of the clearing and let Applejack get out of earshot while she did what she needed to for a little while. That night, despite AJ’s mumbling and your own inebriation, you’d heard the names of what must’ve been her parents.
You didn’t think you’d need to say anything here.
A great physical concoction stands tall before you: Two fruit trees spiraling about one another in a mutual embrace the likes of which you’d never seen in nature otherwise. Their trunks are sturdy, and their many branches abound with life even still. You take a few more tentative steps into the clearing with the two trees that had become one, even as your mind begins to tell you again that this was a silly, disrespectful idea.
That is to say, you didn’t have much of an idea coming here at all.
Perhaps doing so takes away from your entire premise as a whole, as though this was simply just the next box to check off your list, rather than a legitimate attempt to gain insight.
... Well, you’d feel even sillier if you took this detour only to turn back the moment you arrived.
So you approach the tree, up to it’s thick conjoined trunks, and lay yourself back against it. You’d been on the move for nearly three days now, wrestling with your mind all the while too. For a pony so “driven,” as Cloudy and Cadence had pointed out, you sure kept your reservations at the forefront of your mind. You still weren’t sure if you believed them anyhow– what with being some crazy pony showing up at their doors, more often than not already on the verge of tears…Seems about right that most ponies would just say whatever it is she probably most wants to hear to diffuse the tension, or maybe just make her go away.
’You’re strong. There’s something more to you. Just try a new approach, show him the real you.’
Sweet nothings.
You look up to the sky, the many leaves above shielding your eyes from the bright sun that’d be beating down on you otherwise as a breeze begins to rustle through your mane.
Though, that’s you doing it again, isn’t it?
Pushing away the words of ponies who love you.
It’s easier to just shrug off their advice as simple lip service when you don’t want to put in any effort to apply them. Any more effort than you’ve already applied, at least. You’ve applied yourself so much already; even if a lot of that ended up only building your own walls of self-doubt up stronger.
Rest from these woes has only two paths from this point:
Either you get what you wanted all along–
Or you give up on Anon.
...
Just as your eyes begin to flutter shut, lounging on your back against the Applepear tree, a familiar voice wrenches you from rest.
”... Now who in tarnation could–”
You keep your eyes closed, but you know sleep isn’t coming now. The Fluttershy of a few days ago would stand and grant Granny Smith with the proper politeness an elder, especially one of her wisdom, deserves. You weren’t feeling like that Fluttershy at the moment.
Her rickety hooves eventually make their way over to where you lounged. ”Ehh… Fluttershy? Yous takin’ a snooze? Figured yall pegasi preferred to go a’nappin in the clouds and such.”
Thankfully, she seems moreso confused than anything else. The last thing you wanted right now was to stumble through an awkward apology for falling asleep on what might be considered to the Apples as hallowed ground. Your eyes bloom open and come face to face with the Apple family matriarch looming overhead, scratching her mane at the sight below.
“Good, um, morning Granny Smith.”
”Euhh… it’s two past noon, youngin’.”
... You’re not helping your case here any.
“S-sorry. I’ve just gotten back from Southern Equestria. It was a long trip and, well, I had a lot on my mind.”
Granny’s voice gives off an illusion of a mare slowed by time, but that certainly wasn’t the case for her at all. Time had granted her wisdom and that alone, and it read as such on her face as she quickly caught on to how you’d been feeling. Gingerly, she takes the spot next to you, looking out at the thin stretch of land that once separated the Apple family property from the Pears, flanked on both sides by strong orchards. ”Southern Equestria’s a mighty long ways of travelin’ all on yer own. Unlikely ov’ya too. Now what’s gone and given you tha wanderin’ bug?”
You’ve heard this rare measured tone from Granny only a few times; probably something most often reserved for private moments with her family. Blessed are you to be its focus now.
“It’s about a colt.”
No sense really in beating around the bush anymore.
”Aaah. Still kickin’ for that Anonemoose fella.”
She knew, but it’s nice of her to act surprised. The whole town had long since known you’d never given up.
”Still don’t rightly see how that equates to ya’s rollin out to the frontier lands. Mind givin’ this ol’timer the story?”
The leaves gently sway overhead, providing much shade from the afternoon sun.
“Oh… There really isn’t much to it, ma’am. I was just… acting silly.”
Granny smacks her lips, unconvinced. ”Hm. Colts can certainly have that effect on a filly. Know the feelin’ well meself.” You feel Granny shift at your side, pressing herself into what must be a more comfortable position as she readies herself for a story. ”Ah’d been younger than you, by a fair bit I believe, but bit by tha lovebug just as hard. Worse yet, the farm wasn’t about ta wait on me to court that fine hunk o’ stallion either, just how ah’m sure yer animals don’t rightly understand yer woes either.”
You giggle, hiding your face in your hooves at Granny’s reminiscing. “They actually can be a lot more supportive than you’d think, but I certainly understand where you’re coming from. Admittedly, their advice is always quite, um, biased?”
Granny hoots, looking down at you. ”Oho, Ah bet! Theys got tha right ideas though! Dang colts can’t see what’s right in front ‘ovem. A bunny on tha other hoof will just hop on his lover’s back an’ cut to tha gist!”
The shared laughter fades, your hooves slowly drag down your face before flopping at your sides.
“Never worked when I did it, no.”
”No no, never does. But that’s mah point: You can’t be waitin’ on no farm to up an give yuh the time, and you can’t expect no critters to go understandin’ the intricacies of pony courtship. Us big critters like to complicate things a’plenty.”
“So what’d you do?”
”Fought em’. Thought I could be stronger than mah feelins’, stronger than mah urges.”
Granny looks away, her aged eyes scanning the pillars of treetrunks dotting the range. ”Thought Ah couldn’t lose if Ah stopped playin’ that courtship game. Tried convincin’ mahself it was only a crush, and that Ah’d been gettin’ lazy with mah chores to where my mind started wanderin’ off about silly things. Truth is, wantin’ love ain't no silly thing, and choosin’ to not play is nothin’ more than given’ away valuable time.”
A breeze picks up, sending a few scant leaves flittering away from each of the great many trees surrounding the two of you.
”Valuable time to still have a chance?”
”Valuable time fer everything, Fluttershy. Ya can say you ain’t playin’ no more, but that doesn’t mean the game stops. You just ain’t gettin’ closer to winnin’, while everypony else is. When yer feelins’ get the better of ya, and believe me, your stubbornness ain’t ever gonna outlast yer feelins’, you gotta work that much harder now to catch up.”
She casts her sight back down at you, her eyelids heavy.
You’ve never seen Granny Smith so concerned– heard such a shake in her voice. ”And then, what of all that time? Time that could’a put you so much closer to winnin’ his heart. Time that could’a been spent sittin’ by his side, talkin’ and sharin’ kisses. Time spent on silly, stubborn sufferin’...”
A hoof finds it’s way to your mane and gently caresses. Granny must’ve noticed her words were sending you into a reflective spiral. She reigns back her own emotions, measuring her tone once more. ”Sometimes, we foolish ponies need that sorta thing. It’s the stars above guidin’ us into our proper penance for actin’ the way we do. What’s important, and, what it is them stars are tryin’ to teach– is that we ain’t ready yet. There’s lessons in those miserable times, and you’ll accept ‘em when yer ready to. Then you can get back into chasin’ hearts.”
“So… I should take a break away from Anon?”
Knowingly, Granny shakes her head. ”Filly, how long have ya been travelin’ across Equestria?”
“Um, a little over two days now.”
”And why’d you go an’ do all that?”
“... T-to try to win Anon’s heart?”
”So why in Celestia’s name would ya go an’ do all that just to stop goin’ after Anon?”
”When Ah was in yer spot, I closed myself up. Ah said ‘nope, not doin’ this no more’ and tried goin’ back to how things were before Ah’d fallen in love. You on the other hoof went visitin’ distant kinfolks fer advice. An, from how you was lookin’ when I stumbled onto ya, it ain’t been too fun trottin’ down memory lane, huh.”
You shake your head, feeling more than a bit embarrassed now.
”Well then, Ah reckon you’re about done with your sorrows. Yer lucky, two days ain’t no time at all. Some folks ain’t so proper-witted.”
”Tell me, who’s left on your adventure, hm? Or did ya save the best fer last, visitin’ me and these two lovebugs?”
Granny knocks a hoof against the sturdy applepear tree, winking at you.
“... My own mother and father, to tell you the truth.”
The smile damn near flees Granny’s face as her bawking turns to chiding. ”Yo– filly! You dun git yer beehind off mah property and go see yer momma pronto! She shoulda been yer first stop!”
A cold spike shoots through you, and in moments you’re scrambling into the sky. You thought Granny was actually mad– up until you heard her screaming out from below you. ”And don’t you be comin’ back this way until Anoonemoose gets you a ring, missy!”
Breathing a sigh of relief, you turn in the sky, giving the Applefamily matriarch a salute.
“Y-yes ma’am!”
With that, you’re off toward Cloudsdale once more.
“I don’t know, Pinkie; it just strikes me as odd.”
Your increasingly frustrating search for Fluttershy had somehow led to an unlikely pony to vent towards.
”Dunno what to tell ya, Nonny: I haven’t seen Fluttershy even in passing these past few days.” Pinkie ruminates on that for a moment before giggling, ”hehe, that sounds funny, doesn’t it? ‘Passing these past few days.’ “
Though, if anyone would be keeping tabs on her friend’s whereabouts, consciously or not, it’d probably be Pinkie.
“I just think… I don’t know. Maybe something happened to her? An accident? It’s not like her to skip out on visiting.”
Pinkie throws her forelegs crossed onto your table, innocently peering up into your eyes.
”Sounds like you miss her.”
You sigh.
“Behavioral conditioning via artificial regime is a bitch, I guess.”
”I think they call that Stockholm Syndrome, Nonners.”
You raise an eyebrow. “They call it that here too?”
Pinkie cocks her head in return. ”Call what it?”
This is no hill to die on, Anon.
Thankfully, you’re no stranger when it comes to going with the flow. That might be why doing all this wild goose chasing feels doubly bothersome. As much as you don’t want to admit it, this whole process is a lot more enjoyable when Flutters is doing the chasing.
Er, easier.
You recline back on your haystack stool, leaning your body out from under the umbrella of the Sugarcube Corner’s outdoor seating. The spot seemed utterly slammed today, and with Pinkie on break, the line began to funnel out from the building. “Agh– you’re right Pinkie, I’ve been marching to and fro across town all day today. She’ll come when she comes.”
Pinke giggles. ”That sounds kinda funny too. ‘Come when she comes.’ “
Eh, about what you expected from Pinkie. She’s either no help at all, or somehow nets you exactly what you needed all along. Seems the former today, but good company all the same.
”Honestly, I’d expect you out of anypony to know where Fluttershy might be at any given time, Nonny.”
“Just because we’re always together doesn’t mean it’s by choice.”
Your tablemate rubs her foreleg, a pantomime of being taken aback. ”Yeesh, that’s harsh, ‘Nons.”
A frown worms its way onto your face; but before you can get on damage control and reassure Pinkie that you didn’t mean it that way–
”Pinkieee!” Mrs. Cake’s whine carries across the crowd overflowing out from the bakery’s door. ”C-can you get back in here? This lunch rush is never-ending and the line is spilling out into the street! We could really use you in the kitchen!”
For better or for worse, your conversation is cut there.
You send a coy smirk Pinkie’s way as she scrambles to revert from break-mode back into working order. ”S-sorry Nonny! Duty calls; but good luck on finding Fluttershy!” At that, Pinkie zips away, disappearing into the increasingly-irritated crowd of murmurs piling up outside Sugarcube Corner, leaving you once again alone with your thoughts.
Not for long, though.
”Is this seat occupied?”
“No. You’re welcome to sit.”
”Ah, I appreciate it, sir.”
You answer on autopilot, still lost in your own head with your eyes shut. While the waiting ponies continue to stack around you, steadily filling the air with idle conversation amongst one another as they wait, your two-person table keeps an aura of silence for a minute or so.
”... Not many seats open out here, is this place always so congested?”
“By this hour? Shouldn’t be. Everyone got a late lunch, I suppose.”
Your new company mumbles under his breath. Maybe he was lost in his own thoughts too. ”I-I hope I’m not bothering you, I just thought I’d heard somepony’s name, then I saw the open seat. Been traveling all day, you see.”
Seemed this guy wanted to chat, so you crack open your eyes and properly engage yourself back to the table. Not everyday you see a pony with a mustache. “Just looking for somewhere to collect yourself then? This spot’s hardly the place to do it, what with the crowd. You new to Ponyville?”
The stallion fiddles with his hooves, dodging your eyes. ... Yeesh, was that the wrong thing to say? Maybe Pinkie was right: You are too harsh.
”Y-you could say that, yes. It’s not very often I leave Cloudsdale. I work in the Weather Factory, you see.”
Well, it’s been clear thus far that you weren’t going to be making any headway into finding Fluttershy.
... Not like it’s even a pressing matter anyway. You were just curious why she hadn’t shown up the past few days. There really isn’t much reason to be so focused on it, come to think of it. You’d just been without anything else to do this weekend.
Right?
Better to spend your time with a potential new friend than loitering outside Sugarcube Corner, getting nothing done. Surely you’d send Twilight through the roof with the news too, if you manage to not blow this. God knows you need more guy friends too.
“Well… hey,” you put a hand on the table, pointing a thumb toward the nearby park with the other. “There’s a much better spot to relax around here. Plenty of foliage too, if you’re into that kinda shi- stuff. I can show you there, if you’d like.”
Your new companion lights up, his wings even fluttering slightly at the news. ”Really? Oh– w-well, sure! Admittedly, this was the first place to sit I saw when I was flying down here, but the noise is a bit much. A park sounds like a much better alternative.”
You simply nod, stretching as you take your stand. "Follow along, then. Can even give a bit of a tour as we go too. Name’s Anon.”
Surprise briefly flashes across the stallion’s face, but it’s gone before you can really wonder why.
”G-Gentle Breeze, pleasure to meet you.”
Gentle Breeze, as you’d come to discover, carried with him a fiery passion; along with a mental library worth of knowledge regarding said passion. All it took was one idle comment about the weather to break the ice. A new stallion entirely burst forth beside you, commenting on the current cloud formations overhead as though it was self-evident as to why they’d been placed where they were. Not that he was condescending, far from it, but instead his ease of articulating such foreign concepts to your still-adjusting earthly mind spoke to his excess knowledge. You spend much of your walk through Ponyville merely listening, genuine interest spurned up from Breeze's eloquence alone.
”... A-and, I mean, it’s just so relieving to know the Factory is going to be in good hooves. I could’ve retired years ago, you see, but I’ve been putting it off. I tried telling myself it was for the sake of ensuring the greenwings would have all the skills needed for cloud management and tracking; but these days the youngsters are so adept that I’m having trouble keeping up with them! Ahah… It’s a bit melancholic, but I suppose it’s no different than what everypony else goes through at this age.”
With good conversation, you find that your initial offer of Ponyville sightseeing had taken a back seat to Gentle Breeze’s explanations, not that you minded at all. A bench overlooking the fields where foals played made for a much better place to chat.
“Ah, a born-workaholic. Couldn’t be me. Is it the love of the job that keeps you around?”
Breeze shakes his head. ”No, well, yes– but there’s more to it than that. So much of it is in the camaraderie: The likeminds with the same passion and goal as yourself, right? I love my family to pieces, and my Posey has her favorite clouds that she’ll go gaga over– but I’d bore her to death if I ever tried discussing the nuance of wind patterns and the dominoes the Weather Team needs to set in place to ensure a specific cloud formation needs to get from it’s starting placement to it’s objective finish for busting.” He laughs to himself, pantomiming a sweaty brow in his delightfully reserved manner. ”Celestia knows Zephyr wouldn’t hear of it either– he’s my colt, you see. The only pony who could at least stomach my ramblings is Fluttershy, and that’s just because she’s so darn passionate herself. If you think I’m driven, hooh, you should see that filly during the bunny census.”
Fluttershy?
That personal little buzzword of yours nearly made you zone out from the conversation entirely.
...
Shock assumedly very much evident on your face, if Breeze’s now-concerned look was any indication, the pieces click into place.
There was no way.
You have such an… odd relationship with Fluttershy, the idea of her having a brother -let alone parents- somehow hit you harder than such a mundane, obvious truth should have.
And here was her father: The stallion that raised her. A guy you could’ve passed by on the street without even so much as a second cursory glance of vague-recognition.
Huh.
Even still, you have to ask the question. “You’re Fluttershy’s dad?”
A few moments pass, before Gentle Breeze bursts out laughing. It doesn’t take him long to gather himself, but you had the feeling he didn’t laugh like that very often. ”Ah, ehaha– I-I’m sorry, but that was quite the reaction. I had a hunch that you might be the stalli- human Fluttershy is always writing to us about, but she never sent pictures. After you introduced yourself, it was confirmed.” Wiping his eye, Gentle Breeze continued. ”I hope my daughter’s passion hasn’t been too hard on you. You’d never think it, if you only saw how she acted from a distance, but that mare is so much locked up in just one pony.”
“I-I’ll say.”
Breeze bounces a hoof about in the air, apologizing retroactively for all his daughter’s trouble. ”Seems she’s had her eye on you for quite some time, but the feeling isn’t mutual.”
Fuck, just what has Flutters been telling her parents?
You’d assume (and maybe hope) that she left out a lot of her more questionable schemes.
“It… isn’t.”
Hell, you did NOT expect to be telling your stalker’s father that you weren’t into his daughter today– at the park of all places. Thankfully, the admittance doesn’t yield an immediate fist fight or something in front of the nearby foals. Instead Breeze nods sagely, his tone never wavering from it’s prior gentleness.
”Mhm. I know Fluttershy can certainly live up to her name, but even she wouldn’t wait two years simply watching a crush from afar. I won’t ask why; your feelings are your own and I’m sure this is awkward enough for you as it is– I will at the very least say that mare is, well, inexperienced when it comes to love.”
That’s one way to call your daughter a virgin…
”Yet, I’ve only ever known one other pony who had been so accustomed to such a woefully unprepared-for fight, and still fought everyday regardless. I’m sorry if it’s troubled you, Anon, but that mare got her passion from me–”
”And she got her bravery from her mother.”
Author's Note
Anon's little sidequest of sorts! After I'd first finished this story, my first thought was that maybe Anon should've been on a journey similar to Fluttershy's, if for perhaps different reasons. Maybe he just so happened to be running into the Mane Six's parents by accident, always just missing Fluttershy as she herself hopped around Equestria. It would've given me the chance to bolster up Anon as a character, and perhaps give more insight into why he's been turning Shy down all this time (I won't spoil, but there IS a reason, at least) as well as perhaps let it slowly dawn on Anon the extents Shy's willing to go for him & perhaps some of her own feelings told to him through a pony without the baggage of having bothered him daily for the past year.
Of course, this epiphany didn't come to me quick enough, and (shocker)– I hate doing rewrites. While I like the above idea, I'll say too that it presents its own host of challenges in the realm of continuity, so even if I was dead-set on making those revisions, the story itself would've probably needed an entire rewrite or two rather than just the inclusion of new Anon-focused chapters. Who knows– maybe I'll be really bored one day and start from the ground up. I wouldn't hope on it though.
Again, the flight up to Cloudsdale is no easier than usual, your present-lingering rush from Grannysmith be damned. But with every wing flap your destination nears, and no sudden encounters bowl into you this time, keeping you locked immobile on your upward climb. No, this ascent is more akin to simply walking up a bothersome, tall set of stairs. If there was any proof thus far to imply that you’d gained something from all your traveling, surely it was this.
And just like that, a realization strikes you.
Not just one, but two.
They slow your trot to a stop.
For one, you had long since completed the flight up to Cloudsdale– in fact you were staring at your childhood home.
You’d not even realized.
The other, something you’d been told since you went to Canterlot, but only now are seemingly understanding:
Who is this Fluttershy?
Who is this Fluttershy that, on a whim, takes off divebombing from Cloudsdale on a warpath toward Canterlot?
You didn’t know this Fluttershy –at least, you thought you didn’t– but her appearance brought with it fear; as so many things did for you.
Was she the same Fluttershy who shouted down a dragon after it attacked her friends?
Was she the same Fluttershy who snuck past a power-drunk Trixie to strategize Twilight’s return to Ponyville?
These actions don’t feel like your own; but if not– then whose are they?
Tentatively do your hooves carry you to your parent’s door, and tentatively do they knock.
“... I hear you, Gentle Breeze, but it’s a little deeper than me just not being into her.”
”That’s okay. Of course, I’m biased, but I understand your circumstances are certainly different from most.”
You’d been speaking to Breeze for quite some time now, sharing this bench. Shock had long since turned to denial, and denial was being overtaken by contemplation. Even disregarding Breeze’s words, the fact that he existed at all, and was so not just normal, but outright enjoyable to be around…
Maybe you had only ever seen Fluttershy in a certain lens.
Of course, not just from your own well-built perception, but from the established modes of communication as well. There was always a question presented to you in the morning, one you’d answer in the negative to. That’d more or less be it for the day. Was that really giving her a chance anymore? Or were you just rubbing it in? That was never your intention, and it’s not your fault she keeps on showing up–
But there isn’t much Fluttershy can do otherwise.
Sure, she could take the hint and move on, but you know better that she doesn’t operate that way; she never has. What if you did give her the chance? Just a date, to gauge herself if she really even likes you, or if this obsession of hers has simply spiraled out of control after so much stagnation. If the formula never changed, there’d be no reason to assume she’d somehow gain new insight to see that her love was only ever a simple crush to begin with. Whether it was his intention or not, Gentle Breeze might’ve just thrown his daughter an assist.
Fuck.
”Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to turn our chat onto such a subject. I hope that wasn’t, eh, too painful to get through.”
You lean back against your seat, gaze fixed on the distant treeline of Whitetail Woods, though focusing on nothing in particular. “Less so than you might think, Gentle Breeze.”
”Please, just Breeze works.”
The two of you sit in relative silence for a few more minutes, before the stallion begins to rise from his spot beside you.
”I appreciate the chance to talk, Anonymous. It’s nice to finally put a name to the face.”
“Back to Cloudsdale?”
”Mhm, to the Weather Factory. I’d already taken a long lunch to come down here; it’d be irresponsible if I were absent any longer.”
“What was cause for the visit anyway? Need more pegasi kickin’ clouds?”
Breeze laughs, now hovering at face level with you. ”No, not quite,” he begins, rummaging through his cardigan pocket. ”I’d actually been looking for Fluttershy. Just to check in, you know? Her cottage was empty though, and I know she’s not one to sleep in, so I’d just been walking the streets rather aimlessly, heh…”
Before the stallion made his gentle ascent upwards, he gave you one last request. ”If you see her, ask if she could stop by the house sometime, yeah? Posey can get quite stir-crazy when the kids are gone for too long.”
A subtle pain pangs your heart.
“I can imagine. I’ll let her know.”
With a nod and chaste “thank you,” the pegasus turns skyward, steadily picking up speed toward that great cloudborne machine.
It was good things ended there, cause you wanted some time to think. Where else better than among the relative quiet of the park, keeping company for your lonesome bench? Your introspection wasn’t exactly linear, but it so seldom was anyhow, and you were in no rush.
So that was Fluttershy’s dad, huh.
Spurred on by his parting words, you try to remember your own father; perhaps just because it seemed like a good opportunity to dig those thoughts up. Two years is a long time to disappear without a trace. The thoughts briefly drift to your own mother, and those words about being gone too long. You force your thoughts elsewhere, because that’s not something you wish to consider.
How much longer did you have in this new land, before you were sent somewhere else once more?
Your mother is quick to answer the door, and her familiar face alight with joy threatens to tear up your heart. ”Fluttershy! Sweetheart, I-I had no idea you were in town! Everything’s alright, I hope?” Before a reply can form, your mother takes you into an embrace, her neck meeting yours in, by your mother’s standards, an incredibly forward hug. You melt into it, the heavy thoughts accumulated from your journey now weighing on you more than ever.
Or perhaps, the mental exhaustion finally catching up with you.
So the words don’t come out, not yet at least. No, it’s plainly obvious that now is a time for respite.
“... Oh, mother–”
You can hardly even begin, before pressing your weight against Posey, a tiresome sigh taking with it all the free air your lungs could offer. Mother doesn’t press further with questions; intuition and such. Helped that you weren’t exactly subtle. And so you elect to gently wobble against your rock, the mare you’ve known longer than any other. A so-close friend of yours, somepony whose love simply cannot be attempted to even explain, as no number of words strung along in their infinite potential patterns could scratch even the surface of comprehension in defining the relationship you so thankfully manage to share. Given so freely to you, and so often not even reciprocated in return, and always failing to equal when attempted.
Not that she’d ever fault you for it.
Such was the boundless love a mother gave to her only daughter, and such was the quality of care you hoped to one day emulate unto your own. Perhaps, that was the only true way to return the favor of unreciprocated, unearned love.
But you’re hardly thinking on any of this.
No, your thoughts are too heavy and too coiled in emotion, and you can process them no longer without recharge. Instead you’re probably crying mutedly, as your stalwart mother cups your neck with her own, ready to wait as long as needed for her love to recoup her senses as she dissociates on her fillyhood home’s front porch.
That’s alright. It was nothing new.
Some time would pass, exact numbers unimportant, before your mother would offer further relief.
”Would you like to come inside? I have water for you.”
”You’re so thin, Fluttershy. Has something been keeping you from eating?”
Cool, collected rain water from the Weather Factory’s runoff is balm to your throat, and probably fodder for oh-so experienced tear ducts. You need multiple refills, taken in greedy gulps each time, before you can manage a reply. Finally a healthy medium returns in the sharp inhalations of high elevation air, and your mother receives the beginnings of closure.
“Anon,”
”Ah…”
“I-I went, ah, looking for advice.”
Sat by your side on the living room couch, Posey makes no attempt to interject. While the other families may have been curious to question, mother knew you better. Nostalgia lines every possible nook and cranny of this well-lived room. Picture after memento after heirloom of objects, most of which their original sentimental value unknown to you– but the formative years you saw them in passing everyday made familiar value in yourself; and those were feelings uniquely your own. Your eyes scan them all, from those that line the mantle of the fireplace, to the paintings and medals pinned on the wallpaper; yet you have trouble focusing on any of it.
“I thought if I could talk to married, happy ponies: I could learn how to become one myself.”
“I needed to travel, more so than I ever had on my own, and I think…”
“I think all I’ve gathered are more questions, none of them having answers.”
“I don’t feel wiser, and I don’t feel anymore prepared to face Anon again; quite the opposite.”
More yearns to spill out from your lips, but home has brought with it a wellspring of emotions pressing inward. Infantile and unable to muster up the courage any longer, your eyes can only stand to meet your mother’s, as tears stream lines down your cheeks. There’s nothing aside from Posey’s hoof atop your own, to keep you from regressing into a whimpering foal.
Of course, it’s not enough.
But in here, it was okay.
You felt no shame in sobbing before mother.
Perhaps days before, you would have.
”Oh, Fluttershy–” Posey’s own words waver, her eyes now too bubbling. ”H-having questions isn’t wrong. Answering none, a-and finding more isn’t either. Conceptualizing further questions is wisdom! Things you didn’t even know you need to worry about! You have to discover them first to even begin trying to find the answer. E-everything you do is progress; progress to become a better, stronger mare.”
Though she weeps alongside you, and though another hoof must cover her mouth in politeness as a sob chokes her; she wears her smile proudly.
”Everything you’ve done, e-everything you’ll do after, is of your own volition. Your own drive.”
Shockingly, Posey throws her hooves up in the air. ”Traveling Equestria! To visit the Pies, I’d assume! You, sweetheart! You did that!”
”Aren’t you proud?”
Your lips purse, words clattering into one another in your mind, making a real mess of the place.
”You are a hero! An inspiration! I-I, ah,”
Posey dabs away some of her tears as she laughs– a losing battle. ”I couldn’t have asked for a stronger daughter, somepony who has saved us all in so many ways countless times.”
”Those voices inside that put you down must persist only because your heart’s too kind to, heh, s-shut them up. I’m certain no other mare would be capable of handling them as elegantly as you do.”
”I am so proud of you, Fluttershy. And I know, just as I know that you know yourself, that anything you desire IS yours. You don’t need mine or anypony else’s help to conquer your fears–”
“B-but I do!!”
“I’ve NEVER been able to do ANYTHING on my own!”
“ ALWAYS I’ve been dragged along with my fear by stronger ponies– ALWAYS to the detriment of everypony else!”
“A-A BURDEN!”
”D-don’t you DARE call yourself that.”
Pinpricks.
Ice surely has frozen in your coat, biting past your skin somewhere deeper. Hairs stand on edge along your neck, goosebumps coating your body. Places you weren’t aware existed, sensations you weren’t sure how to comprehend. An inferno blazes in mother’s smoldering eyes, unbecoming of the tears still pumping from them. Perhaps they were steaming hot, looking to flee from that alien heat burning just behind mother’s glare. How such fire could exist, thrust forward somehow and capable of singeing with just a look, and how it could chill even the saliva on your teeth–
You did not know.
You’d think twice about ever getting mad enough to use your own Stare again, if it was anything like mother’s.
That look continues as mother shifts on the couch, closing the gap in between even more. Only does it relent when she’s grasped both of your forehooves. A deep, deep sadness takes it’s place; the kind that comes far down enough where words begin to fail. Bodies were always the better speaker, anyway.
”F-Fluttershy. You are not a burden to anypony.”
”You are beautiful, living proof of the unrelenting joy life can offer those willing to accept it.”
”You are a miracle.”
”I don’t know what happened between you and Anon, or what fears have rooted so deeply in your mind that you’ve been blinded to the bravery you present in the face of whatever may bring danger to us ponyfolk or your friends, but I hardly need to–”
”Because I know you. I know the feeling of self-imposed inadequacy, and the false-comfort feeding into those dark thoughts can bring.”
”I know how it feels to push anyway, despite those fears never truly leaving. They’re strongest just before you act against them, and even more so during, as they drill into your heart in mind as punishment for disobeying.”
”I know you’ve felt that pain many times, clawing up your soul every second as you acted to save your friends in spite of the terror, or the belief that you’d just committed yourself to death, or humiliation, or anything.”
”I know, because I had been there too. And everytime, everytime: I came out on top. And so have you.”
The next few hours were raw, to say the least. With so much usually-hidden emotion cast before another, perhaps the one you’d least want to be made aware of its existence, it came with the territory.
But, it was constructive.
Clearly, you didn’t need any more crying. You’d done enough crying. You’d needed a release of frustrations, a proper display of the anger you’d so constantly pelt yourself with. Once all was said and done, you could finally move on. Father had come home at one point, as the sun was beginning to set, but he was wise enough to give you and mother space for the time being. Far be it from him to intrude on conversations, after all. Instead, he got to work quietly preparing dinner in the other room, hoping that he could time it’s completion just right so as to ask if you’d stay to eat; and of course you would.
That stallion could never let his hooves be idle.
You and mother had long since gotten comfy in the living room, your head resting in her lap as she gently ran her hooves through your mane. The conversation had evolved beyond self-hatred, and thankfully, onto the actual purpose for your visit.
”... You think Anon just isn’t interested in ponies outside of his species?”
You sigh, eyelids feeling heavy. You REALLY didn’t want to believe that was the case; even if he always said it was. “People, mother… A-and… Mmh... I really hope not. It’s just- just so sad if he truly does feel that way. He just… appeared in Equestria one day. I had hoped that time would show him that he’d need to open up to others, but… I guess enough time hasn’t passed yet.”
“He’s just so, so… stubborn.”
Part of you wants to growl, thinking about how easy everything could’ve been if Anon just gave ponies a chance.
... You might not have helped the case for ponykind at large with some of your more questionable actions, but…
”Have you ever thought about toning your desires back, and trying to approach initially as just a friend? Maybe with enough time, he could come to view you as somepony to trust and confide in. From there: Who knows where it’d lead?”
Your eyes flutter shut. “I don’t know if I’m patient enough for that, mother.”
”You’re one of the most patient ponies I know, dear. Who else would still be giving a stallion chances after so many refusals?”
That makes you quietly grumble, but father’s voice from the kitchen surprises you. ”I can think of one!”
Mother laughs to herself. ”Gentle Breeze…”
You turn your body, looking up at your mother from your reclined spot in astonishment. “R-really…? Y-you and father?”
Breeze gently laughs in the room over as Posey turns pink. ”Like I said, sweetheart, I know your position all too well.”
”I’m proof there’s light at the end of the tunnel, too.”
Finding now to be a good time, father trots into the room, getting cozy on the couch by your hindhooves. ”When I first met your mother, gosh, I couldn’t stand her!”
Posey nods, her eyes drifting back to some point from long ago; a small smile lingering on her lips. ”Your father was so caught up in climbing the ranks at the Weather Factory that, well, he figured he just didn’t have time for some googly-eyed filly more concerned with flowers than anything up in the clouds.”
”I used to try working overtime in the Factory, because I knew Posey would be waiting by the entrance: Picnic basket in one hoof, and those old “sexy librarian” glasses in the othe-”
Posey clears her throat abruptly. ”N-now now darling, we don’t need to tell Fluttershy ‘everything.’ “
”Oh? What should we tell her then? Perhaps the time I caught you planting horny goat weed in pots outside my old home?”
Ready to turn the teasing around, mother is quick to fire back. ”Well, it was quite effective, no? I mean, we have two kids now and all~”
You dreadfully don’t need to hear this.
Father seems to be in the same boat as you, rubbing the back of his neck. ”A-ah, well…”
“U-um, mother? Father? P-please don’t tell me about how I was conceived.”
”E-eheh... Point is, dear, your father was as stubborn as could be: Thinking that his job came before settling down. You can have your cake and eat it too, with a supportive wife cheering you on.”
Gentle Breeze capitulates, nodding his head. ”Very, very true, love.”
”You know, it must be fate you decided to visit home today: I was actually down in Ponyville looking for you earlier.”
You peek your head up. “R-really? I was there-”
Talking to Granny Smith.
“W-well… I was in the area. Where were you?”
”I checked by your cottage first. No luck, and since I don’t know Ponyville all that well; I’d just taken to wandering the streets. Good excuse to trying and get familiar with the world below, can’t coop myself up in the Factory for much longer. But! I did spot somepony tall, somepony who’d been apparently looking for you.”
You’re all ears now.
You shift, curling yourself into a more proper seating position on the couch. “A-Anon was looking for me? Why?”
”Not sure. I’d heard your name on the wind, figured it would lead me to you: But I saw him talking to Pinkie Pie before she zipped off. I’m only guessing he couldn’t find you either. Anyway, we’d gotten to talking. Nice fellow!” Father’s smile quickly turns bashful, fiddling his hooves together. ”... I, uh, tried to be subtle, but I think I managed to put in a good word for you. He seemed pretty shocked to meet me. It’ll make you bringing him over for the first time less nerve-wracking on his end though, right?”
... Sweet Celestia what did father say to Anon.
You try to mask your rapidly-escalating heart rate. “T-the talk went well, then?”
”Oh, yes! Much of it was spent on, uh, clouds admittedly, heh…”
This was embarrassing on a whole new level.
Father had managed to… to dudebro-it-up with Anon.
Part of you wanted to duck your head in the couch pillows, but admittedly? This embarrassment felt nice, in a way. Like, how other ponies must feel embarrassment: Playful and (hopefully) harmless. Odd as it was to say, you much preferred this over some of your other feelings these past few days.
“G-gah… I don’t know what to say…”
”I promise it went well! Maybe your father even lined up a date for you, hm~?”
It was a miracle Zephyr hadn’t decided to visit the family today; you’d never hear an end to the teasing. Though, the idea of Anon meeting your family proper had butterflies flipping your tummy…
”Breezie, you’re torturing the poor mare~”
You were SO not used to your parents in this manner.
”But to get back on topic, Fluttershy, don’t you think this is a good development? I’m not saying that going the friend-route is the right choice, but it’s a worthwhile option to consider.”
“I just don’t know if I could handle it. I always seem to… make a fool of myself if I’m around Anon for too long. Some feelings just takeover, and I’m certain that whatever display I spontaneously put on will end up working. It never does.”
”Maybe a new approach is in order? From what you’ve written to us, I’d say the straight-forward approach just won’t work on Anon: He’s used to it by now, and will shoot it down the moment he realizes.”
”I think you’re right in that he can’t last alone forever, but if you continue down the path you’ve been, he might still not want to seek you in particular out.” Posey’s hoof finds it’s way under your downcast chin, turning it to her face.The warm, loving face of your mother greets you. ”If anypony can get through to him, it’s you, sweetheart.”
“... Thank you, mother.”
You take your mother into another hug, though unlike earlier, there’s no more weary anguish to spill onto her. No, now there’s only mutual love, and hope for what the future will bring.
Father clears his throat.
”You know, I haven’t gotten a hug from my daughter yet…”
Author's Note
Well, we're in the homestretch now! I hope you've been enjoying thus far! I thought I'd have more to say on this story throughout posting– but maybe it'll all come to me at the end of things. Part of me has wanted to keep quiet on a lot of my thoughts looking back on this story out of risk for spoilers.
I can touch on it more after the finale chapter, but going back to the time I was first writing the Twilight Velvet chapter– this story had taken on a very melodramatic angle that I wasn't accounting for. When I'd first gotten the idea for a story like this, my goal was to keep things quite comedic: Each pair of parents having a specific fetish they'd used to get their partner & encouraging Shy to try that out on Anon. Of course, that concept kinda slipped by the wayside in lieu of Flutters' introspection and everyone giving Shy peptalks to restore her confidence. I don't hate what the story turned into, but I always fear I treaded the edge of Shy doubting herself too much. Perhaps it's 'in-character' to some extent, but that aspect of Fluttershy tends to be the part most people find problems with in the show itself– myself included to some extent. There's certainly a right way to do it, and plenty of wrong ways. My own self-confidence can't decide which side my portrayal of Flutters falls on– but maybe that's part of why I like her so much.
The 'Solo' Concept, Revised
Though the sun was nearly set, it was decided by all parties during dinner that staying the night in Cloudsdale wouldn’t be right. You could always visit again, and it’d be irresponsible to be away from the cottage any longer. The critters didn’t rely on you to be fed, but it’d become so habitual that skipping days felt wrong. Angel is probably worried sick too…
And… well…
You wanted to swing by Anon’s house.
Much of dinner had been spent strategizing and spitballing ideas with your parents. Things that worked for them, things that might work for you, and so on. You still weren’t quite sure where you stood in confronting Anon once more, or if you’d be able to actually execute when you needed to, but… Once again, you find yourself staring down at the Equestrian landscape, a dimly lit Ponyville far below. A few days ago, you stood in a similar position, ready to tackle the journey that lie ahead. Many times you faltered, and many times you regretted it.
And here you were now.
... It was worth a shot.
No extravagant claims were needed now, no affirmations of future success. Whatever came next would come. It was up to you to make it all work in your favor. You walk over the edge of Cloudsdale, letting gravity take over as you outstretch your wings, aiming for a smooth descent just outside your cottage. If you timed it all right: You could land right in front of your door.
So, where are you now, Fluttershy?
Did you learn anything from these past few days?
That oh-so-loyal self-doubt stood by your side, telling you no. Maybe it was right, to an extent. But you knew that, even if there was truth behind its dour lingering, it couldn't speak to the entirety of your experience. It was quite late now, standing off at a distance before Anon's home. Distant lights of Ponyville sway in the moon breeze like little earthbound stars, jingling much closer to home than the painted night above. Like you, Anon didn't care much to plant himself around ponies. So the distant aura of life was somewhat muted in its attempt to cast itself so far-flung into the darkness, and the gentle lamps scattered on Anon's porch only assisted the night in rousing those instinctual, foalish fears of darkness. It made for a foreboding mood, though it really shouldn't.
Would you truly feel so crushed if he refused you again? A denial ought to be expected more than anything else: That's the status quo after all. You have no grand trick up your sleeve, no edge to tip the scales.
No, you just have yourself.
And surely that's enough to get whatever it is you want out of this confrontation. Still, you stand at a comfortable length from his door as weary eyes await some cue to formally approach.
...
Though, you suppose you've never really been one to await such things. You were simply tired, and some part of you said that this would be the only way to bring about some degree of finality to this "quest" of yours. So, with little further fanfare, your hooves press forward through the small grasses, eventually finding their way onto Anon's porch.
"Fluttershy?"
But, you never get the opportunity to knock.
A part of you dreadfully hoped Anon hadn't seen you staring at his front door for Celestia-knows how long. Of course, standing atop his porch, looking back at him probably didn't start you off too well either. Oh well.
Anon slowly begins closing the gap between you, the distance traveled shortening with each step before stopping outright. Close enough to see him clearly in the moonlight– but impossible to embrace. Seeing his face once more, words begin welling up in your throat from somewhere you couldn't pinpoint. But they come and they come, and that building flood pushes on the linguals of your teeth. Anon's lips tremble with the beginnings of speech again, but you don't allow it.
"I…"
"I'm sorry."
"I've been… W-well, to tell the truth, I don't know what I've been to you. It's not something I'd call a friend. Nor a lover– even unrequited. M-my intent be damned if I was trying to be somepony that pined for you, as I was obviously so often far from the mark, to the extent that your rejections seemed more akin to telling me something I wished to hear: Something like an affirmation that I was indeed attempting to be a suitor, though failing."
"Maybe that wasn't your intention, but I see now that it must've been the case: Because I failed to even be a rejected suitor. I don't know what I've been."
"Some parody of a pony, like a foal playing adult: Like I could present you a desire that'd make you see the things I felt for you, or more morbidly, excite some perversion in you– so I could at least pretend there was a shared love between us if you decided to use me."
"... It's disgusting to admit that. It's humiliating. It's only you and I out here, and hearing that come out of me makes me want to flush my mouth with soap… But my past actions reflect that it's true. And none of it was right."
"I don't know what I'm doing, Anon. I've never known what it is I'm doing regarding you. That doesn't excuse any of it– any of the frustration I've put you through, but–"
"I love you, if I may be blunt. I know this doesn't help my case at all, but I can't help but let it be known, and I've been talking to ponies."
"I've been talking, and at first I thought it'd lead me to some realization: Like… Like I could find out why I love you, or how I could get you to love me back. I found neither."
"I just know that I love you, and I don't think that condition will ever really change. If you were to leave Ponyville tomorrow and never return, I don't think I'd ever lose that feeling. I can't return to the pony I used to be. Who am I now –who I was when you were here– would not let go of the person I could never have. Nothing changes on my end in that hypothetical: You're equally as unreachable as you were before, and my fantasies would surely just continue spiraling as they do now."
"I… don't really have any intent here. I guess this is just an admittance of fact– or a squeal of pain. I just wanted to say I'm sorry."
Unceremoniously, your apology dies there.
All you can do is hold Anon's gaze through bagged eyes. As you should've expected, his face had twisted from a look of confusion to concern early on in your speech. Now you don't even know what emotion has set in across his face. Maybe the same as whatever it is you're feeling. You don't know what you should've done, but it certainly wasn't this. There's nowhere to go from here, really. If it's any consultation, you managed to speak your piece.
Anon stares.
Well.
"... Goodnight, Anon."
You trod down Anon's porch steps, your only goal now being to hopefully snuff out the empty static in your head with the warmth of an actual bed. You don't know.
But you don't get very far down the steps.
"Why?"
You peer up once again, midstep.
"Why do you love me?"
"I mean, I don't see the appeal, and after so long… I just… I don't get it. I don't get you."
The chance to define your love sends a host of tiny shudders down your spine. You'd need to be careful not to over-excite yourself here. If you could even put such feelings into words. Finding an impromptu seat on Anon's steps, you collect yourself with Luna's cool night air.
"... S-sorry in advance if I get off topic:"
Anon mentally prepares himself with a "hoo…" as he sits beside you, looking out into the dark fields beyond. You keep your eyes straight ahead too, though allow inconsistent bobs of your head downward to find the strength to pour out your words.
"... There was a time when I thought this would be it. I don't mind simple living, Anon. I think that much is obvious. That was okay for me. I had my animals, my cottage. Myself. My friends routinely visit; keep me grounded to the world out there. It was all I ever needed."
"Then you came and, well, you muddled all that up."
"It must've been a crush at first, surely, but I'd never experienced that. I was already… not very social, so it hit me harder than I'm sure it hits most ponies– and I had no idea what to do with it."
"So I fed that fire, and, well…"
"It got me off on a bad path, but I suppose your resilience in the face of my antics helps illuminate my point:"
Though his face is still turned out to the distant darkness, yours turns up toward his profile; as if you could make out his feelings from this position.
"I don't think anypony else in Equestria has a relationship like ours. It certainly hasn't been romantic, but even still. I don't think I could find anypony else that'd make me act so… fevered– and certainly not find one willing to put up with it as you have."
"Something about that is… fitting, I think. We're alike in a lot of ways, you know. You and I both have our troubles meshing with the ponies around us. I'd never met somepony like that before. Maybe you're like Discord, and you just don't want to mingle… But you're mortal, just like me. And we have needs, so I don't think that's the case."
"Maybe I'm just imparting my own loneliness and desires onto you, hoping you see things the same way I do. I'm sorry."
Distant fireflies offer the only visible movement to your eyes now, waiting for something more. Were the mood not so melancholic, the darkness -paired with Anon's deep amber porch light- might carry with it a comfortable atmosphere. This whole scene just feels tired though. Celestia knows you are, at least.
”I…”
"I am lonely."
"I'm lonely, and I'm scared."
Try as you might, Anon's face stays pointed out to the night, and you can't make out his feelings. "It's not something I bring up… Well, ever, because even thinking about it scares me. As if recognizing the insanity of me even being here will surely doom me to… Poof away somewhere else, with no choice but to start over again."
"All I have are memories now, without even proof that any of them were– are real. So, the thought of making more?"
"I'm not strong enough to want to risk it."
Either Anon caught you staring, or he wanted his next words to have more impact. Regardless, his face turns downwards to meet yours.
It's a welcomed sight.
"I don't hate you, Fluttershy. I never did. I don't dislike you, even. I got over the… Mental hurdle of hypothetically dating a pony pretty quick. Not sure what that says about me, but… That's not the point."
"Say I accepted your advances, and we began to date. Say it all went well. Say, twenty years from that point, we were married and as happy as could be."
"Then say I vanished again. Happened once, right? That kind of thing doesn't happen to anyone ever. For it to happen at all must mean it's to be a pattern in my life, no?"
"I vanish without even a goodbye. No fanfare. No warning. Our bed has only one occupant in it come morning."
Anon is quiet for a moment.
Maybe he's allowing you the opportunity to for once share in a mutual fantasy of your love, though this fantasy of course has a dark ending. The implied macabre rug pull makes living in that moment hard, as you cannot help but focus on Anon's hypothetical disappearance as well.
"I'm not the only one who is affected by this. I'm gone, sure, but I'm gone for my loved ones as well, and there is no closure."
Now able to study his face so closely, it's easy to spot Anon's eyes flee from your own as he speaks those final words, and it's faint, but you're certain you hear his voice waver.
"I don't want to put anyone else through what I've put my family through, my friends."
How dare he.
"H-how can you say that."
Anon's somber monotone gains a tinge of confusion at how offended you sound.
"How can you blame yourself!?"
Though clearly taken aback, Anon does not yet raise his voice to match your own. "Who else is there to blame? I could shake my fist at God, but it wouldn't do me any good. I tried. Seems like I wasn't supposed to be on Earth, and I'm definitely out of place here. Can't blame you ponies, so I'm the only constant that remains."
You plant your hooves on Anon's chest, not to strike, but he must be actively pushing back against your weight to stay upright. This human is in desperate need of a tongue-lashing.
"A-and what good does that do you!? L-living every day as though... A-as though you'll poof away!"
Anon must not have been expecting this reaction, as his own volume now slowly begins to climb. "It's a reminder, Fluttershy. You're right. I-I do want a future, I do want a family, and experiences, a-and life! But that's not how this works!"
"Y-you don't know that!"
"Maybe not, but I've seen how it's worked thus far! Why wouldn't it happen again!?"
"I-I don't know! But that's life in general! Anypony could- could die for any reason at any time! It's no excuse to deny yourself experiencing life out of fearing change!" From your new vantage point, your head looms over his, and both of you are too stubborn to back down from this aggressive staring contest.
"It's not the same because I'm not dead! I'm alive! A-alive, and helpless in preserving myself! This isn't my afterlife, Fluttershy! I-I'm still here, and all I have left are memories!"
Sweet Celestia, and here you thought he just didn't like ponies.
The past few days of sulking might be to your benefit now at least, as you can feel your lingering lethargy swirling inside you, now powerless in an inner maelstrom as it's rechanneled into righteous fury. Hot tears stream from your face as you press your hooves back into Anon harder. "T-then you're not living at all now! Even if you were to disappear only months from now, y-you should be... g-gorging yourself on life! Making friends! Seeing Equestria! I-if we were to be together, and you were to vanish, of course I'd be crestfallen–"
"But I'd still have our memories together, and so would you! Punishing yourself like this is only perpetuating your suffering!"
Whether he can even be swayed from his belief at this point, you seem to collapse his walls after this. With them, Anon collapses too. "Oh, Fluttershy," he sighs breathily, breaking the mutual gaze. Anon stops resisting, pulling you down into a hug as his back falls to the wooden porch. This might've been a dream scenario under any other circumstance, but you can't focus on his warmth or scent right now. It's a bit shocking you even have tears left, though these are out of frustration more so than sadness.
You never knew Anon could be so dense.
It's undoubtedly earned, knowing now what he's been going through, but that makes it all no less frustrating in the moment. Clutched to the human's chest, you do what you can to return the favor, offering all the affection possible. Anon's usual calm, even apathetic, exterior is actively crumbling, and even this impromptu embrace might too be a defense mechanism to end needing to explain his mentality.
He's vulnerable now, and you must be careful.
You'd been getting schooled on wisdom from mothers for the past two days. Hopefully you can channel some of that now.
"If you disappeared tomorrow..."
"Would you want this to be our last moment together?"
Your question hangs in the air for some time. No noise, either from the two of you or the world watching around, dares to interrupt the silence it spawns. It probably wasn't too long of a pause, really. But it was enough for your tears to dry and your heart to cease excitement. No matter, you had time. Under a weak amber glow, surrounded by an inky dream of night, your two bodies clung to one another.
As if letting go truly would mean losing the other forever.
Maybe that force that collects and deposits Anon randomly was passing by in that moment. It searched, but it couldn't find him.
Maybe it moved on.
Regardless, Anon would eventually come to break the silence.
"You can be a real pain sometimes, Fluttershy."
...
"But no. I wouldn't want this to be our last moment together."
The little victories.
...
But you've never been one for little victories.
Fluttershy goes big, or she goes home– and if she goes home, you better believe she'll be back to try again tomorrow.
"T-then how about we take this one day at a time, and w-we go on a date tonight?"
Thankfully, Anon is quicker with his response this time. After a few moments, you manage to work a laugh out of Anon for the first time tonight.
"... Jesus, you're bold. This is a hell of a talk to end with asking me out."
With your chin resting on his upper chest, you flash Anon a smile while also not-so-subtly tightening your hug.
"Y-you know me."
"... So, is it a yes?"
Anon chuckles again, the tone sounding much more familiar to you now.
"... Yeah, sure."
Oh my.
You're a fucking alpha mare.
... As you and Anon would come to find out, it was much too late to find a table in just about any restaurant in Ponyville, let alone book a reservation. Of course, you just had to say the date’s tonight of all times. It left little options remaining.
In fact, only one.
”Welcome to Hayburger, home of the hayburger, can I take your– Holy Celestia.”
The cashier, finally pulling her head up from her post, seems to not quite believe her eyes. You can’t say you blame her, what with Anon by your side and the both of you surely looking chipper. Even this teenage filly working the graveyard shift is knocked wide-awake at the implications.
She looks to you, eyes wide and her whisper horribly overt. ”D-did you actually manage to–” the filly checks herself, as though being so blunt might ruin the night. It’s an appreciated gesture regardless, though it puts into perspective a little bit just how well-known your romantic exploits have traveled, if even this young stranger is on your side.
... Maybe less as ‘exploits’ and more as a cautionary tale, but you won’t let that get to you now.
”S-sorry about that, you two: What would you like to order?”
Sheepishly, Anon starts, looking to you for guidance. ”Heh, uh, I don’t think I can really eat anything here.”
Darn, you’re not really one for this kind of food either admittedly.
... You really are bombing this.
A few days ago– Even, a few hours ago that would’ve had your stomach doing flips.
But now?
Maybe you and Anon both are still riding a mutual catharsis, or you’re both exhausted, but you simply don’t mind.
“I’m not all that hungry either. How about we just get some water, is that alright?”
The cashier is eager to oblige. ”Y-yes ma’am, it is! Please, take the booth by the window, I’ll have those waters out in a moment!” The filly nearly breaks a leg scrambling into the kitchen, whisper-shouting to the cooks if they have any candles or mood lighting.
You share a look with Anon.
“... I-it’s kinda nice not being the anxious one for once.”
”Couldn’t you have just written letters?”
“Well… I kinda got caught up in the excitement.”
”Tch, typical.”
Anon’s accompanying snicker is balm to your psyche. With the blanket of night painted flat against the window you sit beside, time feels at a standstill. That feeling too is a sort of balm. It welcomes you to finally ease the stiffness of your withers again and again, as if it were a new experience each time. You come to actively need to stop yourself from airing out breathy sighs. Not even the Spa Twins could bring you such relief. If this was the only reward for your past troubles, and the dream ended eventually…
”Was it worth it, you think?” Anon leans himself over the table as he speaks.
You’d been telling him of your little trip these past few days as the two of you shared a booth in the otherwise empty Hayburger. Whatever time it was now, it didn’t matter. You’re unsure if the staff is staying overtime out of empathy for you, or if they’re just watching from behind the counter to witness the spectacle of you finally making progress. Either way, they should’ve closed at least an hour ago.
“Worth it?”
Of course now the answer is so easy to choose, now that the troubles are just mere hours behind you.
But the Fluttershy on the train to the Rock Country thought otherwise.
As did the Fluttershy resting underneath the Applepear Tree.
And the Fluttershy standing before her own mother’s home.
Would she have answered the question as easily as you can now?
Before your success was confirmed?
...
Well, no.
She wouldn’t have answered it so easily.
But she kept on moving regardless, so that you could have even a chance of being here now. And, of course, she is you.
Your introspection earns the cock of Anon’s head as he awaits your response.
“Hm…”
“If you had still denied me, or chosen to not even listen to my words when we were at your home,”
“Yes. It still would’ve been worth it.”
A shadow of a smile begins to curl up on Anon’s lips.
”And why’s that?”
Your eyes trail off into the nearby expanse of night.
“I thought I wanted to do everything on my own: Win you over all by myself.”
“I thought letting the girls help would take away from my own accomplishment, to the point where even seeking their advice was overstepping the boundary.”
“But really, how’s seeking advice from their parents any different?”
“The last time you rejected me… I felt worse than usual. To the point where I didn’t know what to do next.”
Anon’s face falls ever so slightly at that.
“I don’t think sticking to my old mindset is the important takeaway; but moreso putting that pride aside and going on that journey of penance on my own.”
“It wasn’t something I thought I’d ever be capable of doing without the girls there by my side to… to carry the torch for me. And I doubted myself every step of the way–”
”And yet, here you are.”
Your eyes fall back on Anon, and the smile you wear is infectious.
“H-here I am.”
Anon leans back in his seat across from you, masking his own smile with a hand as he idly swirls his water cup with the other. ”I think you’re already redirecting your passion into healthier avenues.”
It might sound uncharacteristic to anypony looking merely at surface level, but you suppose you’d been carrying an unwarranted amount of pride in you for quite some time. Perhaps, just misguided. Whether the grapplings with your psyche amounted to anything otherwise, you can certainly say now that at least you proved yourself. At least you tried.
...
The afterglow of you revelation is cherished for a brief few moments, before Anon returns you to the moment. His past woes seem as equally distant as yours, though he too confronted them so recently.
”So, does this mean I won’t be seeing you at my door each morning now?”
You giggle.
“B-baby steps, Anon. Baby steps.”
End.
Author's Note
And we're done! As I'd mentioned in the last chapter, I had some pretty discouraging (though insightful) realizations almost immediately after completing this story originally– fixated on including Anon more primarily.
My biggest concern with the story as things stand is that Anon just isn't a character until the very end. It weakens him of course, but it also could weaken Fluttershy too: After all, if she's doing all this for him, and Anon is comparatively just not in the picture, how could Shy's 'quest' be justified? You could perhaps make the argument that Shy needed this personal growth either way, but bah... I don't know. Even now, I think I would've preferred Anon unintentionally going on his own little 'quest' of sorts simultaneously– unknowingly retreading the same steps Shy had already taken, or talking to the same ponies Shy had.
It's easy to say all that, though, and imagine a hypothetical where I can include those ideas and they all just play nice with one another and the story is objectively better in my eyes– it's never so simple, of course. But who knows, rereading this all to reformat things did put the idea back at the forefront of my mind again, so I'll keep toying with the idea when I'm bored.
Regardless, Mother Knows Best is a story that both didn't go the way I'd originally planned, and even when it was done, I had 'what if's ' staining my overall outlook on the whole thing. I don't hate it, though! I hope I haven't been making it sound like I view the entire project as a black sheep or anything. I'm happy it is what it is & that it exists– and I hope you enjoyed reading!
Up next is going to be a far bigger project– the biggest I've ever set out on writing-wise to date. For example: My previous biggest project was Twiastasia, which is about 50k words in total. What's coming is currently 18k, and hardly out of its 'Act 2' of perhaps 5 or 6 at the time of this update. We'll see how that mess goes! Hope you give it a shot, and again, I hope you enjoyed.
