Chapters Chained Hearts - A Love Story
To her friends, Rarity was many things: elegant, creative, generous and, occasionally, a drama queen. From humble roots, she had founded the Carousel Boutique in her hometown of Ponyville and made it the cornerstone of a thriving fashion empire, with branch stores in Manehattan and Canterlot.
Many entrepreneurs, particularly successful ones, let the pressures of running one’s own business make them tight-hooved and stingy. Not Rarity. As fabulous as she was, her greatest joy came from helping others feel good about themselves. This core of empathy had eventually led to her embodying Generosity as an Element of Harmony, and when Twilight Sparkle founded the School of Friendship, Rarity was the natural choice to teach about that Element.
On this spring day, over a year after the School of Friendship’s founding, Rarity was wondering if she had bitten off more than she could chew. It wasn’t the first time such thoughts had crossed her mind…balancing her teaching duties with managing the Carousel Boutique, embarking on friendship quests for the Cutie Map, and making business trips to Manehattan and Canterlot left her with little time for herself.
The lack of downtime was taking its toll. Just the other day, she’d snapped at a student over a minor mistake when they truly didn’t deserve it. Though she’d apologized immediately, the guilt still lingered. Worse, while teaching different creatures at the school brought a wealth of inspiration, exhaustion made it harder and harder to bring her designs to life. Today, she’d barely managed a few rough sketches, and even those felt uninspired. Customers for her finished pieces had been few.
With no pressing tasks at hoof, Rarity busied herself with dusting the counter and glanced at the clock with a weary sigh. She had been so busy lately that she had missed her normal spa day several weeks in a row, a thing that would have been unheard-of just a few years before. After a furious internal debate between her need to recharge and her desire not to disappoint any potential customers, she gave a decisive nod. “There’s only one remedy for the overburdened fashionista,” she declared, dramatic as any actress onstage, “and that remedy is pampering! After all, proper self-care is the pattern on which good customer service is sewn.” Leaving a “Closed for Spa Emergency” sign posted on the boutique door, the elegant, purple-maned unicorn started down the road.
As Rarity trotted through the familiar streets, she looked around, shaking her head wistfully. Ponyville had changed so much in just a few short years. Though none of them knew it at the time, Twilight Sparkle’s arrival had turned the town into a hub of adventure, and the founding of the School of Friendship had completed its transformation into a thriving tourist destination, a process that started with Twilight’s ascension from unicorn scholar to alicorn princess. The extra bits flowing in brought new businesses, particularly franchises funded by Filthy Rich, and those job opportunities attracted a wave of new residents.
The growing population brought challenges as well, such as attracting con artists like the Flim-Flam Brothers. Despite their successful Las Pegasus casino, the duo had recently attempted yet another scam in Ponyville, only to be thwarted by Rarity and her friends. Still, for every major fraud they stopped, Rarity knew several smaller schemes slipped through unnoticed. Ponyville was no longer the bucolic little village Rarity had grown up in; it was evolving into a bustling town, perhaps even a small city.
A few blocks from the Ponyville Day Spa (not the only spa in town anymore, but still the best in Rarity’s opinion), Rarity’s attention was caught by an unfamiliar unicorn stallion standing on a street corner. His silvery-gray coat and metallic-blue mane, tail, and eyes formed an attractive contrast to her discerning eye, yet he looked down on his luck—unhealthily thin, with a shadow of stubble on his jaw and a shaggy, unkempt appearance. His cutie mark depicted five interlocking rings in a precise, intricate grid, four rings passing through a fifth in the center, and a battered set of saddlebags hung from his back, completing the picture of a pony in hard times.
Rarity sighed inwardly. That was another thing Ponyville never used to have—beggars. She reached into her saddlebag for a bit to offer the poor stallion. Before she could, though, his eye caught hers and his horn lit up, a few items floating out of his saddlebags in a metallic-silver cloud of telekinetic magic. “Hornmade jewelry for a lovely mare?” he offered with a shy, hopeful smile. “Only thirty bits.” His voice, a rough-edged baritone, carried the weariness of too many sleepless nights, or perhaps a long day of speaking.
Rarity had encountered many street vendors before during her trips to Manehattan and Canterlot, but this unassuming stallion’s offer caught her off guard. The chain necklace, bracelet, and earrings gleamed with a high polish, their intricate, lacy weave exuding an exotic charm. Her practiced eye noted that the pieces were crafted from plain steel rather than precious metals, yet the quality of the work was undeniable. In her boutique, such craftsmanship could fetch far more than the modest price he’d named. “My dear stallion,” she said, tearing her gaze from the jewelry to meet his, “are you quite sure?”
The stallion blushed, his gaze dropping meekly as if eye contact made him uncomfortable. “Um… twenty-five?” he mumbled, his tone hesitant, clearly used to having his price haggled down.
Rarity shook her head quickly, raising a hoof to gently stop him. “No, no, no, that’s not what I meant, darling,” she said with a reassuring smile. “Quite the opposite, in fact—your craftsponyship is divine. Surely you should charge more?”
The stallion blinked, his blush deepening as he hesitantly met Rarity’s gaze before looking away again. He rubbed the back of his neck with a hoof, his voice barely above a murmur. “I’m just trying to give everypony a fair price…”
Rarity sighed softly, recognizing a familiar story. She’d seen it before, especially in the world of fashion—a talented craftspony undervaluing their work for fear of asking too much. “Darling, a fair price for everypony includes yourself,” she said with a gentle smile. “Listen, my name is Rarity, and I run—”
Rarity’s introduction was interrupted by the stallion’s gasp. His eyes widened as if truly seeing her for the first time, then darted to her cutie mark. “Y-you’re really her!” he stammered, his telekinesis faltering and the jewelry he’d been trying to sell falling to the ground as he bowed before her like royalty. “You’re one of the Heroes of Equestria! I-I’ve read your Friendship Journal, and I saw the ‘Most Beautiful Mane’ spread you did for Vanity Mare and I should have recognized you, but I’ve only seen pictures and they don’t do you justice and, and, and-oh, Celestia, Metal, shut up!“ He cut himself off by clapping a hoof over his own muzzle, his blush practically glowing by now. “Sorry,” he murmured, lowering his hoof. “I didn’t mean to fancolt out like that.”
Rarity chuckled, a delicate blush coloring her own cheeks. “Oh, that’s quite alright, Metal, dear,” she said with a warm smile, turning her head coyly and patting her mane. Using his name, she hoped, might help build a rapport. “It’s rather flattering, truly. At the end of the day, though, I’m just a fashion designer—albeit a rather fabulous one.”
Glancing at the fallen jewelry, Rarity picked it up with her telekinesis, holding it close to her face to examine the delicate-looking weave of the tiny steel rings. “But please, let us return to your beautiful creations,” she said, slipping naturally back into her friendly-professional demeanor. “Why do you charge so little for such exquisite work?”
“Um, Tested. Metal Tested, I mean. That’s my name, I mean.” If the poor stallion turned any redder, Rarity would be amazed if he didn’t burst into flame. “I’m…like I said, I’m only trying to give everypony a fair price. My materials don’t cost that much…” He trailed off, shaking himself and looking away in embarrassment. As he tried to regain his composure, Rarity took the opportunity to fully absorb just how woebegone his appearance was.
Rarity nodded thoughtfully, following Metal Tested’s reasoning. “But making your work affordable doesn’t mean depriving yourself of the just due for your labors, darling,” she said warmly. An idea struck her—discussing business over a spa treatment had always yielded excellent results. “I would love to feature your jewelry in my shop, the Carousel Boutique. I was just heading to the spa; why don’t you join me, and we can discuss the details there?” She gently tucked the jewelry back into his saddlebag with a bright, encouraging smile. “My treat, of course.”
Metal Tested’s blush deepened until it seemed to radiate through his entire body. Glancing down at his shabby appearance, he pawed nervously at the ground, his ears pinned back. “I don’t think they’d even let me through the door, Miss Rarity,” he murmured, his voice tinged with embarrassment.
“Oh, tosh!” Rarity said, tossing her mane and gently lifting Metal’s chin with a hoof, her smile warm and reassuring. “Everypony deserves the chance to look and feel their best. Besides, I’m a personal friend of the owners, and I promise they would welcome anypony with an appreciation for the finer things in life. Judging by the quality of your work, you more than qualify.” She gave a decisive nod, lowering her hoof to let him think. “Consider it an investment in your well-being and future. With a refreshed look and a relaxed mind, you’ll be able to present your creations with the confidence they deserve.”
Metal Tested hesitated a few more moments; he didn’t pull away from Rarity’s hoof when she touched his chin, but his eyes darted about, as if maintaining eye contact was uncomfortable for him. “A-alright, Ms. Rarity,” he finally stammered, “but only because you insist.” He glanced away quickly, but not before Rarity caught a slight shimmer of moisture in his eye.
Rarity nodded, allowing Metal Tested the salve to his pride. He might have received pity from others in recent times, but that was a poor substitute for the simple generosity and kindness she was offering. “Thank you ever so much,” she smiled, moving up next to Metal Tested to gently bump her shoulder against his. “I knew you weren’t the kind of stallion who would make a mare beg,” she teased, “and a spa day is SO much more enjoyable with a friend. If I am to insist on anything, though, it must be that you simply call me Rarity.” Batting her eyelashes, she tossed her mane and started toward the spa again. “Come along, now. The spa awaits, and I’m sure you’ll find their services nothing short of rejuvenating.”
Metal Tested nodded as he turned and fell into step next to Rarity. “I’m sure they will be, Ms.…um, Rarity,” he said, quickly correcting himself. “I know from reading about you that you always insist on the best.” He hesitated, walking in silence for a few steps before speaking again, his voice small. “Um…is there any chance you could sign this?” From his saddlebag, Metal Tested floated out a pen and a copy of the Friendship Journal that Rarity and her friends had written and that Twilight Sparkle had published. Unlike the souvenir-hunters from just after the initial publication, though, this one was a battered, dog-eared old paperback that had obviously been read multiple times.
Rarity’s heart warmed at the sight of the Journal. It was always a joy to meet somepony who had not only actually read the book but cherished it. “Of course, darling,” she said, taking the book and pen with her telekinesis. “It’s always a pleasure to share a bit of friendship.” In her elegant script, she wrote, Dear Metal Tested—May your days be filled with creativity and fabulousness! Remember, true beauty comes from the heart. -Your Friend, Rarity. She added a delicate monogram of her cutie mark before floating the book and pen back to him. “Here you are,” she said warmly. “I hope it continues to inspire you in all your dreams.”
“Thank you,” Metal Tested said as he accepted the book and tucked it back into his saddlebag almost reverently. “I…I really appreciate it.” The last few minutes of their walk to the spa was spent in companionable silence. As they reached the building, Metal Tested used his telekinesis to hold the door for Rarity, and she smiled in appreciation of his gentlecoltly manners.
“Rarity! My favorite customer!” Lotus Blossom gushed in her musical accent as the fashionista and her guest entered. The blue earth pony came out from behind the counter to greet Rarity with an embrace and a kiss on each cheek. “But you have been away from us far too long! Are you quite alright?” She stepped back to hold Rarity at hoof’s length, looking her over.
“Good afternoon, Lotus Blossom!” Rarity replied with a light laugh, returning the hug and kisses. Other than her fellow Heroes of Equestria, the spa pony was one of her closest friends. “You always know how to make a mare feel special. Work has kept me busier than I’d like," she added with a rueful shrug. "But that doesn't matter now-I’m here and ready to make up for lost pampering!” As they released their embrace, Rarity motioned to Metal Tested. “I met this charming fellow on the way. Lotus Blossom, I’d like you to meet Metal Tested, a jeweler of no small talent from what I’ve seen.”
“Of course!” Lotus Blossom smiled, stepping forward to offer Metal Tested a hug as well. “Any friend of Rarity is a friend of mine.”
To Rarity’s surprise, Metal Tested drew back from Lotus Blossom, his ears flicking nervously and his expression tense. Few stallions would have refused the embrace of such an attractive mare. “Um…pleased to meet you,” he murmured, offering his hoof hesitantly.
If Lotus Blossom noticed Metal Tested’s ragged appearance or shy demeanor, she gave no sign, her smile remaining warm and inviting. “And a very great pleasure to meet you as well, Metal Tested,” she said, transitioning smoothly from an offered hug to a polite hoofshake. As she moved back behind the counter, she turned her attention back to Rarity. “Now, Rarity, what shall it be today? A Pampered Pony Hooficure? Or perhaps our Sauna Massage Special?”
Putting aside the question of Metal’s odd reaction to Lotus Blossom, Rarity stepped up to the counter with her usual grace. “Metal Tested and I will have his-and-hers ‘New You Specials’, please, on my tab.” Lowering her voice, she murmured to her old friend, “The poor dear looks as though he hasn’t had the chance to be taken care of in quite some time.”
“But of course,” Lotus Blossom said with a warm smile, picking up her pen in her teeth to mark down Rarity’s request. “Ah, and you are in luck!” she added as she set the pen aside. “Another pair of customers canceled, so we can take care of you right away.”
“Excellent!” Rarity said brightly as a spa attendant appeared with robes for her and Metal Tested. “Why, with just a little polish, Metal Tested, I do believe we’ll uncover the diamond in your rough. Just relax and let the attendants work their magic.” Still looking somewhat bewildered, Metal Tested followed Rarity and the spa attendant to begin their treatments.
The New You Special began with a manecut, and Rarity and Metal Tested were seated side by side in the salon chairs. “Now, tell me, darling,” Rarity said as her beautician draped a cape over her and began to touch up her flowing locks. “Wherever did you learn to create such intricate jewelry?”
Metal Tested shrugged modestly as his barber started taming his own overgrown mane. “I taught myself, really,” he said. “It’s not that hard; you just need pliers and patience.”
Rarity laughed softly, her voice like a tinkling bell. “Oh, darling, that last is likely the rarest resource in all of Equestria,” she said, a playful smile gracing her lips.. “But do you mean that you came up with your designs all by yourself?”
Metal Tested shook his head carefully to avoid disrupting the barber’s work. “Not exactly,” he said. “I’m a nerd, really. ‘Star Trot’, ‘Ogres and Oubliettes’, ‘Power Ponies’, ‘Daring Do’, myths and legends of Old Equestria…you name it, I nerd it.” He gave a small, self-deprecating chuckle.
Rarity smiled at Metal Tested’s modest description of himself. “With such interests, I do believe you’ll get along famously with my friends,” she said. “Spike runs an ‘Ogres and Oubliettes’ game; he’s just recently started teaching me to play, in fact.” She shook her head in self-reprimand. “But I’m interrupting. Please, do go on.”
Metal Tested winced slightly as his barber worked through a particularly stubborn tangle in his mane. “Sorry, I…I’m still trying to process all of this,” he admitted. “You and your friends are my heroes and…” He trailed off, his cheeks reddening again as he looked away, clearing his throat awkwardly. “A-anyway, I was a pretty shy foal. Sew Sweet…my first marefriend…she introduced me to things like O&O conventions and Olde Equestria Faires—things I never even knew existed before I met her.”
As Metal Tested’s voice lowered and turned rougher when speaking of his first love, Rarity could sense a deep-seated pain. “She must have been very special,” she said softly, her voice full of sympathy, “to have captured the heart of somepony so creative.”
Metal Tested gave Rarity a small, bashful smile. “I…I’ve never been good at making friends,” he said. “I had a couple when I met her, but they were mainly just ponies I shared hobbies with, not anything really close like you and your friends. She…well, she was special because she started bringing me out of my shell, at least a little.” He took a deep, bracing breath. “Anyway, I picked up a book on chainmail at a convention and just went from there. It’s even how I got my cutie mark,” he explained, motioning to his flank. “I was a late bloomer. It shows a single section of Canterlot four-in-one weave.”
“Chainmail?” Rarity raised a curious brow. “Do you mean armor, like the Royal Guard wears?”
Metal Tested nodded slightly. “The Royal Guard uses special metals to make their armor lighter and stronger,” he explained, “but the same techniques have been used for chainmail armor and chain jewelry for centuries. I’ve made some armor pieces too, but that’s more of a niche market for LARPers and cosplayers, since the Royal Guard has its own armorers.” He sighed softly, a touch of resignation in his voice. “I haven’t had much luck with the hoofmade jewelry and accessories either. I guess I’m just not much of a salespony.”
Rarity’s heart went out to the sad, lonely stallion, moved by both the love he had lost and the challenges he still faced. “Well, I, for one, find your dedication to your craft truly inspiring,” she said, her voice gentle and sincere. “From the pieces you showed me, it’s clear you pour your heart into every link and ring. Self-promotion is a daunting challenge for anypony, but your talent speaks for itself.”
“I wish it would speak a little louder,” Metal Tested murmured wryly as the barber began spreading shave gel over his face. “Maybe then I’d make more sales.” Despite his words, he seemed to relax slightly, Rarity’s praise soothing some of his tension, though the weight of years of self-doubt and disappointment still lingered.
Rarity nodded appreciatively as her beautician massaged shampoo into her mane, the soothing touch helping to ease any lingering tension of the day. “I completely understand, darling. Building a brand and establishing a loyal clientele takes time.” She paused, her voice softening with genuine concern. “I hope you’ll forgive my candor, but it seems you’ve been operating without a strong foundation to support you.” Offering him a warm, encouraging smile, she continued, “Nevertheless, your work has captured my attention, and I’m certain it will enchant others as well. With a touch of guidance and the right exposure, I have every confidence your business will flourish.”
Metal Tested’s breath hitched, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Rarity’s heart ached as she imagined how long it had been since anypony offered him genuine encouragement instead of trying to haggle him down to a pittance. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion. He took a steadying breath, his shoulders visibly loosening as the barber’s blade began clearing away the rough stubble from his face. “Something I noticed when I read your Friendship Journal,” he added quietly, his lips barely moving so as not to disrupt the barber’s work. “Your friends talk a lot about how generous you are, but a lot of times you don’t seem to realize it yourself—or at least, you don’t write about it that way.”
Rarity chuckled kindly, touched by his observation. “Well, I suppose it can be easier to recognize virtues in others than in ourselves,” she said. “That’s part of why friendship is so precious…it lets us see ourselves through the eyes of those who care about us. In doing so, we discover qualities about ourselves that we might otherwise overlook.”
“Like I said, I’ve never been good at making friends,” Metal Tested said, a flicker of regret shadowing his expression. “I…oh, never mind. It’s a long story.”
Rarity leaned over slightly, her expression soft with understanding as she gently clasped Metal’s hoof in her fetlock. “Metal, darling, you don’t have to share your story unless you feel ready,” she reassured him, her voice steady and warm. “But always remember: the magic of friendship lies in the depth of our connections, not their number. More friends may add merriment, but I’ve always believed that quality far outweighs quantity.” Her gentle squeeze lingered for a moment before she withdrew her hoof. “And for what it’s worth, I have no doubt we’re going to be good friends. After all, we share a passion for bringing beauty into the world—that’s a bond worth celebrating.”
Metal Tested inclined his head slowly, the faint glisten of unshed tears pooling in his eyes. This time, he made no effort to mask his emotions, though he held them carefully at bay. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, the words laden with quiet sincerity.
The remainder of their mane treatments unfolded in a peaceful, companionable silence. As the attendants rinsed the last traces of shampoo and conditioner from their manes, Metal Tested exhaled deeply, his brow furrowed in thought. “You mentioned wanting to feature my work in your shop,” he began tentatively, rising from his chair as Rarity gestured for him to follow her toward the hot tub. “How would that even work? Like you said, I don’t have a proper workshop… just some pliers, my materials, and the dresser in my hotel room.”
Rarity’s ears perked up at his question, her smile widening as she eased herself onto the hot tub’s submerged bench, her professional instincts flaring to life. “Well, first and foremost, I’m delighted that you’re open to the idea,” she said warmly, her gaze flicking toward Metal as he took a seat at a courteous distance on the same bench. “To start, we can display a curated selection of your existing pieces. I believe your jewelry would complement some of my own designs exquisitely.” Her eyes sparkled with inspiration as she envisioned the creative possibilities.
“As for a workspace,” Rarity continued, her tone becoming thoughtful, “I have a storage room on the second floor that boasts a large window with excellent southern exposure—ideal for natural light. I’d planned to convert it into a secondary work area for myself, but I never quite got around to it. We can repurpose it into a studio for your craft.” She offered Metal a warm smile, her voice brimming with sincerity. “And once you run out of your current materials, or need something specific for a custom piece, I’ll be happy to provide what you need.
“Now, regarding profits from your work,” Rarity began, transitioning smoothly to the financial details of their budding partnership, “I propose an even fifty-fifty split. With my sales expertise, I’m confident your creations will command far higher prices than what you’ve been asking—especially once you’re working with premium materials.” She offered a gentle smile, her voice warm but firm. “Please don’t take this as criticism, darling, but I believe you’ve been drastically undervaluing both your craft and yourself. Success starts with recognizing your own worth.”
Metal Tested glanced away again, though if he blushed, it was disguised by the heat-flush the hot tub brought to his face. “I… I don’t know what to say,” he admitted at last, shaking his head slightly. His voice carried a mixture of disbelief and wonder. “Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. Honestly, a part of me keeps expecting a prank pony to jump out and slap a pie in my face.”
Rarity chuckled. “Be careful…saying such things may summon Pinkie Pie,” she teased. “But I can assure you, there’s no prank afoot. In fact, I believe this can be the beginning of a beautiful friendship and a wonderful partnership.”
Metal Tested paused, his hesitation palpable as he mulled over her words. Finally, he exhaled deeply, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Well, if I can’t trust one of the Elements of Harmony, who can I?” he said softly. His smile widened slightly as he added, “I’ll do it. And… thank you, Rarity. For giving me a chance.”
Rarity’s heart swelled with delight. “You are most welcome, Metal Tested,” she said warmly. “Very welcome indeed.” Rising gracefully from the hot tub, she used her magic to float over a pair of towels, drying herself and wrapping one snugly around her mane in a neat turban. “But for now, I believe we’ve had our fill of business talk. Let’s take this time to relax and enjoy the rest of our treatments. We can discuss the finer details later.”
“You were right, Rarity,” Metal Tested remarked as they stepped out of the spa into the cool early-evening air. His voice carried a newfound lightness, and a small, genuine smile graced his face. “I feel like a new stallion.”
Rarity chuckled warmly. “You certainly look like a new stallion,” she said, her tone carrying a hint of admiration as she gave him an appraising glance. Metal Tested’s mane and tail had been expertly trimmed into a short, rakishly tousled style, and the clean shave accentuated the sharp, refined angles of his face. If he was still a little too thin, Rarity was confident that would soon change once his life settled into a healthier routine. “A very handsome one, I might add.”
Metal Tested’s cheeks flushed at the compliment, his bashful demeanor becoming increasingly familiar to Rarity. She noted with quiet amusement how easily he blushed, though she could hardly fault him—after all, she sometimes reacted much the same way when meeting her own idols. “Thank you,” he murmured softly, ducking his head as a shy smile tugged at his lips.
Just as the moment settled, Metal’s stomach betrayed him with a loud, unceremonious growl. His blush deepened, spreading to the tips of his ears, and he awkwardly rubbed his stomach with a forehoof. “I guess I should find something to eat,” he mumbled, his gaze dropping to the ground. “I’ll… see you in the morning, at your boutique?” He began to turn away, a tentative step already carrying him off.
“Oh, darling, don’t be absurd!” Rarity interjected with a dazzling smile as she stepped closer, slipping one foreleg through Metal’s. To her surprise, he flinched slightly at the contact, his muscles tensing as though he were suppressing the urge to withdraw. Undeterred, Rarity continued with cheerful insistence, “We’ve just enjoyed a wonderful spa day and sealed a promising business partnership. Surely, you won’t deny me the pleasure of treating you to dinner to celebrate?” She punctuated her appeal with a playful flutter of her lashes. “There’s a new Grand Galloping Gourmet I’ve been dying to try, and this feels like the perfect occasion.”
“G-Grand Galloping Gourmet?” Metal stammered, his ears pinning back. He truly did have one of the most expressive faces Rarity had ever seen, going from a deep blush to pale alarm in just moments. “Don’t they require jackets and ties for stallions?”
“Yes, they do,” Rarity admitted with a sympathetic nod. “But fear not—they keep a selection on-hoof to lend to patrons.” Her tone brightened as inspiration struck. “And if you’ll allow me to borrow some of your jewelry for the evening, it could serve as the perfect advertisement—a little something to pique the curiosity of potential customers ahead of your grand debut.” She gave his foreleg a gentle, reassuring squeeze, her eyes sparkling with playful appeal. “Now, darling, surely you wouldn’t leave a lady to dine alone, would you?”
Metal Tested hesitated for a few moments, his indecision plain. Then, with a soft sigh, his ears flicked back up as some color returned to his face. “Well… if you insist, Rarity,” he murmured, one corner of his mouth twitching shyly upward. “But these aren’t just loans—I want you to keep them.” His horn glowed as his saddlebag opened, and a selection of his jewelry floated out in a shimmering telekinetic aura. “Here—these bracelets and anklets are in Byzantrot weave,” he explained, fastening the delicate, rounded chains around her fetlocks and ankles with practiced care. “This necklace is Saddle Arabian three-in-one, with a Coltic Rosette pendant.” He lifted the next piece, the triangular cross-section of the chain perfectly complementing the intricate, flowerlike design of the flat pendant. “And this headdress is in Canterlot six-in-one.” The final piece centered on a large horn ring, with strips of flat-weave chainmail draping elegantly around her mane and across her scalp, creating the effect of a flexible, regal crown. As he worked, Metal’s enthusiasm for his craft was unmistakable, his voice brimming with pride. Stepping back to admire his handiwork, he nodded in satisfaction. “There. You look like a princess.”
“Oh, Metal, darling!” Rarity gasped, her cheeks tinged with a soft blush as she admired the exquisite pieces adorning her. She raised a forehoof to lightly touch the headdress, her eyes sparkling with delight. “These are absolutely stunning… I wish I had a mirror at this very moment to see the full effect. Are you quite certain you want to make these gifts?”
“If you don’t want to think of them as gifts, think of them as investments,” Metal said with one of his shy smiles, mirroring Rarity’s earlier reasoning for the spa treatment. “You’re right—if ponies see you wearing my work, they’re bound to want some for themselves.” His horn glowed softly as he floated out another piece, a necklace he quickly fastened around his own neck. Crafted in the round Byzantrot weave, it featured a longer strip of flat chainmail that hung down the front in the shape of a… “See? I even brought my own tie,” he added with a faint chuckle. “All they’ll need to lend me is a jacket.”
Rarity laughed delightedly as she clapped her hooves. “Metal Tested, you truly are full of surprises!” Stepping closer, she gently took his forehoof in hers, her smile radiating warmth. “I have no doubt this evening will be the perfect conclusion to a marvelous day.” With that, she began leading him down the street, her steps light and graceful.
Metal Tested let out a soft chuckle, his voice barely above a murmur. “And I’ll be with the most beautiful mare in Equestria,” he said, the sincerity in his tone making the words all the more heartfelt.
Rarity’s cheeks flushed faintly, and she dipped her head with a modest smile. “Oh, Metal, you’re far too kind,” she replied warmly. With that, the two resumed their stroll down the street, the evening air carrying a sense of quiet anticipation between them.
The Grand Galloping Gourmet wasn’t quite as formal and exclusive as its namesake gala, but it still cultivated a sophisticated, rarified atmosphere.The maître d’ supplied Metal Tested with a loaned jacket and whisked their saddlebags away to the cloakroom with practiced ease. A few minutes later, Rarity and Metal were seated at a cozy table near a window, the candlelight adding a warm glow to the restaurant’s serene ambiance.
“So, Metal,” Rarity began, glancing up from her menu with a friendly smile, “why don’t you tell me a little more about yourself? Nothing that makes you uncomfortable, of course, but I’d love to get to know you better.”
Metal Tested hesitated, taking a small sip of his water. “Well… I moved around a lot growing up,” he said after a pause, his tone cautious, as though weighing each word. “My parents were in the Royal Guard—Border Division. We ended up being transferred every few years.”
“Oh, how marvelous!” Rarity exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “Traveling the borderlands, meeting creatures from different cultures… it must have been fascinating!”
Metal’s smile was faint and fleeting, his gaze dipping to the table. “It was, at first,” he admitted, a sigh escaping him as he shook his head. “But the novelty wore off. Like I said earlier, I’ve never been good at making friends.”
Rarity’s brow furrowed slightly, but before she could respond, the waiter arrived to take their orders. Once their meals were chosen and the waiter departed, she turned back to Metal, her expression softening. “I must admit, darling, I don’t quite understand,” she said gently. “You’ve won me over easily enough.”
Metal Tested shook his head, his hoof absently tracing the rim of his water glass. “You’re being kind, Rarity,” he said, his voice tinged with quiet gratitude. “Generous, even. And, well… generosity is your Element of Harmony, isn’t it?” He chuckled lightly, though the sound lacked humor, and tapped his hoof against the table in thought. “But… there’s something wrong with me. With my mind.” His other hoof lifted, tapping against his temple.
Rarity tilted her head, her gaze steady but kind. “Whatever do you mean?” she asked, her tone laced with cautious compassion. She understood that such topics could be delicate and resolved not to press too hard.
Metal gave a small shrug, the motion almost resigned. “It’s hard to explain,” he began, his words slow and deliberate. “Most ponies seem to pick up on social cues naturally—body language, facial expressions, stuff like that. For me, it’s… harder.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “Even making eye contact feels uncomfortable unless I know somepony really well. You’ve probably noticed I don’t look you in the eye very much.” He exhaled heavily, his shoulders slumping as though relieved to admit it aloud. “I’m better than I was as a foal, but I’ve had to learn a lot of these things. It doesn’t come naturally. Like, I can usually tell now if somepony’s being sarcastic, but reading feelings? I’m awful at it unless it’s really obvious.”
He paused, his gaze dropping to the table. “When I was a colt, it made me an easy target. Always the new foal, always the odd one out. The other kids figured out pretty quickly that I was easy to lie to… easy to fool. And the bullies?” He let out a bitter chuckle. “They had a field day.”
“Oh, my dear, that’s simply dreadful,” Rarity said softly, her voice filled with genuine sympathy.
Metal Tested nodded, his expression clouded with memory. “Always moving around, never staying in one place long enough to put down roots…” He paused, as though searching for the right words. “It wore me down. I got kicked in the flank so many times—metaphorically and literally—that I stopped trusting other ponies, even the ones I thought of as friends.” His voice caught briefly, and he took a quick sip of water before continuing. “Sew Sweet… she was different. She was the first pony I felt really saw me.” His gaze dropped, and he blinked rapidly, as if warding off an unwelcome memory. “It… it was wonderful. But also terrifying.”
Rarity nodded with understanding, her expression soft. “Yes, I know that feeling well. Opening up to another can feel so freeing, like standing under a vast and beautiful sky… until you notice a roc circling overhead.” The corner of her mouth twitched wryly. “Having been picked up by a roc before, I know what I’m talking about.”
Metal’s lips twitched into a faint smile at her metaphor. “Yeah… that’s exactly it.” He took a steadying breath, his hooves resting lightly on the edge of the table. “Meeting new ponies is still hard for me. That’s probably why I’m such a terrible salespony,” he admitted, his tone laced with self-deprecation. “Even under the best circumstances, I get nervous and shaky. And… well, I still have trust issues.”
He hesitated, his gaze drifting toward the window as if gathering courage. “To be honest, if I hadn’t read as much about you as I have, I probably wouldn’t have taken your offer. I would’ve assumed there was some catch.” He glanced back at her, his ears drooping slightly. “But after reading your Friendship Journal…” He shrugged, looking away again. “I know it’s silly, but it made me feel like I already knew you and your friends. It’s a big part of why I decided to come to Ponyville and try starting over.”
Rarity offered a gentle smile, reaching across the table to pat Metal’s hoof with her own. “Oh, Metal, it’s not silly at all,” she said warmly. “We poured so much of ourselves into that journal—our thoughts, our feelings, our lessons. Hearing that you absorbed those messages so deeply, especially after the challenges you’ve faced, means more than I can say. I daresay you’ve taken it to heart better than some of the more… excitable fanponies we encountered after its release.” Her eyes softened as she added, “I think it was very brave of you to come to a new place, despite everything. And knowing that I inspired even a little of that courage? That makes me proud.”
Metal Tested tensed ever so slightly at the initial contact, his gaze flickering to her hoof before gradually relaxing as her words washed over him. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice quiet but genuine. A faint smile followed, bringing a touch of lightness to his expression. “I seem to be saying that a lot today.”
Rarity chuckled softly, withdrawing her hoof just as their waiter returned with their meals. The conversation paused while the uniformed pegasus set their plates down, the soft clink of tableware filling the air. Once the waiter departed, they began to enjoy their meals, the warm ambiance settling between them.
“I think you would have liked Sew Sweet,” Metal said after a moment, breaking the comfortable silence between bites of his roasted tofu and root vegetables. His voice carried a wistful fondness. “She was a designer too, though her focus was cosplay, not high fashion.”
Rarity’s eyebrows arched slightly, and she set her fork down with a measured, polite smile. “How… unique,” she said, her tone carrying both genuine curiosity and a hint of hesitation. “I can certainly appreciate the dedication required for cosplay. It may not have the enduring sophistication of haute couture, but the creativity behind it is quite impressive.” She leaned forward slightly, her curiosity taking the lead. “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you meet?”
Metal shrugged lightly, his gaze momentarily distant as he speared another bite of tofu. “We met at a LARP—live-action roleplay,” he explained, his voice warming with faint nostalgia. “It’s where ponies dress up in armor and costumes and pretend to be characters in a fictional setting. This one was for a game called ‘Nightmare Knights’,where creatures from our darkest myths secretly exist as a society hidden among us, influencing modern life.” He paused, a wistful smile touching his lips. “She was playing a siren—a type of singing seapony that feeds on negative emotions. I was a windigo.”
“A siren and a windigo?” Rarity tilted her head, her interest sharpening as a warm smile spread across her face. “What a delightfully dramatic pairing! I imagine the costumes must have been quite something.”
Metal chuckled softly, nodding. “Sew Sweet’s was. She wore this dress with a built-up fishtail and metallic-looking scales. I just threw on a white robe with streaming ribbons tied to my forelegs and ankles.” He grinned, his expression tinged with nostalgia. “I tripped over those ribbons more times than I like to remember.” He sighed and shook his head. “That trouble I talked about with reading social cues? She was flirting with me for over a year before I even noticed.”
Rarity’s laugh came softly, melodic as her eyes sparkled with amusement. “And yet she waited for you to notice her interest? My word, that mare must have had Celestia’s own patience.” She shook her head gently. “I do hope you’ve forgiven yourself, darling. Some ponies are subtle, and others… less so.”
Metal laughed lightly, his posture relaxing. “Yeah, she…she was great. I didn’t realize just how much until later.” His smile faltered, giving way to a distant look. “She had a way of reading ponies, you know? I guess she saw something in me worth waiting for.”
Rarity regarded him with a thoughtful look, her smile softening into something more earnest. “That’s a rare quality,” she said. “It sounds like she cared for you very deeply.”
Metal hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. More than I ended up deserving,” he said quietly, his gaze lowering as though caught in a memory he couldn’t quite shake.
Sensing the downturn in her companion’s mood, Rarity tried to revive the conversation with a slight shift in topic. “Speaking of sirens,” she began, leaning in slightly, “according to Twilight, they’re quite real. She had to venture to another world-one Star Swirl the Bearded banished them to ages ago-when they began to regain their power there.”
Metal blinked, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he searched her face. “You’re not serious,” he said, his tone carrying a note of amused skepticism.
“I’m very serious,” Rarity said with a knowing chuckle, her voice dropping as though sharing a delicious secret. “Apparently, this world is populated by strange creatures called ‘hoomuns,’ or something equally peculiar,” Rarity said, her eyes glinting with intrigue. “And, if you can believe it, we all have a kind of twin there.”
Metal’s incredulous look deepened. “Now I know you’re joking.”
Rarity laughed again, her tone light but earnest as she raised her right hoof as if swearing an oath. “Filly Guide’s honor, darling. It’s a fascinating place, from how Twilight describes it. Almost no magic as we understand it, but they’ve either developed an entirely different kind or found ingenious ways to compensate.”
“Wow…” Metal Tested shook his head in wonder. “It sounds like something from a bad ‘Nightmare Knights’ fanfiction. I hope I get the chance to ask her about it sometime.”
“I’m sure she’d love to share her adventures there,” Rarity nodded encouragingly. “I’ll make sure to introduce you when the time is right.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a family of three earth ponies approaching their table. “Rarity, so good to see you!” said the stallion, who had a light tan coat, a dark-brown mane and tail and a cutie mark consisting of three money bags. “Enjoying the restaurant? My latest investment!”
“Good evening, Mr. Rich!” Rarity smiled up at the stallion. “Metal, this is Filthy Rich, the owner of Barnyard Bargains and several other businesses in town.” Motioning to the mare and filly in turn, she continued, “This is his wife Spoiled Rich, and their daughter, Diamond Tiara.” Mother and daughter had similar pink coats, but Spoiled Rich had a somewhat lighter-purple mane and tail than Rarity, with a cutie mark of milk being poured out of a glass. Diamond Tiara’s mane and tail were lavender with a white stripe and she wore her namesake on her head as well as having it for a cutie mark, with the slenderness of early adolescence. “Rich family, this is Metal Tested, my latest fashion discovery.”
“Um…hello,” Metal mumbled. Rarity noticed that he seemed paler and more tense than a moment before, edging away from the Rich family on his seat. He seemed almost…frightened. Could this be a manifestation of the social anxiety he had spoken of?
“Please, just Rich,” Filthy Rich said with a relaxed businesspony’s smile, offering his hoof. “If our Rarity has taken notice of you, colt, I’m sure you’ll be somepony to watch out for.” He glanced down at Metal Tested’s chainmail tie. “That’s a very interesting tie you’re wearing.”
“Thanks,” Metal Tested said softly, giving Filthy Rich’s hoof a quick shake, then looking down at his plate. “I made it myself.”
“I do hope you won’t take Metal’s demeanor amiss,” Rarity interjected smoothly. “He’s new to Ponyville and can be somewhat shy.”
“Oh, that’s quite alright,” Filthy Rich nodded. “Actually, Rarity, we came over because Diamond Tiara wanted to ask you something.”
The little filly stepped forward with a smile; from the corner of her eye, Rarity noticed Metal Tested seeming to grow even more tense as Diamond Tiara approached. “That’s some really neat jewelry you’re wearing, Ms. Rarity!” she said with all the enthusiasm of a fashion-conscious fourteen-year-old spotting a cute new accessory. “Where did you get it?”
Rarity chuckled, offering a gracious smile. “Well, darling, my jewelry tonight was actually horn-made by Metal Tested, just like his tie,” she explained, extending a forehoof so Diamond Tiara could take a closer look at one of her bracelets. “I plan to feature his work in the Carousel Boutique as soon as we design and set up a proper display.”
“Cool!” Diamond Tiara grinned, leaning closer to examine the intricate details of the bracelet. “I’ll definitely come see it once it’s ready!”
Rarity chuckled again, nodding warmly. “You do that, dear. I’m sure Metal and I will both look forward to seeing you there.” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Metal Tested twitch slightly at her statement, though he remained silent.
The group lingered a few minutes longer, exchanging polite small talk while Metal Tested quietly picked at his meal. When the Rich family finally departed, Metal glanced after them, his posture tense, then turned back to Rarity. “Do you work with Mr. Rich often?” he asked, his voice soft.
Rarity shook her head with a light chuckle. “Oh, no, darling, we’re in completely different markets. Barnyard Bargains focuses on affordable goods for everypony’s general needs, whereas I specialize in haute couture.” She tilted her head slightly, her expression turning concerned as she nibbled a leaf of lettuce. “Are you alright, Metal? You seem a bit… uneasy.”
Metal shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze fixed on the table. “I… don’t do well around foals,” he admitted, his voice quieter than before. “It’s… more than my normal problems.” He hesitated, then shook his head as though trying to dismiss his thoughts. “It’s hard to explain.” He glanced up briefly, meeting Rarity’s gaze for the barest moment. “You have a little sister, don’t you?”
Rarity nodded, her frown deepening in concern. “Yes, Sweetie Belle,” she said softly, raising a brow. “Metal, dear, is something the matter?”
Metal Tested sighed heavily, his gaze shifting away. “Rarity, I… I really appreciate your offer, but after thinking about it, I don’t think it’ll work out,” he said, his tone subdued. He picked up his napkin and dabbed at his mouth, avoiding her eyes. “I’m sorry for wasting your time. Thank you for the spa treatment and dinner.” With that, he rose abruptly, his head bowed, and walked swiftly toward the exit.
“What?” Rarity blinked, caught off guard by his sudden reversal. “Metal Tested, wait!” she called, pushing back her chair and quickly trotting after him. She reached him just as he returned the borrowed jacket and slung his battered saddlebags over his back.
“Metal!” she called again, and he stopped just outside the restaurant doors. Rarity hurried to his side and gently rested a hoof on his shoulder, her voice soft but firm. “Metal, darling, please, tell me what’s wrong,” she urged, her tone filled with earnest compassion. “Whatever the problem, I’m sure we can work through it together.”
Metal Tested shook his head, his gaze still fixed on the ground. “I’d really rather not talk about it,” he murmured, his voice subdued. “Especially not in public. I just… I don’t think it’ll work.” He hesitated before glancing back at her, a small, sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I still want you to keep the jewelry, though. You really do look like a princess.”
Rarity frowned, her concern deepening, but after a moment, she straightened and shook her head firmly. Rising onto her hind legs, she crossed her forehooves, fixing him with an arch look. “No, I won’t,” she declared with quiet determination. “I won’t pry into the reasons for your discomfort if you don’t wish to share them, Metal Tested. But if you’re going to back out of our arrangement, then you’ll need every piece of jewelry you can sell.”
Her horn glowed as the headdress floated from her mane, suspended in the soft light of her magic. She hesitated when she saw the stricken look on Metal’s face, and her own expression softened with regret, her tone softening. “These gifts are exquisite, Metal, truly, and all the more so because you made them yourself.” As she spoke, she unfastened the necklace, bracelets and anklets one by one, floating them toward Metal. “But accepting them would take food from your mouth, and I simply can’t allow that.”
Metal’s eyes darted between Rarity and the floating jewelry, his inner conflict plainly visible. He swallowed hard, his shoulders slumping as he sighed. “I…” He trailed off, visibly struggling to find the words. After a long pause, he took a deep breath and glanced away. “If I… if I do this,” he said hesitantly, his voice almost a whisper, “could you promise… to always be there when Sweetie Belle—or any foals—are around? I just… I don’t want to be alone with them.”
Rarity’s face broke out in a lovely smile.“Oh, Metal Tested, of course!” she said, her voice light but earnest. She rested her hooves gently on his shoulders, resisting the urge to pull him into a hug. “If that’s what you need to feel comfortable, we’ll make it work, I promise. You’ll never have to be alone with foals in the shop.”
Metal Tested nodded nervously, a small smile flickering across his lips. “Thank you,” he said, then glanced at the jewelry still floating in the air. “So…does that mean you’ll keep my gifts?”
Rarity chuckled, letting the jewelry float back to their proper places about her body. “If we are going to be working together after all, I suppose it wouldn't be ladylike of me to refuse,” she smiled. “Thank you very much.”
A polite cough from behind Rarity interrupted the two unicorns, drawing their attention to the maître d’, who stood with a slip of paper grasped elegantly in his fetlock. “Madame, you appear to have forgotten your saddlebags,” he said in a polished, faintly snooty tone that spoke of one accustomed to high-class standards and perpetually, quietly disappointed by the world’s failure to meet them. “There is also the matter of the check.”
Both Rarity and Metal Tested blushed, chuckling nervously as they realized their oversight. In their rush, they had nearly walked out without paying. “Yes, of course, my good stallion,” Rarity said smoothly, recovering with practiced grace. “Please forgive me; I’ll attend to it momentarily.” She turned to Metal Tested, her smile warm and encouraging. “Metal, I’ll expect to see you at the Carousel Boutique tomorrow morning, bright and early—shall we say eight o’clock? We have much to accomplish.”
Metal Tested nodded, his sigh almost imperceptible. “I’ll see you then, Rarity,” he said, his voice edged with a quiet tension. “And… thanks. For everything.”
“You’re very welcome,” Rarity replied, her smile brightening. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…” With a polite nod, she turned to follow the maître d’ back into the restaurant.
Metal Tested watched her retreating form, a flicker of longing shadowing his expression before he sighed, his gaze dropping to the cobblestones. After a moment, he turned and began walking back toward the Trotting Trough Inn, where his rented room awaited him.
Author's Note
As a chainmail artist in real life, all of the weaves I name in this chapter are real, just with ponyfied names. If you're into chainmail armor or jewelry, see if you can guess each one!
Chained Hearts - A Love Story
Chapter 2: A Super Party Pony
Metal Tested swallowed hard, adjusting his chainmail tie as he stared into the smudged, cracked mirror of his dingy hotel room. His breakfast—a bowl of stale oats and a bruised apple—sat heavy in his stomach, but he ignored it. “You’ve got this, Metal,” he murmured, locking eyes with his reflection. “You’ve caught her eye. Rarity. The Element of Generosity. One of the biggest fashion designers in Equestria!”
His horn glowed faintly as he levitated a chainmail belt from his saddlebag, carefully fastening it around his waist. “She likes your work enough to feature it in her boutique. Her home base!” he said, the excitement flickering in his voice. “This is huge .” A broad, masculine bracelet followed the belt, buckling snugly around his right foreleg.
“You’re strong, smart, capable, and…” His voice faltered as he trailed off, studying his reflection. The corners of his mouth twitched into a wry smile. “...And maybe if I keep saying it enough, I’ll actually believe it,” he sighed.
He glanced over at the battered alarm clock on the nightstand. The hands ticked stubbornly toward eight o’clock. Rarity had told him eight, but arriving a little early wouldn’t hurt—it would show he was reliable, eager to work, and not the kind of stallion who wasted opportunities.
With a sharp exhale, Metal picked his saddlebags up in his mouth and swung them over his back, then double-checked the room for anything left behind. Satisfied, he headed for the door. Today could be the start of something new. Or a complete disaster. Either way, he couldn’t back out now.
Metal Tested kept his eyes downcast as he trotted through the quiet streets of Ponyville. It was a picturesque town, with colorful thatched-roof cottages mixed with new construction and cheerful ponies going about their morning routines. A few passed him with friendly nods or polite smiles; their warmth seemed genuine but Metal’s stomach seemed to find new and interesting directions to twist in with each new face. He forced himself to nod back, though his attempts at smiling felt more like grimaces.
It’s okay, Metal, he reminded himself, repeating the thought like a lifeline. You’re okay. Nopony’s going to say anything. Nopony knows. He gulped and lowered his gaze, focusing intently on the cobblestone road beneath his hooves. I hope.
The Carousel Boutique came into view as he rounded the corner, its ornate design standing out against the simple charm of the town. Arriving ten minutes early, Metal slowed his pace, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves. His mouth and throat felt like sandpaper, and he bit down lightly on his tongue, hoping it might kick-start some saliva. You’ve got this, he repeated over and over in his head. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.
Reaching the door, he raised a hoof to knock—but before he could land the first tap, the door swung wide, and he stumbled back just in time to avoid a blur of white and lavender barreling past him. “Shforry!” the slim adolescent filly called through a mouthful of toast, barely breaking stride as she galloped down the street, her school saddlebags bouncing on her back. Her curly lavender-and-pink mane and tail streamed behind her like banners.
The filly disappeared around the corner just as Metal heard Rarity call out from inside the boutique, her voice carrying a lilting note of concern. “Sweetie Belle! Are you sure you remembered your lunch?”
Metal barely had time to process the question before his new boss herself appeared in the doorway. Her expertly styled purple mane gleamed in the morning light, and her eyes lit up when she spotted him. “Oh, Metal Tested! You’re early!” she said, her surprise quickly melting into a warm smile. “And wearing your work, I see,” she added, her gaze flicking appreciatively to his tie and belt.
Metal Tested chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with a forehoof. “Yeah, well… my dad always said, ‘If you’re just on time, you’re late.’ I figured showing up a few minutes early wouldn’t hurt.”
Rarity smiled, her laugh light and melodic. “Your father sounds like a wise pony,” she said warmly. Her expression shifted as her gaze flicked toward the lane Sweetie Belle had disappeared down. “Oh dear, you weren’t put off by meeting Sweetie Belle, were you?” she asked, a note of concern in her voice.
Metal shook his head quickly, his cheeks warming. “You can barely call that a meeting,” he said, managing a shy smile. “I just stepped aside before she ran me over.”
Rarity chuckled again, the tension in her posture easing. “Yes, she was running dreadfully late for school this morning,” she explained. “I’ll introduce you properly another time, if that’s all right.”
“Uh, yeah, that’s fine,” Metal said, trying to keep his tone steady despite the knot tightening in his stomach. “I didn’t realize she lived with you, though.”
“She usually doesn’t,” Rarity said, turning back toward the boutique’s interior and gesturing for him to follow. “She had an argument with our parents last night and invited herself over for a few days.”
As Metal stepped inside, the doorbell chimed softly behind him. Rarity let out a small sigh, shaking her head as she led him further into the shop. “She helped me rearrange the storage closet into a work area for you, so at least she’s trying to be helpful. I don’t mind looking after her when our parents are out of town, but I do wish she didn’t see me as her go-to substitute whenever they argue. It wasn’t as though I had a parental stand-in at her age.”
“It just means she loves and looks up to you,” Metal Tested said, stepping fully inside and gently closing the door behind him. His gaze wandered across the boutique, taking in the elegant décor. “That’s more than I can say about me and my sister.”
Rarity’s ears perked up. “Oh, you didn’t mention you had a sister last night!” she said brightly, a smile lighting her face. “Older or younger?”
Metal winced inwardly, realizing his slip. “Two years older,” he admitted reluctantly. “She’s got her own family in Kenbucky now. We…” His voice trailed off as he looked away, his jaw tightening. “Let’s just say we aren’t close and leave it at that, okay?”
Rarity’s smile faltered, her eyes softening. “Oh… of course,” she said gently. She hesitated for only a moment before turning the conversation back to business. “Well then, why don’t we take a look at these?” She led him to the counter, where a few sheets of paper were spread out. Gesturing with a hoof, she explained, “I stayed up a bit late sketching some display ideas for your work. I’d love to hear your thoughts.”
Metal Tested let out a breath, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders as he followed Rarity to the counter. He leaned over the sketches, a genuine smile forming on his face. “These are really good,” he said, glancing at her with admiration. “I can barely draw a stick pony.”
“Really?” Rarity arched an elegant brow, her lips curving into a playful smile. “How do you plan out your designs, then?”
“Most of the time, I start with variations on patterns from my books,” Metal explained. “For the ones I make up myself, I figure them out in my head first, then experiment with the materials.” He tapped his temple with a forehoof. “Lots of trial and error and note-taking.”
Rarity shook her head, chuckling softly. “That sounds terribly inefficient.”
“It can be,” Metal admitted with a shrug. “But as long as I don’t weld the rings shut, I can usually reopen and reuse them if something doesn’t work out. It’s mostly about finding the right gauge-to-diameter ratio for the rings.”
“Ah, the fine art of chainmail!” Rarity said with a melodramatic flourish, then giggled. “I’m afraid I’ve never worked with jewelry myself, aside from accessorizing and adding gems and beads to some of my designs. But I would love to learn more about your craft when time allows. It sounds utterly fascinating.”
Metal smiled shyly, his eyes flicking to Rarity. “Well… I could teach you,” he offered, his voice quieter than he intended. “Or maybe just lend you my books if you’d rather start there.” Before she could respond, he coughed into his hoof and quickly turned his attention back to her sketches. “Um…anyway, I like this idea best,” he said, pointing to a detailed drawing of a double-sided window display. It featured a step pyramid-style stand to showcase smaller pieces, with a rotating base for easy viewing from all angles. Ponikin limbs and heads were sketched to model how other pieces were worn. “I’ve got my entire inventory here in my saddlebags. If we use that window”—he gestured toward the shopfront—“I think we can fit most of it.”
Rarity’s smile brightened, her eyes sparkling. “I think that will work beautifully, Metal,” she said warmly. “And I’m fairly certain I already have the materials we’ll need. If you’d like to start selecting which pieces to display first, I’ll fetch the display parts from storage.”
She turned and trotted toward the back room, humming a lilting tune that filled the air with effortless charm. Metal’s ears perked at the sound, his gaze drawn after her as she moved. He let himself linger for a moment, his eyes tracing the graceful sway of her hips and tail. As she disappeared through the doorway, he exhaled softly, a wistful sigh escaping before he could stop it.
Focus, Metal. Focus, he chided himself silently, shaking his head as he floated his saddlebags off his back and set them gently on the counter. With practiced precision, he unpacked his toolkit first: a few sets of bent-nose pliers in various sizes, neatly wrapped in cloth, along with a set of magnifying spectacles and a cloth tape measure. Next came a few well-worn books of chainmail patterns, their covers scuffed from years of use, followed by his supply of jump rings—too few for his liking, housed in a mismatched collection of clear jars labeled meticulously by metal, wire gauge and ring diameter.
Finally, he poured his inventory of completed pieces onto the counter, the soft clinking of metal filling the boutique like a delicate chime. Earrings mounted on their cardboard holders, bracelets, necklaces, anklets, belts, and even intricate headdresses—each piece was tagged with the name of its pattern, its size, and a price he’d have asked when selling them on the street. Metal worked methodically, sorting the pieces into neat groups, his magic flickering as he carefully examined each one to ensure it was ready for display.
Rarity soon returned, her telekinetic magic swirling in an ice-blue cloud as it carried an assortment of display materials behind her. Her melodic humming seemed to summon music into existence, filling the boutique with an enchanting rhythm as she rearranged the previous window display to make room for Metal Tested’s work. Without missing a beat, she began to sing, her voice light and confident.
“Sparkling links and glittering lights, Let’s make your work a dazzling sight! My fine new friend, so shy and sweet, We’ll make your chainmail jewels a treat!”
Metal Tested paused in his sorting, his ears perking as the music wormed its way into his heart. He watched Rarity work with a mix of awe and nervousness, the melody weaving its spell over him. Almost without thinking, he found himself murmuring his own lyrics, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I tread a path where shadows play, Afraid the light might drift away. What if I falter? What if I fail? Would you still see beauty in my tale?”
Rarity didn’t seem to notice his quiet contribution, focused as she finished arranging the display. With a satisfied nod, she trotted over to the counter to inspect the pieces Metal had laid out. Her eyes lit up at the variety: polished steel, contrasted with touches of other metals, their hues complementing each other beautifully. As Metal slid his work over to her, she continued singing, her magic deftly removing his hornwritten tags and replacing them with new ones in her own elegant hornwriting.
“A touch of grace, a hint of flair, We’ll show your talent, beyond compare! With every ring and every gleam, We’ll make your vision more than a dream!”
Metal glanced at the new prices she was assigning to his pieces and nearly dropped the bracelet he was holding. The lowest price was four times what he would have dared to charge on the street. His jaw hung open until Rarity caught his expression and gave him a playful wink, her magic sweeping the newly labeled jewelry into the air and setting each piece in its perfect place within the display.
Metal ran a hoof through his mane, watching Rarity with admiration. Her beauty, though undeniable, seemed almost secondary to the radiance of her generosity and passion. A quiet lyric formed in his mind, unspoken but undeniable.
You don’t know the fears that haunt me, The parts I hope you never see. But with your light and generosity, Perhaps there can still be hope for me…
As the morning sun streamed through the window, Rarity stepped back, her magic dimming as she turned to him with a radiant smile. She motioned to the display like a carnival hostess unveiling a prize, her voice ringing out in song.
“So let’s arrange! Let’s sparkle bright! We’ll make your work a true delight!”
Before Metal could stop himself, the music brought more words to his lips. His baritone, rough yet sincere, filled the boutique.
“Within this shop, I might believe, If I work hard, I just might achieve!”
As if drawn by the music, the two unicorns came together, grasping fetlocks as they spun in a simple, spontaneous dance. Rarity’s voice rose, her joy evident in every note.
“Together we’ll forge a vision so bright!”
Metal met her line with a smile, his voice gaining strength.
“With the magic of friendship, I’ll soar to new heights!”
Their voices twined together in harmony, rising in a soaring crescendo that filled the room.
“From colorful patterns to shining delight, We’ll craft a masterpiece of dreams taking flight!”
Their song ended as spontaneously as it began, the music fading into the stillness of the boutique. Their simple dance slowed, leaving them standing close together, gazing into each other’s eyes. For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them—until their horns accidentally brushed. A spark of magic leapt between the tips, a sharp crackle like a static shock on a cold day. “Oh!” Rarity gasped, pulling back instinctively. Both unicorns flushed, quickly releasing each other’s fetlocks and stepping away, their gazes darting anywhere but at each other.
Metal Tested cleared his throat, the awkward silence stretching until he finally ventured, “You, um… you have a beautiful voice.”
“Thank you,” Rarity replied, her smile softening into something tinged with a rare shyness. “Fluttershy and I sing in an amateur a cappella group called the Ponytones.”
Metal’s ears perked, and he nodded. “I remember reading about that in the Friendship Journal. How you helped Fluttershy overcome her stage fright.”
Rarity chuckled, her laugh carrying a hint of modesty. “Oh, yes, I nearly forgot we included that story in the Journal. Fluttershy was so brave to step out of her comfort zone—it was a proud moment for her.”
The brief tension between them eased as her eyes drifted toward the window display they’d just completed. “It seems we’re ready for the big premiere of your jewelry line,” she said, her voice filled with warmth and satisfaction.
“Y-yeah,” Metal Tested stammered, his gaze flicking between Rarity and the display. “It looks… it looks really good.” He hesitated, chewing on his lip before adding, “Are you sure ponies will pay the prices you marked?”
Rarity chuckled, her wry amusement softening the moment. “Darling, I did say you were undervaluing yourself,” she said with a knowing smile. “I’ve been doing this for quite some time, you know.” She tossed her mane with effortless grace before continuing, “Now, we still have a few minutes before the shop opens. Why don’t I show you your new workspace?”
“Um, sure,” Metal said, nodding quickly. His thoughts were a whirl of emotions as he gathered his toolkit, jump rings, and books, slipping them neatly into his saddlebags before draping the bags over his back. He kept his voice steady as he added, “Lead the way.”
As they ascended the stairs, Metal kept his eyes fixed on the steps ahead, deliberately avoiding the view of Rarity’s swishing tail and graceful stride. Keep it together, Metal, he scolded himself silently. This is Rarity. She probably has stallions hitting on her all the time. You’re just an employee.
It wasn’t just her beauty, he realized; it was the way she carried herself, the confidence and kindness that seemed to radiate from her. That, more than anything, was what made her feel so far out of reach. Letting out a quiet breath, Metal adjusted his saddlebags. Focus on the work.
“My personal quarters are through this door,” Rarity explained, motioning to a door just off the landing at the top of the stairs. “I don’t mind if you use the toilet while you’re here, but I do ask that you tidy up after yourself and respect my privacy otherwise.” She led him farther down the hallway to a door at the end, opening it with a flourish before stepping aside. “And this,” she announced, “is the storage room I mentioned.”
Metal stepped inside cautiously, taking in the space. A variety of ponikins and stacked boxes had been pushed to the edges of the room, leaving a clear path to a folding table set against the wall beneath a large window. A cushioned rolling work chair was tucked neatly beneath the table, and the window let in plenty of natural light, giving the space a warm, inviting glow despite the lingering dust.
“I hope you’ll forgive the clutter for now,” Rarity said, gesturing at the boxes and ponikins as she followed him inside. “We’ll find proper places for everything in time, but I thought you’d want to start working as soon as possible. If you’d like some background noise, I have a spare record player and a few albums you’re welcome to borrow.”
Metal surveyed the room in silent awe. He knew it was far from perfect—the cluttered corners and the thin layer of dust on nearly everything would soon make it feel cramped—but compared to what he was used to, it might as well have been a dream. For too long, his "workspaces" had been whatever semi-private shelter he could scrounge up: hotel rooms when he could afford them, abandoned buildings or alleyways when he couldn’t. Now, standing in this room with its dedicated table and comfortable chair, he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude.
“This is perfect, Rarity,” he said at last, turning to her with a bashful smile. “It feels like I’m going to spend the rest of my life saying ‘thank you’ now that I’ve met you.”
Rarity chuckled softly. “You’re quite welcome, Metal Tested,” she said warmly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—oh!” She stopped short, startled as she nearly stepped on her cat, Opalescence, who had appeared silently behind her. “Opal, darling, you really must learn to announce yourself,” Rarity said with a playful sigh, rubbing the cat’s ears with a forehoof. “This is Opalescence, by the way,” she added, glancing at Metal. “Don’t be offended if she takes a few meetings to—”
Rarity trailed off, blinking in surprise as Opal, having received her due affection from her mistress, padded over to Metal. The feline sniffed his outstretched hoof, then arched her back, rubbing her side against his leg before striding away with her nose and tail held snobbishly high.
“Well!” Rarity exclaimed, her tone a mixture of surprise and amusement. “That’s unexpected. Other than Fluttershy, Opal usually insists on ignoring new ponies until she’s seen them a few times.”
Metal rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish chuckle. “Animals tend to like me,” he said. “Not as much as Fluttershy, from what I’ve heard, but… well, growing up the way I did, with all the moving around, our pets were the most constant friends I had.” He glanced after Opal, watching her pause at the corner to groom herself with her usual air of feline superiority. “Is it true Fluttershy can actually talk to animals and understand them?”
Rarity nodded thoughtfully. “I know it sounds incredible, but I’ve seen her hold entire conversations with animals,” she said. “And the more time they spend with her, the more intelligent they seem to become—almost to the level of ponies.”
At this, Opalescence paused mid-lick and turned to glare at Rarity, her green eyes narrowing in irritation, before continuing out of Metal’s workroom and heading toward the stairs.
Metal chuckled softly, shaking his head in wonder. “That must be nice, always having someone to talk to. Our pets growing up were good listeners, but…well, not much for conversation.”
Rarity chuckled as well. “That’s how it is with most ponies, I suppose,” she said with a warm smile. “Still, Opal has given me some delightful inspiration over the years, just by being herself. Why, she even helped me spark a fad for paw-print patterns a few seasons ago.”
The faint chime of the boutique’s front bell reached their ears, and Rarity’s ears perked. “Oh, that must be the first customer of the day! If you’ll excuse me, darling.” She turned gracefully and trotted off, her voice calling a cheerful greeting as she descended the stairs.
Metal watched her go, letting out a small sigh before turning back to the worktable. He floated his tools, books, and jars of rings out of his saddlebags, setting each in its proper place with methodical precision. Satisfied with his arrangement, he set the bags aside, pulled on his glasses, and flipped open one of his reference books.
The jars of rings opened with soft clicks as he sorted through them, carefully selecting the right sizes and gauges. Within moments, the joy of creation consumed him. Using his telekinesis to guide the pliers, he opened the jump rings and wove them into intricate patterns, sealing the ends with a basic welding spell. The soft clink of metal on metal and the faint heat of his spell filled the room, accompanied by the clean, metallic scent of freshly fused steel.
Thankfully, the spell cooled the metal immediately, protecting the table beneath his work. The hours of practice and love for his craft showed in every movement, each ring falling perfectly into place as he lost himself in the rhythmic flow of his work.
Metal Tested lost track of time as he worked, the steady rhythm of his craft consuming him completely. When he finally set down his tools, he realized with some surprise that the sun had climbed from its early-morning position to high noon. A small pile of new bracelets, necklaces, and earrings lay neatly arranged on the table before him.
Stretching with a groan, Metal leaned back and pressed his forehooves against the small of his back to ease a kink. “I wonder how Rarity’s doing?” he mused aloud. A chuckle escaped him as he shook his head. “What am I talking about? She’s a successful designer. She’s probably putting up a shield over the door to keep from being swarmed by customers.” He smirked wryly, then muttered, “And now I’m talking to myself. Definitely time for a breather.”
Rising from his chair, Metal stretched again, this time with a full-body shake to loosen his muscles. He set his glasses carefully on the worktable before heading for the stairs leading down to the boutique.
While the Carousel Boutique wasn’t quite the frenzy Metal had half-jokingly envisioned, a steady stream of customers filled the space. He paused at the edge of the staircase, staying inconspicuously out of the way as he watched Rarity in action. She moved with practiced grace, seamlessly transitioning between assisting a preppy earth pony stallion selecting a sweater, an elegant pegasus mare shopping for a dress, and a black-clad unicorn mare who was examining the display of his jewelry. Other ponies browsed the racks of clothing, filling the boutique with quiet conversation and the occasional sound of hooves on the polished floor.
Metal’s eyes were drawn to Rarity again, and his heart skipped slightly when he noticed she was wearing the necklace he’d given her the previous night. The delicate chain caught the light perfectly against her coat, and the sight brought a genuine smile to his face. He felt a flicker of pride that something he had made was not only appreciated but also worn by somepony as remarkable as Rarity.
Noticing Metal lingering near the stair door, Rarity waved him over with a warm smile. Her encouraging expression gave him the confidence to take a steadying breath, square his shoulders, and walk toward her. Meeting new ponies might never be his favorite activity, but with Rarity as a social buffer and the focus on his craft, he could handle this.
“This is Metal Tested,” Rarity said, introducing him to the unicorn browsing the jewelry display as he approached. “He’s the talented artisan behind all these lovely pieces—and the one who gave me this darling necklace.”
Metal swallowed, his throat feeling dry despite his effort to stay composed. He nodded politely to the unicorn, who wore her black-and-purple mane styled in jagged, asymmetric waves. “Hello,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that many pieces were already missing from the display. The sight filled him with a mix of surprise and relief. Apparently, Rarity had been right about her ability to sell his work.
“Hey,” the unicorn replied, her tone flat and disinterested. She levitated a Byzantrot-weave bracelet with her magic, turning it over as she examined the intricate pattern. “So, could you make something like this, but, like, in a web design?” She glanced up at him, her expression thoughtful but still neutral. “I’m thinking of a necklace that spreads out over my shoulders.”
Metal Tested swallowed hard, glancing at Rarity for reassurance. She nodded encouragingly, her smile giving him the confidence to soldier on. “W-Well,” he began, his voice slightly unsteady, “what you’re describing is called a mantle. I don’t have anything like that on-hoof right now, but I can make one on commission. I’d just need some measurements of your neck and shoulders.” He paused, doing a quick mental calculation before continuing. “A piece like that would probably only take a few hours to build. I should have it ready by tomorrow… the day after at the latest.”
The emo mare gave a small nod. “Okay. How much would it cost?”
Metal hesitated, his confidence faltering as his eyes flicked between Rarity and the customer. Before he could stumble through an answer, Rarity smoothly stepped in, her tone effortlessly professional. “All of Metal Tested’s work is very reasonably priced, darling,” she said warmly, floating a cloth tape measure, notepad, and pencil over from their place by the cash register.
Rarity gestured for the mare to stand still and began measuring around her neck and shoulders with practiced ease. “Considering the quality of the work,” she continued, “as well as the exclusivity of a custom piece tailored to your specific measurements, I’m sure you’ll find two hundred bits to be quite a bargain.” As she spoke, she jotted the measurements neatly onto the notepad with her telekinesis. “Payment, of course, would only be due upon delivery.”
Metal’s eyes widened in shock. Even on his best day, the most he’d ever dared to charge for a piece like the one described was forty bits. He froze, feeling his legs tremble beneath him. When the emo mare simply nodded and said, “Okay,” with the same flat tone as before, he nearly staggered. Leaning subtly against the wall for support, he fought to keep his jaw from dropping open like a character in a slapstick comedy.
Rarity and the emo mare soon concluded their arrangements, and the customer wandered out of the store, her new commission secured. Noticing Metal Tested still leaning against the wall, Rarity approached with a warm, encouraging smile. She tore the page from her notepad and floated it over to him with her magic. “You see, Metal?” she said softly. “I told you your work would resonate with others.”
Metal took the slip of paper, holding it in his fetlock as he read the measurements Rarity had noted. “Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter as he processed the moment. A small smile crept onto his face as he glanced up at her. “Yeah, I guess you were right.” His gaze flicked to the display, now noticeably lighter than when Rarity first set it up. “Looks like you’ve already sold a bunch of my work,” he added, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hoof. “I have more finished pieces upstairs. We should probably sit down later and figure out a price chart. That way, I can label them and restock as I go.”
Rarity nodded, her expression thoughtful. “We will,” she said. “But for now, I think letting the display dwindle little by little will create a sense of scarcity. That always helps drive demand.”
Metal Tested nodded, shifting the emo mare’s measurements from his fetlock to his telekinesis. “I’ll trust you on that,” he said, glancing around at the remaining customers. “Guess I better get back to—”
“Hey, Rarity!” a high, bubbly voice chirped from the door. Metal turned to see a pink earth pony mare bouncing into the shop, her energy practically radiating off her in waves. He recognized her instantly from the Friendship Journal: Pinkie Pie. Her curly, cotton-candy-like mane and tail bounced along with her, matching the spring in her step, and her wide blue eyes sparkled with excitement.
Pinkie was slightly heavier than most mares Metal had met, with a soft roundness that spoke to her obvious love of sweets, but she carried it well. There was an undeniable charm to the way her cheerful demeanor lit up the room, her infectious energy drawing every eye—even his. She practically glowed with a confident, carefree beauty that was hard to ignore.
Pinkie bounded straight over to Rarity and Metal, speaking so quickly it was nearly impossible to keep up. “I was just bouncing by, and I saw that new jewelry display, and I thought it was really, really pretty! Then I saw you talking to this guy, and I thought, ‘Hey, I don’t know him!’ And I try to know everypony in town—even though Ponyville’s getting bigger—so that means he must be new! And then I thought, ‘Hey, if Rarity’s made a new friend, maybe he’ll wanna make more friends!’ And everypony knows the best way to make new friends is with a party, sooo—!”
“Pinkie, wait—” Rarity tried to interject, but it was too late.
From behind a nearby ponikin, Pinkie pulled out a cannon. Metal’s eyes widened as the absurdly large device seemed to materialize from thin air. Before he could fully process what was happening, Pinkie yanked the fuse with a gleeful grin.
BOOM!
The Carousel Boutique exploded into chaos—or rather, Pinkie’s brand of carefully orchestrated chaos. Streamers, balloons, and confetti rained down in a vibrant cascade, while trays of snacks, a punch bowl, and neatly arranged cups appeared on the counter as if by magic. The other customers glanced around, startled and bemused by the abrupt transformation of the boutique into an impromptu party venue.
Pinkie didn’t miss a beat. She launched into a lively dance as ragtime piano music filled the room, seemingly from nowhere.
“Welcome to Ponyville! We’re glad to have you here! You’re sure to make a bunch of friends To fill your days with cheer—!”
“Pinkie Pie!” Rarity called sharply, grabbing a cupcake from the snack tray with her telekinesis and shoving it into Pinkie’s mouth. It was a drastic move, but experience had taught her that once Pinkie truly got on a roll, stopping her would require nothing short of a monster crashing through the wall. At least she was confident the cupcake would be delicious, given Pinkie’s own baking skills.
“Mmf!?” Pinkie mumbled, blinking in surprise. Of course, she could swallow far larger confections whole, but Rarity had caught her off guard. Besides, the cupcake was delicious . “Mwhaf?” she mumbled again, trying to chew and talk at the same time.
Rarity put a hoof to Pinkie’s chin, gently turning her head toward the impromptu party’s guest of honor. Metal Tested had backed into a corner near the jewelry display, trembling. His ears were pinned back, teeth chattering audibly, and his wide, darting eyes betrayed the sheer terror overtaking him. The paper with the emo mare’s mantle measurements lay forgotten on the floor. Before Rarity or Pinkie could react, he lowered his head in a sudden burst of panic and bolted for the door to the upstairs, disappearing through it like a shadow fleeing the light.
Rarity sighed, shaking her head in exasperation. She glanced back at Pinkie, who was now swallowing the last of the cupcake, looking confused and slightly contrite. “Pinkie, dear, your parties are always a delight,” Rarity said softly, her tone firm but kind, “but your timing could use a touch more refinement.”
Lowering her hoof, she turned smoothly to address the boutique’s customers, projecting her practiced charm. “Fillies and gentlecolts, thank you for joining us to celebrate the launch of the Tested Treasures line of hornmade jewelry,” she said, her voice carrying easily across the room. “Please, enjoy the party to your heart’s content. I will return in a few moments.” With that, she floated the slip of paper off the floor and followed Metal Tested through the door upstairs, her steps quick but measured.
Upstairs in Metal Tested’s workroom, Rarity found him curled up on the floor beneath his worktable, his chair shoved aside to make room in the cramped space. His coat was lathered with sweat as though he’d galloped for miles, and his telekinesis shakily held a paper bag to his muzzle as he took deep, uneven breaths. Tears streaked his cheeks, glistening in the dim light. When he glanced up at her standing in the doorway, shame flickered across his face, and he quickly looked away. “I-I’m sorry…” he murmured, his voice muffled slightly by the bag. He squeezed his eyes shut, as though bracing for reproach.
Rarity shook her head softly, stepping into the room. She approached slowly, lowering herself to the floor near him—not so close as to crowd him, but close enough to offer her comforting presence. “Metal, darling, you have nothing to apologize for,” she said gently. Her magic floated the slip of paper with the emo mare’s measurements onto the worktable, and she nudged the door almost shut to give them a measure of privacy. “Everypony has their limits, and Pinkie Pie, for all her good intentions, can be… overwhelming if one isn’t prepared.”
Metal shuddered, shaking his head as his breath hitched. “B-but, so many… if they found out…” he whispered hoarsely, his voice breaking with suppressed emotion. “I feel so weak…”
Rarity’s gaze softened further, her heart aching for him. “Found out what, dear?” she asked, her tone steady and warm. “That you’re a sensitive, caring stallion who prefers intimate settings over grand spectacles?”
Metal flinched slightly as Rarity reached out to rest a hoof on his shoulder, but he didn’t pull away. Gradually, his trembling eased as he allowed the gesture of support.
“That’s no shameful secret, nor is it a weakness,” Rarity continued, her voice calm but resolute. “Your personality reminds me greatly of Fluttershy, and she’s one of the strongest ponies I know. She dislikes being the center of attention as well, except when she’s teaching at the school or singing with the Ponytones. But it was her strength—her gentleness—that allowed her to befriend Discord, even when the rest of us believed him beyond redemption.”
She gave his shoulder a light, reassuring squeeze with her fetlock, offering a small, kind smile. “You strike me as a pony of depth and complexity, Metal Tested. Those are traits to be proud of, not ashamed.”
Metal Tested shook his head faintly, though his tense posture began to ease little by little as Rarity’s comforting words washed over him. Slowly, he lowered the paper bag from his muzzle, managing a few deep, shuddering breaths on his own. “Thank you, Rarity… again,” he murmured, his voice raw but steadying. “Like you said last night, just coming here was a big leap for me, and…” He hesitated, glancing at her with watery eyes. “I’m trying to work through a cartload of issues. Things I don’t like talking about. Things I’m not proud of.”
Rarity’s smile softened, full of understanding. “Metal, darling, I’ve yet to meet anypony who’s never made a mistake,” she said gently. “And if you ever change your mind about talking, you can always come to me.”
The corners of Metal’s mouth quirked into a weak but genuine smile. “Okay,” he said after a moment, his breathing continuing to steady. A flicker of curiosity crossed his face, and he added, “Where did she even pull that party cannon from? And all those snacks and decorations?”
Rarity chuckled softly, her melodic laugh filling the small space. “Oh, darling, I stopped asking that years ago,” she replied with a playful roll of her eyes. “It’s just Pinkie Pie.” Her smile turned wry, and she added, “Though I do hope she remembered to bring her party vacuum as well. Otherwise, it will take weeks to get all that confetti out of everything.”
The quiet intimacy of the moment was interrupted by a soft knock on the door, followed by Pinkie Pie carefully poking her head in. “Hi,” she said in an unusually subdued voice, stepping into the room but staying close to the doorway. Her bubbly energy was noticeably muted, and her tone was soft and measured, making her words easier to follow.
“I’m Pinkie Pie,” she began, her ears folding slightly. “I just wanted to say I’m really, really, really sorry for scaring you. I just wanted to help you feel welcome and make friends, but I should’ve remembered that not everypony likes surprises.” She gave him a small, apologetic smile. “I brought you some apology cupcakes.” Reaching into her mane, she pulled out a tray of cupcakes far too large to have possibly been concealed there. Each cupcake was frosted with a single letter, spelling out I’M SORRY in bright, cheerful icing.
Metal Tested couldn’t help it; a weak chuckle escaped him, and a hint of a smile crossed his face. “It’s okay, Ms. Pie,” he said quietly. “You didn’t know. I’m just… not much of a party pony—not like you and your friend Cheese Sandwich.”
Pinkie’s ears perked at that, and her remorseful expression brightened. “Oh, you know Cheese?” she asked, balancing the cupcake tray on her head as she took a few tentative steps into the room.
Metal shook his head. “Not personally,” he replied. “I read about your Goof-Off in the Friendship Journal, and I’ve seen a few things in the newspapers about his gag company.”
He glanced at the cupcakes again, the humorous contrast between their message and the presentation tugging his smile a little wider. Taking the tray with his telekinesis, he turned to Rarity. “Rarity, could you let me out?”
Seeing that Metal seemed more composed and ready for social interaction, Rarity rose gracefully to her hooves and stepped aside, giving him space to crawl out from under the worktable. Once he was upright, she smiled warmly and gestured toward Pinkie. “Pinkie Pie, I’d like you to meet Metal Tested,” she said. “He’s the artisan behind the new jewelry in the window display you admired. Metal Tested, I believe you’ve read about Pinkie Pie.”
“Nice ta meetcha!” Pinkie chirped, bouncing over with her customary grin back in place. Her exuberance was as infectious as ever, but the softness in her eyes suggested she was still keeping Metal’s earlier reaction in mind. “Your jewelry’s really, really pretty! But of course it would be, because Rarity only sells really, really pretty stuff. I mean, you probably already knew that if you work here now, but still—wow!”
Metal blinked at the rapid-fire compliment, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks,” he said simply, floating the cupcake tray to his worktable. He paused, inspecting the cupcakes with curiosity before glancing back at Pinkie. “Um… how did you even keep these in your mane? I mean, there’s no hair or anything on them.”
Pinkie burst into laughter, as if the question itself were ridiculous. “Well, duh, silly! Who’d want to eat cupcakes that had hair on them?”
“She does make a valid point, Metal,” Rarity interjected, her voice tinged with wry amusement. She’d long since learned to accept Pinkie’s unique brand of party magic with an air of bemused resignation.
Metal Tested chuckled, his smile growing. “Yeah, I guess she does,” he said, nodding. Picking up three cupcakes in his telekinesis, he floated two over to Rarity and Pinkie Pie. “Here—you two have some.”
“Why, thank you, Metal,” Rarity said warmly, taking the offered cupcake in her own telekinesis. She took a delicate, ladylike nibble, her expression lighting up with pleasure. “Delightful, as always, Pinkie.”
“Yeah, thanks!” Pinkie chirped, popping her cupcake into her mouth in one enthusiastic gulp.
Metal took a bite of his own and let out a pleased “Mmmm.” He savored the flavor before saying, “This is incredible, Ms. Pie. I mean, I read that you’re a great baker, but there’s a difference between reading about it and actually experiencing it.” His gaze flicked to the tray still on the table. “Um… was there a specific reason you just happened to have these on-hoof?”
“Oh, I always keep a few cupcake trays for emergencies!” Pinkie said brightly. “There’s the apology tray, the accident tray, the surprise-visit-from-a-relative tray…” She giggled, her mane bouncing. “Being a good party pony means always being prepared! And just call me Pinkie—‘Ms. Pie’ makes me sound like an old lady.”
“Okay, Pinkie,” Metal said with a small laugh. He hesitated for a moment, then glanced at Rarity before turning back to Pinkie. “Um… while you’re here, could you sign this for me?” He floated his well-worn copy of the Friendship Journal out of his saddlebags, along with a pen.
“Sure!” Pinkie said eagerly. She grabbed the book in her forehooves and the pen in the prehensile curl of her mane. Metal blinked, startled by the bizarre sight, but said nothing as Pinkie flipped the book open to the title page. In a matter of seconds, she had scrawled out a cheerful message and passed the book back to him with a wide grin. “Here ya go!”
“What the… how did…” Metal Tested trailed off, staring at the pen and book now neatly returned to his hooves by Pinkie’s prehensile curl of mane. He shook his head, a mix of amazement and bewilderment crossing his face.
Rarity chuckled softly, clearly amused by his reaction. “Like I said, dear—it’s Pinkie Pie,” she said with a warm smile. “Though I suppose we never thought to include that particular creative use of her hair in the journal.”
Metal shook his head again, this time with a small laugh. “Yeah. I guess I’ll just have to get used to learning more about you all if I’m actually getting to know you.” He opened the Friendship Journal to the title page, where Pinkie had signed her message, and read aloud:
“Dear Metal Tested—Sorry again for scaring you! I hope you have lots of fun working for Rarity. Keep on laughing! - Pinkie Pie. ”
The message was punctuated with a cheerful monogram of her cutie mark, just as Rarity had added to her own signature. Metal smiled as he closed the book. “Thanks, Pinkie. This really means a lot to me.”
“You’re welcome!” Pinkie chirped, her grin as wide as ever. “I gotta get back to Sugarcube Corner now. Have a great day!” She gave them both a cheerful wave before bouncing out of the workroom and heading down the stairs.
Metal Tested and Rarity watched as Pinkie Pie bounced her way downstairs. Metal shook his head, letting out a small laugh. “She’s, um… she’s really something,” he said. “Reading about her doesn’t really prepare you for the experience.”
Rarity chuckled softly. “You are far from the first pony to think so, darling,” she replied with a knowing smile. Her tone shifted slightly as she added, “I do need to get back to the sales floor, though. Are you alright after… earlier?”
Metal nodded, his expression thoughtful but steady. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. I should get back to work, too.”
“Very well,” Rarity said with a gentle nod. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” She turned and headed for the door but paused to glance back over her shoulder, offering him a final, encouraging smile before disappearing down the stairs.
Metal sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned back to his worktable. His gaze fell on the slip of paper with the emo pony’s measurements, and he couldn’t help but smile at Rarity’s thoughtfulness and meticulous care. “Hoof,” he murmured to himself, giving his cheeks a light tap with his hooves. “Alright, Metal. Let’s get busy.”
Settling into his work chair, he donned his magnifiers and levitated his pliers into position with his telekinesis. He took a calming breath, letting the steady rhythm of his craft wash over him as he began weaving the intricate pattern for his first commission.
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Chained Hearts - A Love Story
Chapter 3: A Little Sister, Crippling Doubts and a Loan
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, bathing the room in the warm hues of late afternoon, Metal Tested stretched in his chair. Despite years of experience reminding him otherwise, he still had a tendency to hunch over his work, and his neck and shoulders were now protesting the oversight. He rolled his shoulders with a groan, glancing over at the now-empty cupcake tray. A soft chuckle escaped him—he’d been so engrossed in his work that he hadn’t even realized he was snacking on Pinkie Pie’s cupcakes. Then again, considering how delicious the one he’d eaten earlier had been, it wasn’t much of a surprise.
Turning back to the worktable, Metal picked up his tape measure and double-checked the measurements for the mantle he’d been crafting. He nodded in satisfaction as his gaze swept over the piece laid out before him. As the emo mare had described, the design featured a web-like body that draped elegantly over the shoulders, anchored by an outer ring. The inner ring, simple yet functional, fastened around the neck with a toggle clasp, much like a choker necklace.
The bright steel caught the fading sunlight, glinting brilliantly against the backdrop of his tools and materials. He imagined it paired with the dark clothing the mare seemed to favor, the contrast drawing attention to the intricate pattern he’d spent the afternoon weaving. The thought brought a small, proud smile to his face as he set the tape measure back on the table.
Lifting the mantle in his telekinesis, Metal Tested studied it with quiet admiration. The smooth, interwoven steel rings gleamed in the late afternoon light, but what truly struck him was the difference a single day had made. By his quick estimate, the jump rings for this piece had cost him about ten bits. Before meeting Rarity, he’d have hesitated to charge more than thirty or forty bits for such a large but relatively simple design—barely enough to cover costs, let alone feed and shelter himself. More often than not, he’d let customers haggle him down further, leaving his profits razor-thin.
Now, though, things were different. With the price Rarity had negotiated, the mantle was set to sell for two hundred bits. Two hundred. Subtracting the cost of materials, that meant a profit of one hundred-ninety bits. Even after splitting it evenly with Rarity, he’d still walk away with ninety-five bits—more than three times the best profit he could have made selling it on the street.
Metal let out a soft laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Metal,” he murmured to himself, “you just might have arrived.”
Setting the mantle carefully aside, he removed his glasses and rose from his chair, stretching until his joints popped. It had been a while since he’d put in a full day working on his chainmail. Before meeting Rarity, a day like today would have looked very different. Most mornings, he would rise early to hunt for day-labor jobs, which usually paid just enough for a cheap meal and a hotel room for the night, squirreling away any extra bits for jump rings. On bad days, when there was no work to be found, he’d try to sell his jewelry on the street—or resort to outright begging.
Metal sighed, his thoughts lingering on how far he’d come in just a short time. Working in a dedicated space, with fair prices for his craft and a steady partnership, felt like a life he’d never dared to imagine.
Sometimes, he hadn’t been able to scrape together enough bits to cover even the basics. There had been countless nights when raw grass became his only sustenance, grazing directly from the ground just to save enough for shelter and supplies. Worse still were the few times he’d resorted to theft when he couldn’t face another night of hunger gnawing at his belly. The move to Ponyville—his gamble to sell his work to tourists—had been the result of over a year of scrimping and saving, honing his craft, and enduring too many hungry nights.
If only he hadn’t...
Metal shook his head sharply, forcing the thought away before it could take root. Now’s not the time to dwell on that. He focused on the present, carefully wrapping the completed jewelry in a spare cloth. The makeshift bag floated alongside him in his telekinesis as he headed downstairs to the boutique.
The shop was quiet now, devoid of customers, and the colorful remnants of Pinkie’s impromptu party had been tidied away. Behind the sales counter, Rarity stood with her reading glasses perched delicately on her muzzle, poring over an account ledger. She glanced up at the sound of Metal’s hooves descending the stairs, her expression brightening as she met his gaze. “Good afternoon, Metal Tested,” she said warmly.
“Hi, Rarity,” he replied with a small smile, setting the cloth pouch of jewelry on the counter. “I finished that mare’s commission, and I’ve got the rest of today’s work in here, too.”
“Thank you, dear,” Rarity said with a nod, sliding the ledger aside and opening the pouch. Her eyes lit up as she examined the contents, levitating the mantle and a few bracelets with her magic. “These look marvelous,” she said, admiration clear in her voice.
“I’m glad you think so,” Metal said, his smile widening slightly. Her praise meant more to him than he cared to admit.
Rarity carefully set the pieces down and adjusted her glasses. “I’ll be closing up in a few minutes to work on lesson plans for my classes at the School of Friendship,” she said. “The shop will be closed tomorrow while I teach, but we can sit down tomorrow evening and work out that price list. How did you price your work before?”
Metal shrugged, using his hooves and telekinesis to sort the remaining pieces by weave and type. “I’d time myself and base my prices on how long each piece took, on average, along with how complicated the weave. Anywhere between a quarter-bit and a bit per minute.”
Rarity’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. “Did that method yield you much profit?”
Metal snorted softly, an ironic smile tugging at his lips. “It did when ponies actually paid the prices I asked,” he said with a sigh. “But I let ponies haggle me down a lot. Never to the point of selling at a loss, but…” He hesitated, shrugging again. “Enough that it wasn’t sustainable in the long run.”
“I see,” Rarity said, her tone calm but understanding. She turned the ledger she’d been working on so that it faced Metal. “This is the inventory I made of your work in the display, along with the prices I marked them at and the pieces I’ve sold. If you’ll note how much your materials cost and how long each one took to make, we’ll calculate the profits properly and split them fairly.”
“Okay,” Metal said, nodding as he pulled the ledger toward him. Picking up a pen in his telekinesis, he scanned the detailed notes Rarity had made. For a moment, a darker part of his mind—born of too many betrayals and false friends—whispered the temptation to inflate his costs.
A small scowl crept onto his face as he shook his head firmly, banishing the thought. Rarity had been nothing but generous and supportive; to cheat her in any way would be inexcusable. The fact that the idea had even crossed his mind left him feeling small, petty and unclean. With a deep breath, he focused on the ledger, determined to approach the task with honesty.
The jingle of the bell above the boutique door broke his concentration. A high, musical voice rang out behind him. “Ugh! Ms. Cheerilee gave us so much homework today!”
Metal glanced over his shoulder just as the adolescent unicorn from that morning—Rarity’s sister, Sweetie Belle—stepped inside. Her saddlebags slid off her back with a dull thud as she flopped dramatically onto Rarity’s fainting couch. Her face disappeared into a throw pillow as she groaned theatrically. “I’m going to die from all this homework!” Now that he got a better look at her, Metal estimated her age at around thirteen or fourteen, similar to Diamond Tiara from last night.
“You’ll be glad for the effort she puts into educating you one day, Sweetie Belle,” Rarity said with amused resignation, her tone carrying the patience of an older sister well-versed in such dramatics. “How are your friends?”
Sweetie Belle perked up slightly, sitting straighter on the fainting couch. “They’re fine,” she said. “Silver Spoon was talking about this new coltfriend she says she has, but she was really cagey about the details.”
As she spoke, Metal Tested subtly shifted, edging around the counter to place it between himself and the filly. Sweetie Belle blinked, noticing him for the first time. Her expression brightened with curiosity. “Hi! Sorry, I didn’t notice you before,” she said cheerfully. Hopping off the couch, she trotted over and extended a forehoof in greeting.
“That’s okay,” Metal replied, nodding stiffly as he fought to keep his voice steady. His eyes flicked toward her hoof, hesitating before glancing at Rarity with a pleading look. “I’m Metal Tested.”
Rarity, quick to notice his discomfort, intervened smoothly. “He’s the talented artisan who created the jewelry in our new window display,” she said with a warm smile for both of them. “And he’s a little shy, so please be patient with him. Metal, this is Sweetie Belle, my little sister.”
Sweetie Belle nodded, lowering her hoof without offense. “Oh, okay.” Her head tilted slightly. “Metal Tested? That’s kind of a funny name.”
“Sweetie Belle!” Rarity admonished, her tone sharp but not harsh.
To his own surprise, Metal chuckled, the unexpected humor easing some of his tension. “It’s fine,” he said, his voice lighter as he looked back at Sweetie Belle. “It’s from a saying my dad liked: ‘Never trust a knight in shining armor, because his metal has never been tested.’”
It took the sisters a moment to understand the pun, but then they chuckled together. “I suppose there’s a certain amount of truth to that,” Rarity mused with a wry smile. “But I’d be cautious about repeating it in front of Twilight Sparkle.”
“You never know,” Sweetie Belle added with a giggle. “She and Shining Armor might actually think it’s funny!”
Metal Tested blushed faintly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I remember reading about Princess Twilight’s brother,” he said. “My dad… he had a lot of sayings he liked to pull out when the mood hit him.” His voice softened as he spoke of his father, and his expression fell slightly. Glancing away from the sisters, he busied himself with the account ledger Rarity had given him, his focus visibly shifting.
Rarity frowned thoughtfully, studying him with quiet concern. “You speak of your father in the past tense,” she observed gently. “Has it been long since he… passed?”
Metal shook his head, his eyes remaining on the ledger. “He’s still alive, last I heard,” he murmured. “I… well, I’m not close with any of my family.” He hesitated before glancing briefly at Rarity. “It’s complicated. I know I keep saying that about a lot of things in my life, but that’s just how it is.”
“That’s terrible!” Sweetie Belle exclaimed, her youthful indignation cutting through the room. “Not even knowing if your own dad’s alive? Family’s supposed to be there for you, no matter what!”
“Sweetie Belle, enough,” Rarity said firmly but gently, her eyes flicking between her sister and Metal.
“It’s okay, Rarity,” Metal interjected, managing a small, sad smile. “I’ve always wished I was closer to my family. It’s just… not how life worked out for me.” He cleared his throat, shifting his hooves awkwardly as if trying to brush the subject aside. Using his telekinesis, he slid the ledger back across the counter toward Rarity. “I’ve marked the material costs and the build times, like you said.”
“Thank you, Metal,” Rarity said, taking the ledger back in her telekinesis. She glanced at her sister. “Sweetie Belle, if you’ll excuse us, Metal Tested and I have some business to conclude for the day. I’ll help you with your homework afterward, if you need it.”
“That’s okay, sis,” Sweetie Belle replied brightly. “The Crusaders and I have a cutie mark consultation soon. I’ll do my homework with them after our appointment.” She floated her saddlebags onto her back with her magic and gave Metal a friendly smile. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Tested.”
“You too, Sweetie Belle,” Metal replied, smiling back as she trotted toward the door. As the bell jingled with her departure, he let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head slightly. He glanced at Rarity. “Your sister seems like a sweet filly,” he said. “She must be the most popular in her class.”
Rarity chuckled softly, her smile touched with fondness. “She’d like to think so, I’m sure,” she said as she turned her attention to the ledger, reviewing Metal’s notations. “She and her friends formed a club called the Cutie Mark Crusaders back when they were working to earn their own cutie marks. Eventually, they discovered their special talent was helping other ponies understand theirs. Now, they consult with ponies who are unsure of their marks’ meanings and even run a day camp for blank flanks in the summer.” She paused, her expression softening. “They’ve even talked about wanting to be teachers at the School of Friendship when they grow up.”
“Yeah, I remember reading about the Cutie Mark Crusaders in the Journal,” Metal said with a nod. “It sounds like she’s got everything figured out already. You must be proud of her.”
“Yes, I am,” Rarity said with a nod, her gaze lingering on Metal. After a brief pause, she added gently, “Forgive me for asking, Metal, but… what caused the rift between you and your family?”
Metal sighed, his eyes shifting away as he ran a hoof through his mane. “A lot of things,” he admitted quietly. “Some of it… a lot of it… is my fault. But the roots go back a long way.” He shook his head, his voice lowering. “I’m really not comfortable talking about it. Not yet.”
Rarity’s expression flickered with disappointment, but it quickly softened into understanding. “Very well,” she said kindly, letting the subject drop. She opened the cash register, her magic sorting through coins, scrip, and gems. “I don’t mean to push, dear. I’d simply like to know more about you.”
Metal smiled faintly. “I understand,” he said. “I just need time.”
“There’s no need to apologize, Metal,” Rarity replied, shaking her head as she jotted down figures on a piece of paper. “Take all the time you need.” Once finished, she slid the paper across the counter toward him. “Here you are. Feel free to double-check my math.”
Metal glanced at the paper, and his eyes widened almost comically. “This… this can’t be right,” he stammered, staring at the total.
“Really? Where did I make a mistake?” Rarity asked, leaning closer to peer at the paper with him.
Metal flinched slightly as her mane brushed against his cheek, the warmth of her slender body close to his and the soft hint of her perfume making him acutely self-conscious. His words came out hastily, trying to cover his nervousness. “I just… your math says my share after costs is almost five hundred bits,” he managed. “Did my work really sell that well?”
Rarity chuckled kindly. “It seems we both keep repeating ourselves, Metal Tested,” she said, her tone light but warm. “You were vastly undervaluing yourself.” With a gentle push of her magic, she slid the pile of coins, scrip, and gems toward him. “Here. Much of this is due to the excitement of a new release, so not every day will be quite like this. But it’s a promising sign, especially with tourist season just around the corner.”
Metal hesitated, swallowing nervously as his gaze flicked between Rarity and the pile of money. His forehoof hovered uncertainly before he finally pulled the earnings closer. “I… I really don’t know what to say,” he murmured. “Thank you… again.”
“There’s nothing to thank me for this time,” Rarity said with a gentle shake of her head. “I’m simply glad to help bring your dream to life.”
“Yeah…” Metal nodded slowly, his eyes dropping to the counter. “Sorry, I just…” He paused, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “Good things haven’t happened to me in… a really long time. It still doesn’t… doesn’t feel real.” His voice cracked, and suddenly he turned away, blinking rapidly. “I’m sorry, I…” His legs wobbled as he sank down to the floor, his breathing uneven.
“Metal, darling!” Rarity exclaimed, her voice laced with surprise and concern. She stepped closer, placing a comforting hoof on his shoulder. “Whatever is the matter?”
Metal shook his head, his forehooves pressing against his eyes as he forced himself to take deep, deliberate breaths. “Nothing…” he managed. “Nothing is wrong, Rarity.” He lowered his hooves and glanced back at her, his expression raw. Gently, he placed a hoof over hers on his shoulder. “That’s what’s wrong.”
Rarity blinked, her brow furrowing in concern. “I don’t understand,” she said softly. “How can nothing being wrong… be what’s wrong?”
“It’s… everything,” Metal said, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked away again, though his hoof remained over Rarity’s. “This… all of this… it’s so great, and I…” He sighed, his head drooping. “My dad used to say, ‘A chain is only as strong as its weakest link.’ And right now, I feel like the weak link… like I don’t deserve any of this.”
Rarity’s expression hardened with determination. “Now, you listen to me, Metal Tested,” she said firmly, marching around to stand directly in front of him. Her hoof reached out, gently but resolutely lifting his chin so their eyes met. “I can see that you’re struggling. I can see that you’re feeling overwhelmed. Believe me, I’ve had moments like that myself; I think every successful pony does at times. But I want you to understand one thing, and I want you to keep it firmly in mind: You earned this.”
Her gaze was unwavering, sapphire locking onto metallic blue. “You’ve spent years chasing this dream. You’ve endured homelessness and hardships that would have sent me running back to my parents if I’d had to face them. But you didn’t give up. You persevered. And now, you’re here. You. Are. Worthy.”
Rarity paused, letting her words settle into the silence between them. Her hoof slipped from his chin to his shoulder, offering steady support. “Now,” she said softly but firmly, “I want to hear you say it: I am worthy. ”
Metal stared at her, the weight of her words pressing down on him in the best possible way. He took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded slowly. “I am worthy,” he murmured, the words coming out haltingly. A bitter chuckle followed as he shook his head and forced himself back up on his hooves. “I try telling myself things like that every morning. I just… I have a hard time believing it.”
“Well, if you don’t believe it yet, keep in mind that I do,” Rarity said softly, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “We all need the support of our friends from time to time.”
“Yeah…” Metal Tested nodded, his voice still quiet. He hesitated before asking, “Rarity… would it be okay if I gave you a hug?”
Rarity’s expression softened, her smile warm and fond. Instead of replying, she stepped forward and wrapped her forelegs around him in a gentle embrace. Metal stiffened for just a moment before his forelegs tentatively encircled her in return. Slowly, he relaxed, leaning into the hug. His cheek brushed against her soft mane, and he couldn’t help inhaling her scent—floral perfume mingling with something subtler, uniquely her.
It had been so long since he’d been this physically close to another pony, especially a mare. The simple warmth of being held, the quiet comfort of another’s presence, felt almost overwhelming. He closed his eyes, letting himself sink into the moment.
After a few moments, Rarity gave him a light pat on the back and pulled away gently, her smile still in place. “There, now,” she said. “Feeling better?”
Metal nodded, rubbing his eyes with a forehoof before taking a deep breath. “Yeah,” he said, his voice steadier. He gave his body a quick shake, as if resetting himself. “Okay. Yeah, I’m cool. I’m fine.”
His gaze shifted back to the pile of money on the counter, and his expression turned thoughtful. Running a hoof through his mane, he murmured, “This is more money than I’ve seen at once in… a really long time.”
“Well, use some of it to treat yourself,” Rarity advised, standing and crossing back to her ledgers to continue entering the day’s receipts. As she worked, her tone grew curious. “By the way, do you mind if I ask where you’re staying at the moment?”
“The Trotting Trough Inn, on the edge of town,” Metal replied, his horn glowing softly as he organized his share of coins, scrip, and gems by value.
“What!?” Rarity’s head jerked up, her eyes wide as she stared at him. “That horrid, run-down hovel of a place? Oh, no, no, no, no! That simply will not do!” She shook her head emphatically, her voice rising with each word, laced with growing dramatics.
Metal blinked in surprise, instinctively stepping back. “I-it’s all I could afford!” he exclaimed. “If I hadn’t met you, I probably would have been out on the street after tomorrow!”
Rarity paused, her dramatic energy fading as she took a deep, calming breath. “I understand, darling, and I truly sympathize with your circumstances,” she said, her voice steadying. “But we simply must find you more suitable accommodations. I can’t imagine the Trotting Trough is a place one can trust with their valuables.”
“That’s why I don’t,” Metal admitted, his voice quieter now. “Everything I own fits in my saddlebags.”
Rarity’s expression softened, her gaze flicking between him and the pile of earnings. She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully before making a decision. “Here,” she said, pushing her half of the day’s profits from Metal’s work toward him with her magic. “Check yourself into a better hotel and start looking for an apartment or a room to rent. With Ponyville growing so quickly, you’re sure to find something soon—especially if you use me as a reference.”
Metal Tested stared at the pile of money on the counter, blinking in disbelief. “Rarity, I… I can’t take this,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s too much, and you just met me! I mean, I appreciate the reference, but…”
Rarity waved a hoof with a light chuckle. “I’m terribly sorry, darling, but I fear I’ve fallen mysteriously deaf at the moment,” she said with a playful smile. Before he could protest further, she added firmly, “Besides, this is a loan. I’ll expect you to pay me back once you’re more firmly on your hooves.”
Metal hesitated, his brow furrowing as he glanced between her and the money. Finally, he nodded. “Okay. A loan.” He pulled the money toward him with his telekinesis, adding it to his share and resuming his careful sorting by value. “I’ll pay you back—every bit of it. With interest,” he added resolutely.
“That won’t be necessary,” Rarity replied with a shake of her head. “Simply the amount I lent you will be quite sufficient.” She tapped a hoof lightly on the counter. “As for accommodations, I’ve heard good things about the Mane Street Meadow. Tourists often speak of it as both comfortable and affordable.”
“I know where that is,” Metal said, nodding slowly. “Thanks, Rarity… again.” He glanced at her necklace, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’m glad you wore my necklace.”
Rarity glanced down, her own smile softening as she touched the pendant lightly with her hoof. “Well, it’s beautiful, darling,” she said. “And besides, I could hardly expect my customers to purchase something I wouldn’t proudly wear myself, could I?”
“I guess not,” Metal said with a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Still… I’m glad you like it.”
Their conversation wound down quickly after that, each pony turning to their own tasks. Metal Tested finished sorting his money by value, meticulously organizing the coins, scrip, and gems into tidy stacks, while Rarity completed entering the day’s receipts with her usual precision.
Once his counting was finished, Metal retrieved his saddlebags from his workroom, hesitating over what to leave behind and what to take with him. After a few moments of deliberation, he decided to leave his books, trusting his memory of the most common patterns, but took his toolkit and jump rings—enough to continue working on his jewelry in his hotel room.
As he turned to leave, Metal paused at the door to Rarity’s apartment. His eyes flicked between it and his workroom, indecision flickering across his face. Finally, with a determined nod, he returned to his workroom and retrieved one item.
Metal opened the door to Rarity’s apartment, finding it styled like an efficiency space, with her bed just a few steps from the entrance. Carefully, he placed his chosen item on her bedside table, ensuring it was neatly positioned. He lingered for only a moment before politely closing the door behind him and heading back downstairs.
“Thanks again for everything, Rarity,” Metal said, giving her a wave as he trotted toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”
“Have a good evening, Metal!” Rarity replied, returning his wave with a cheerful smile. After he exited the shop, she locked the door behind him with a flick of her magic. Sweetie Belle had her own key if she decided to stay over again, so there was no need to worry. With a contented sigh, Rarity turned and headed upstairs, eager for a relaxing shower before diving into her lesson plans.
Entering her apartment, Rarity immediately noticed something new on her bedside table. “What’s this?” she murmured, stepping closer and lifting the object with her telekinesis. A soft chuckle escaped her as she examined the battered, oversized paperback book.
“The Art of Chainmail, by Forge Hammer,” she read aloud. A slip of paper sticking out from the top caught her attention, and she pulled it free to read the hornwritten note. “‘Dear Rarity—This is the book that got me started. You can borrow it as long as you like. Jewelry patterns start on page 103. —M.T.’”
A warm smile spread across her face as she held the book close, appreciating the gesture. “Thank you, Metal Tested,” she murmured to herself, touched by the thoughtful gift.
Smiling fondly, Rarity set the book on her nightstand, making a mental note to peruse it later. First, she needed a shower and time to work on her lesson plans. Humming a light tune, she trotted toward the bathroom, her mind already turning over ideas for incorporating lightweight chainmail pieces into a new line of clothing. The possibilities sparked her creative instincts, and she resolved to sketch a few concepts before bed. Tomorrow, she’d discuss the potential of collaborating more closely with Metal on such designs.
As she climbed into the shower, Rarity chuckled softly to herself, her cheeks warming as she turned the water to her customary steamy temperature. Down, girl, she thought, shaking her head at her own musings. He may be pleasant, even charming, but he says himself that he has issues. You’ve already given him a job, a loan, and a reference to help him find better living arrangements. Don’t get swept up in the idea of saving him.
The spray of the hot water relaxed her tense muscles as she began shampooing her mane, letting her thoughts wander back to the day’s events. Despite her internal caution, she found herself humming the tune of the song they’d sung together that morning. The memory brought a small, delighted smile to her lips. Metal’s guarded demeanor and flashes of humor intrigued her, and his talent spoke volumes about his dedication and potential.
Their partnership was off to a wonderful start, and there was no denying the chemistry they shared, even in simple moments of collaboration. Rarity closed her eyes, the melody flowing freely now. Whatever lay ahead, this certainly felt like the beginning of something truly beautiful.
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Chained Hearts - A Love Story
Chapter 4: Unusual Reading Material and Too Much, Too Soon
“Chainmail? Since when are you into armor, sis?”
Rarity glanced up from her reading at Sweetie Belle’s question as the adolescent filly entered the kitchen, a curious expression on her face. “Good morning to you, too, Sweetie Belle,” she chuckled lightly. “And to answer your question, Metal Tested lent me this.” She gestured to the battered paperback resting on the table beside her plate. She was nibbling on a slice of breakfast quiche while paging through the book Metal had left on her bedside table. “I expressed an interest in his craft yesterday.”
Sweetie Belle tilted her head as she pulled out a bowl, a box of cornflakes, and a carton of milk. “He works in armor?” she asked, carrying her breakfast items to the table. “I thought he made jewelry.”
“It turns out the techniques are surprisingly similar,” Rarity replied, tucking a stray lock of her mane back behind her ear. “He explained a little about it at the spa the other day, and I must say, it’s quite fascinating. Even just reading this has given me some wonderful ideas for a new line with chainmail accents.” Her voice softened as her eyes flicked back to the page, a hoof idly tracing the lines of an intricate pattern. “Perhaps even an expansion into cosplay.”
Sweetie Belle froze mid-pour, staring at her sister with wide eyes. Setting the milk carton down with an exaggerated thud, she leaned across the table and grabbed Rarity’s cheeks with her forehooves. “Cosplay?” she exclaimed. “The real Rarity once called cosplay ‘a Nightmare Night that never ends.’ Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?” she demanded dramatically.
Rarity blinked, then let out a laugh, gently brushing away Sweetie Belle’s hooves. “It’s just a thought, Sweetie Belle,” she said lightly. “Talking with Metal Tested gave me the idea, but there could be a viable market. I imagine many cosplayers would appreciate professional-quality work rather than cobbling together whatever they can from odds and ends.” She arched a brow with a small, smug smile. “And don’t forget, I do design costumes for Sapphire Shores.”
“How could I forget, especially after almost ruining one?” Sweetie Belle quipped, chuckling as she sat back down and stirred her cornflakes. “But from what I’ve read in the cosplay magazines, a lot of cosplayers are already really good at making their own costumes.”
“Perhaps,” Rarity admitted, her hoof absently brushing over the book’s cover. “But think of how many would relish the opportunity to pair their creations with truly exquisite, hoofcrafted accents. Professional collaboration could take their costumes to the next level.”
Sweetie Belle tilted her head thoughtfully, her spoon poised mid-air. “Hmm, I guess that makes sense…” Her grin suddenly turned sly. “Or maybe you’re just trying to impress him. Sounds like my big sister has a bit of a crush, ” she teased in a singsong tone, wagging her spoon at Rarity before taking another bite.
Rarity blushed faintly, a delicate pink rising to her cheeks as she waved a hoof dismissively. “I do not , Sweetie Belle!” she protested, though even to her own ears, her voice carried a touch too much vigor. “You know how my creative process works. Inspiration can strike from anywhere. Yes, Metal Tested is a pleasant fellow, but we’re simply business partners and friends.”
Sweetie Belle’s grin widened. “You do know your left ear always twitches when you’re lying, right?” she said with mock innocence. Rarity’s hoof shot up to her ear instinctively, her eyes wide, and Sweetie Belle dissolved into giggles. “Gotcha!”
“Oh, you!” Rarity huffed, though a laugh bubbled up despite herself, grabbing a napkin in her fetlock and throwing it at her little sister. She didn’t often engage in such unladylike behavior, but Sweetie Belle had a way of bringing out her girlish side, especially in private.
Sweetie Belle caught the napkin mid-air with her telekinesis, her grin unabated. “Come on, Rarity,” she said, her tone teasing. “You told me all about it last night! You met this guy on the street, you bought him a spa treatment and dinner, gave him a job… this is straight out of one of your romance novels!”
Rarity’s blush deepened, a warm crimson spreading across her cheeks. She hadn’t told Sweetie Belle about the loan or offering herself as a reference to help Metal Tested find housing, but she couldn’t deny that her sister had a point. Holding tight to her dignity, she straightened her posture and lifted her chin. “I hardly think your experience reading my romance novels and meddling in Big Mac’s love life qualifies you as an expert in matters of the heart!” she retorted, though her tone lacked true heat. They both knew she was deflecting.
Sweetie Belle smirked knowingly as she spooned another bite of cereal. “Hey, he did end up marrying Sugar Belle,” she said between bites. “That might never have happened if we Crusaders hadn’t helped them get together in the first place.”
Rarity arched a brow as she used Metal Tested’s note to mark her page and closed the book. “You also helped slip him that love potion on Hearts and Hooves Day a few years ago,” she countered, carrying her breakfast dishes to the sink. “As I recall, Ms. Cheerilee had quite a bit to say on that subject.”
Sweetie Belle groaned, burying her face in her hooves as her cheeks burned. “Ugh! Are we ever going to live that down? We made sure to cure them after we realized it was a love poison! Anyway, they did end up dating for a little while afterward,” she finished, peeking out over her hooves.
“Granted,” Rarity replied, smirking over her shoulder as she rinsed her plate. “Though if memory serves, their actual relationship began well after that little fiasco.” She tossed her mane playfully as she returned to the table. “As for living it down? Well, give it another twenty years or so.”
Sweetie Belle groaned louder, hiding her face behind her hooves once more. “Can we please change the subject?” she begged, her voice muffled but dripping with the acute embarrassment of an adolescent hearing an embarrassing story of their past exploits for the thousandth time.
“I feel it’s only fair to point out that you’re the one who brought it up,” Rarity said with a soft chuckle. “But yes, we can change the subject.” She paused, her tone growing gentler. “I don’t suppose you’re any closer to forgiving Mother and Father for your argument?”
Sweetie Belle sighed, dropping her hooves and gazing down into her cereal as her spoon circled aimlessly through the milk. After a moment, she nodded. “Yeah, I’ll go home tonight,” she said reluctantly. “I just get so frustrated. The Crusaders are making real money with our consultations and running the day camp, but Mom and Dad still think we’re just playing around, like when we were little.”
“Oh, Sweetie Belle,” Rarity sighed, stepping over to pull her little sister into a hug. Her hoof reached up to gently ruffle Sweetie Belle’s mane, earning an annoyed huff from the filly. “Mother and Father mean well; they’re just very different ponies than you or I.”
“I know they do,” Sweetie Belle replied, accepting the hug but swatting Rarity’s hoof away from her mane. “I just get tired of being treated like a little filly. When we argued, they said the day camp was just glorified babysitting and that everypony can figure out their cutie marks on their own. They don’t understand how we help ponies figure out who they really are—sometimes even adults, like Trouble Shoes.”
Rarity’s expression softened as she sat down beside Sweetie Belle, taking her younger sister’s fetlocks in her own. Her magic brushed through Sweetie’s mane, fixing the mess she’d just ruffled. “I think you’ve hit on the problem exactly,” she said thoughtfully. “They want to keep seeing us as their little fillies, no matter how much we grow. It’s like that ‘sister day’ I planned when you’d outgrown the things we used to do together.”
Sweetie Belle tilted her head. “Oh yeah…when you kept dragging me to puppet shows and dress-up games.” She grinned teasingly. “It wasn’t terrible, but I like zip-lining better now.”
Rarity laughed softly. “Yes, well, it took me a bit to adjust. But I promise you, Mother and Father will come around in time.” She hesitated, her gaze softening. “You might not remember this, but I had similar struggles when I first started my fashion work. They thought it was just a phase, even when other ponies began commissioning me to make them new clothes. For years, they hovered, offering unsolicited advice and treating my work as a hobby.”
Sweetie Belle tilted her head, her brow furrowing. “What finally changed their minds?”
Rarity’s lips curved into a gentle smile. “Patience—and persistence. Eventually, the results spoke for themselves. It will be the same with you and the Crusaders. Keep showing them how dedicated and capable you are, and they’ll see it too.”
“How long did it take?” Sweetie Belle pressed, her curiosity growing. “What made them finally get it?”
Rarity chuckled lightly, brushing a strand of her mane back. “Well, it certainly didn’t hurt when I opened my Manehattan and Canterlot stores,” she replied with a wry smile. “But more than that, I think it’s just the way we see ponies we love. Sometimes, we cling to the versions of them we remember from long ago. Even now, I catch myself thinking of Mother and Father as the ponies who wouldn’t let me stay up past nine or wear eyeliner until I was “older”...which, conveniently, always seemed to be well in the future.”
Sweetie Belle tilted her head. “So, when did that change for you? When did you stop seeing them like that?”
Rarity hesitated, a nostalgic smile tugging at her lips. “I believe it was during my teenage years—specifically, during my ‘punk’ phase.”
Sweetie Belle’s spoon froze halfway to her mouth. “Wait, hold up!” she exclaimed. “You had a punk phase? When was this?”
Rarity’s chuckle turned playful. “How do you think I adapted so easily to the punk look for my Vanity Mare spread?” she teased, arching a brow. “You were just an infant at the time, but your big sister was quite the rebel. Mohawk, combat boots, eyeliner so thick it looked painted on—I had the works. And I still enjoy the music on occasion.”
Sweetie Belle gawked at her, wide-eyed. “Wow… I had no idea. You just don’t seem…punky.”
“Yes, well,” Rarity replied with a delicate shrug, offering her sister a small smile. “Our tastes evolve over time. I’ve noticed you’ve been spending more time tending to your appearance lately, and far less engaging in activities that leave you covered in mud or tree sap.”
Sweetie Belle giggled, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Well, I do want to look good, you know?” she admitted. “Apple Bloom and Scootaloo can pull off the ‘tomcolt’ thing way better than I ever could.”
Rarity smiled warmly, resting a hoof on Sweetie Belle’s. “And you look beautiful, darling. You’re growing into your own unique style—one I’m sure will inspire others someday.” She chuckled, her expression turning nostalgic. “Ah, adolescence…my first crush, my first dance, my first date…” She shook her head with a fond smile and leaned over to plant an affectionate kiss on Sweetie Belle’s mane. “But I digress. What you and your friends do is truly extraordinary. Mother and Father might not understand it now, but you’re helping ponies in ways they can’t even imagine.”
Sweetie Belle nodded slowly, her gaze thoughtful. “Yeah, but…they’re our parents, you know? I just wish they could see I’m not a little filly anymore.”
Rarity’s smile turned playful. “Well, I hope you remember from that wish-flower incident not to be in too much of a hurry to grow up. Besides,” she added with a teasing wink, “you’ll always be my little sister. Now get your school things.”
Sweetie Belle groaned good-naturedly but grinned. “Yes, sis,” she said, slurping down the last of her cereal milk before getting up to place her bowl in the sink.
As the two sisters went their separate ways to prepare for the day, Rarity lingered in her room. Her magic floated over one of the Byzantrot bracelets Metal Tested had gifted her, fastening it around her right foreleg. She held it up to admire the intricate design, its understated elegance reminding her of its creator. She paused, the faintest smile gracing her lips, before shaking her head lightly. Not that I’ve given him much thought, of course.
Soon, the sisters left Carousel Boutique together—Sweetie Belle trotting toward the tiny schoolhouse she still attended, while Rarity made her way to the School of Friendship.
Rarity’s morning teaching Generosity classes was hectic but enjoyable; the spa day and making a new friend had done wonders to shake her out of her rut. At lunchtime, she settled into the faculty lounge with her dandelion salad, pulling out The Art of Chainmail to page through as she ate. Yet her mind kept drifting back to her conversation with Sweetie Belle over breakfast, leaving her unable to focus on the text.
The sound of the lounge door opening drew Rarity’s attention, and she glanced up to see Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and Starlight Glimmer entering. She smiled warmly. “Hello, girls! How are you all today?”
“Hey, Rare,” Rainbow Dash greeted, plopping down across from her. She flipped open a lunchbox tucked under one wing, her sharp eyes catching sight of the book on the table. Her head tilted, and her mouth quirked into a grin. “Wait a sec. Are you seriously reading a book on chainmail? Are you ditching fashion to be a blacksmith now?” She snickered at the thought, pulling out her potato-and-pasta sandwich.
Rarity rolled her eyes but laughed lightly, smoothing her mane with a hoof. “Nothing so drastic, darling,” she replied. “This book was lent to me by a new friend. I expressed an interest in his craft, and he was kind enough to share it.”
Fluttershy, ever curious, smiled as she sat down with her daisy-and-watercress sandwich. “A new friend?” she asked, her tone warm and inviting. “I didn’t know you knew anypony who worked with armor. What’s he like?” Angel Bunny hopped out of her saddlebag, dragging a sandwich bag of salad onto the table for his own lunch.
Starlight Glimmer joined them, a thermos of soup floating alongside her in her magic. “Yeah, I’m curious too,” she chimed in, settling into a chair. “Armor isn’t exactly what I’d expect you to be interested in.”
“Well, he works with jewelry as well,” Rarity explained, her tone light but thoughtful. “He’s very sweet and has a way with animals, though not quite as remarkable as yours, Fluttershy. Even Opalescence seems to like him—and you know how she can be with new ponies.” She chuckled softly. “The more I think about it, the more he reminds me of you, Fluttershy, particularly how you were when we first met. He’s quite shy.”
Fluttershy’s ears perked. “Oh, that’s lovely. But, um…is he okay? You said he reminds you of me, but I hope he isn’t too shy.”
“Well…” Rarity hesitated, smoothing her napkin. “When Pinkie Pie showed up at the boutique and tried to throw one of her spontaneous parties to welcome him, he had a bit of a panic attack.”
“Wait, hold up,” Starlight said, setting down her thermos with a curious look. “At the boutique? So is this guy a customer or something?”
“Oh, no, no, no,” Rarity replied, waving a hoof dismissively. “His name is Metal Tested, and I met him while he was selling hornmade jewelry on a street corner the day before yesterday. His craftsmanship was so exquisite that I offered him space at the Carousel to sell his work.”
Rainbow Dash’s eyes widened in mock disbelief. “Hold the runway—you met this guy selling jewelry on the street, and now he’s got a spot in your store?” She leaned across the table with a mischievous grin. “That’s some fast-track business partner action, Rares. Are you sure you’re not just helping him out because he’s cute or something?” She took another bite of her sandwich, her grin unwavering.
“Rainbow Dash!” Rarity’s cheeks flushed a deep pink. “I do not enter business relationships based on whether a stallion is ‘cute.’”
“Ohhh, so you admit you do think he’s cute?” Starlight said with a teasing wink, leaning into the moment. “Nothing wrong with a little hayloft hop, Rarity. Just pack a saddlebag of precautions.” Rainbow Dash snorted into her sandwich as the two exchanged a hoof bump.
Rarity huffed, though the corners of her mouth twitched. “You two are insufferable!” she declared, though her tone carried more amusement than exasperation.
Fluttershy blushed and giggled shyly at Starlight’s euphemism, nibbling her sandwich as she gently pressed two feathers over Angel Bunny’s ears. “I think you’re too young to listen to this part, Angel Bunny,” she murmured softly.
Angel scowled, swatting Fluttershy’s wing away with an indignant forepaw before chittering furiously. Fluttershy gasped, her jaw dropping. “Angel! Where did you learn such language?” The mischievous rabbit crossed his forepaws over his chest, giving her an exasperated look before launching into another round of chittering—this time accompanied by some surprisingly suggestive hip movements. Fluttershy’s blush deepened to the color of a ripe cherry. “Oh…so that’s where you run off to every spring…” she said faintly, covering her face with a wingtip. “We’re going to have a serious talk later, young buck.”
Rarity shook her head, her own cheeks darkening to a fiery red as she pointedly cleared her throat. “I swear, you three are worse than my little sister! You’ll be planning my wedding next!”
“So?” Rainbow Dash said, grinning as she leaned forward in her chair. “Come on, spill! What’s your new knight of the boutique like? What was his name, Twisted Metal?” She snorted amusedly. “Sounds like a rock star.”
“Metal Tested,” Rarity corrected primly, flicking her tail. “And given what I know of him, the very last place he’d want to be is on a stage.” She paused, glancing around at her friends’ eager faces. Rainbow Dash and Starlight Glimmer barely tried to conceal their curiosity, their grins betraying their excitement for juicy gossip. Fluttershy, though quieter, nibbled at her sandwich while stroking Angel Bunny’s neck, her eyes gentle but intrigued. Rarity sighed dramatically, flipping her mane with practiced flair. “Oh, very well—if you’re all going to be such geese about it.” Her voice took on a theatrical lilt, though her lips twitched with a knowing smile. “It all started two days ago. It was a slow day at the Boutique, and I was feeling rather run-down…”
Metal Tested’s morning was proving just as busy as Rarity’s, though in a very different way. Taking her advice, he had moved from the Trotting Trough Inn to the Mane Street Meadow the evening before, and the simple change in lodging had already worked wonders. The bed was sturdy and comfortable, the bathroom was clean and free of limescale or mold, and the window sealed properly, keeping drafts firmly outside. There was even a tiny en-suite kitchen with a minifridge and a small magic-powered stove. For the first time in ages, Metal had enjoyed a proper home-cooked meal—even if the facilities were limited, the act of preparing food himself felt grounding. When he woke that morning, he felt more refreshed than he had in years.
Now, dressed in his chainmail belt and tie and armed with the personal ads from the Ponyville Post , Metal was working on the next step in his plan: finding a more permanent place to live. Rarity’s loan had covered his initial needs, but he knew he couldn’t rely on her generosity forever. Answering a few listings under “Rooms for Rent,” he steeled himself for the socially taxing task of meeting new ponies. His anxiety gnawed at him, but having a specific purpose—discussing housing—gave him something to focus on and helped ease the discomfort.
Still, even with Rarity’s name as a reference, the process was far from easy. Most landlords’ eyes lit up at the mention of one of Equestria’s most famous heroes and designers, but the recognition seemed to spark curiosity rather than confidence. The first ad brought him to the home of a young widow and her two foals. The room she offered was furnished and cozy, and the mare’s friendly demeanor made the interaction pleasant enough. Yet as he stood there, an inexplicable tightness gripped his chest. The idea of living there—of being so close to a family—made his skin prickle with unease. This isn’t right , he thought, forcing a polite smile. “It’s a lovely room,” he said, his voice carefully steady, “but I don’t think it’s quite what I’m looking for.” The widow smiled understandingly, though her curiosity lingered in her eyes as he made his excuses and left.
Back on the street, Metal exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple with a forehoof. On to the next, Metal, he told himself firmly, clutching the paper with his telekinesis. One hoof in front of the next.
The next few listings each came with their own set of challenges. One was offered by a retiree who, clearly starved for company, spent the entire conversation bombarding Metal with increasingly personal questions—his background, his hobbies, even his love life (not that he had one). The barrage left him longing for the relative anonymity of the Trotting Trough Inn.
Then there was a basement apartment with a long list of infantilizing rules that would have made him feel like a schoolcolt again—minus his sister’s added torment, thankfully. That one was followed by a neglected cottage the landlord optimistically described as “having character” and “a good fixer-upper.” The peeling paint and sagging porch, however, made Metal wonder why it should be the tenant’s responsibility to “fix” anything they didn’t break themselves.
The oddest encounter by far was with a green-coated mare sporting red dreadlocks. She seemed friendly enough, but the strong smell of smoke permeating her house and her tendency to stand too close—her hooves brushing his forelegs and withers—had him on edge. She was the only pony who didn’t seem to recognize Rarity’s name, though with the faraway look in her eye, who could tell?
By noon, Metal found himself sitting on a park bench, letting out a long sigh as he pulled a wrapped sandwich from his saddlebags. The morning had been exhausting. While he appreciated Rarity’s support, he couldn’t help doubting he’d find a place that truly felt right.
As he unwrapped his sandwich, his gaze wandered to a pair of foals chasing each other around a tree while their parents chatted on a nearby bench. For a moment, Metal felt a pang of envy—the carefree laughter of the foals, the easy camaraderie of the parents. There was no weight of regret in their laughter, no shadow of guilt in their bonds.
Was I ever really that young? he wondered, chewing thoughtfully. He wasn’t old by any measure, but he often felt like he’d been born with an old soul—not one marked by wisdom, but by the weight of loss, regret, and loneliness.
Shaking his head, Metal turned his focus to the crumbs collecting on the parchment wrapping of his sandwich. I just need to keep looking, he told himself firmly. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt discouraged, and it wouldn’t be the last. He had to keep moving forward. One hoof in front of the next.
A distinctive “snap” at the edge of Metal’s hearing drew his attention, and he looked up to see another unicorn stallion lowering a camera from his eye. Panic surged through Metal’s chest, quickening his breath and pinning his ears back. It wouldn’t be the first time a snoopy busybody had led to him being driven out of a town. He froze, his pulse pounding and his ears pinned back.
But as the seconds passed, his breathing slowed, and he realized the stallion wasn’t looking at him. Instead, the camera had been trained on the foals playing under the trees. Relief swept over him, but it was fleeting. Metal’s brow furrowed as his gaze shifted between the stallion and the foals.
The stallion’s color scheme was uncannily similar to his own—gray coat and blue mane—but where Metal’s coat carried a silvery sheen, the stranger’s was dull and ashy, and his mane a paler, washed-out blue. The effect was only made starker by the dark windbreaker he wore, its fabric seeming to absorb what little light his appearance reflected. His cutie mark—a camera printing out a photo—made his purpose obvious, but something about him set Metal on edge.
Then the stranger’s eyes met Metal’s. They widened slightly, just for an instant, before he turned and began trotting away. His pace was smooth and practiced, but just a shade too quick to seem casual.
Metal’s frown deepened, his ears twitching nervously. He glanced back at the foals and their parents, who remained blissfully unaware of what had just transpired. His jaw tightened as unease coiled in his chest. If the photographer wasn’t with the family, then why was he taking pictures of the foals?
Metal wanted to believe there was an innocent explanation—maybe a local journalist collecting images for a community piece, or an artist capturing candid moments. But if that were the case, wouldn’t the photographer have approached the family openly?
The alternative that came to mind made Metal’s blood run cold. He ducked his head, staring down at the remains of his sandwich. His hooves itched to follow the stallion, to demand an explanation. But how? What could he even say? “Excuse me, sir, why were you taking pictures in the park?” The words sounded absurd, accusatory, even dangerous. Drawing that kind of attention to himself was the last thing he could afford.
And what if he was wrong? Metal had seen how easily a misunderstanding could spiral into chaos. Accusing a stranger in a public park—especially with no proof—could backfire spectacularly. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to breathe deeply, his mind churning as he weighed his instincts against the risks.
Metal shook his head sharply, catching himself before his thoughts could spiral further. With a flick of his telekinesis, he balled up the sandwich wrapping and tossed it into a nearby trash can. Not your business, Metal, he told himself firmly, rising from the bench. His hooves felt heavy as he trotted toward the edge of the park, preparing to resume his house hunt. Let it go.
It was probably nothing. Who was he to assume the worst about another pony?
And yet… didn’t ponies often assume the worst of him ?
The thought struck him like a cold gust of wind, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. An echo of old memories rose unbidden—mistakes, regrets, and the judgments of others. The weight of it all pressed down on his chest, as if daring him to confront it.
Metal shook his head again, more forcefully this time, and focused on the ground in front of him. The past was the past. He couldn’t change it, and he certainly couldn’t let it dictate his actions now. He had enough to worry about without borrowing trouble.
Still, as his hooves carried him back into the relative anonymity of town, a shadow of unease lingered at his side, clinging to him like an unwelcome companion.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Rainbow Dash held up a hoof, cutting off Rarity’s recounting of how she met Metal Tested and their first day working together at the Carousel Boutique. “Let me get this straight.” The azure pegasus started ticking off points on the feathers of one wing. “You met this guy on a street corner. You bought him a spa day and dinner. He gave you jewelry.” She gestured pointedly to the bracelet on Rarity’s foreleg. “Then you gave him a job, a workspace, and even sang and danced with him. Oh, and don’t forget the loan and letting him use you as a reference for house-hunting.”
“Well…yes,” Rarity admitted with a faint blush. Rainbow Dash had a knack for boiling situations down to their most basic elements, and hearing her describe everything like that made Rarity’s generosity sound, well, excessive.
Rainbow folded her wing back against her side and burst into laughter. “And after all that, you expect us to believe you don’t want to lift your tail for him? Come on, Rares, your heat must be hitting you like a train this month!”
“Rainbow Dash!” Rarity gasped, her voice high with indignation as her cheeks turned from a delicate pink to a fiery crimson. “A lady does not discuss such things!” She flicked her mane haughtily, but the effect was somewhat undermined by her wide, scandalized eyes.
Her protest only made her friends laugh harder, Rainbow’s loud, unrestrained guffaws mixing with Starlight’s knowing chuckles. Even Fluttershy was giggling softly behind her hoof, her cheeks pink but her amusement evident.
“Now, now, Rainbow,” Starlight said between laughs, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”
“Thank you, Starlight,” Rarity nodded to the School of Friendship’s guidance counselor, her tone relieved.
“Rarity’s clearly in denial,” Starlight continued with a sly smirk. “What we’re seeing here is a textbook case of sublimated desire. She’s channeling all this… energy into helping him instead of just admitting she’s got the hots for him.”
“Starlight! ” Rarity wailed, her blush spreading furiously. “You traitor!”
“I mean, come on, Rares.” Starlight gestured dramatically at the bracelet on Rarity’s foreleg. “You’re accessorizing with his jewelry like it’s a wedding band. That’s a pretty big statement!”
Rarity huffed, lifting her chin imperiously. “I am wearing this bracelet as a mark of professional and aesthetic appreciation! Not that you three would understand, since you never wear anything nice unless I all but wrestle you into it.”
Fluttershy giggled softly, trying to keep the conversation light. “Well, it does look lovely on you, Rarity. I can see why you’d want to show it off.”
“Oh, sure,” Rainbow interjected with a wicked grin. “But are we sure that’s the only reason she likes it? Chains can be pretty fun to play with, you know… with the right pony.”
“Rainbow Dash!” Rarity gasped, her composure shattering entirely as she buried her burning face in her hooves. Fluttershy squeaked, her wings snapping shut, while Starlight leaned back in her chair, laughing so hard she almost spilled her coffee.
“Now, now,” Fluttershy interjected gently before Rarity could launch another protest. Her voice was soft, but thoughtful, and she stroked Angel Bunny’s ears as she spoke. “Maybe it’s not about heat or romance at all. Maybe Rarity just… sees something in him she wants to help nurture. Like when I took in Harry the bear, or Angel Bunny.”
Angel chittered appreciatively, leaning into her feathers, his earlier indignation forgotten.
Rainbow Dash snickered, nearly choking on her sandwich. “Fluttershy, are you saying Rarity’s treating this guy like a rescue pet?”
“I didn’t say that!” Fluttershy gasped, blushing faintly as her wings twitched. “I just mean she probably sees potential in him and wants to help him bring it out. I think it’s wonderful that you’re giving him such support, Rarity.”
Rarity sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she gave Fluttershy a grateful nod. “Thank you, Fluttershy,” she said with a faint smile. “It’s nice to have at least one other adult in the room.” As she said this, she fixed Rainbow Dash and Starlight Glimmer with an icy glare.
“Oh, come on, Rares!” Rainbow grinned, completely unfazed by the glare. “Just admit you’re crushing on him. It’s fine! We’re your friends—we won’t judge. Much.”
Rarity slammed her hoof on the table, startling her friends into silence. “For the last time, I am NOT crushing on him! He is a colleague and a friend. Nothing more!” The dramatic pitch in her voice, however, sounded so over-the-top that even she cringed inwardly, as though she were auditioning for a particularly bad stage play.
Rainbow Dash blinked, stunned for all of a second, before bursting into laughter. “Sure, Rares. Just tell him that when you accidentally propose over dessert next week.”
“Enough!” Rarity exclaimed, brushing her mane back with a hoof as she tried to compose herself. Her voice softened as she continued. “This isn’t about me or… anything of the sort. It’s about him. He’s been through so much, and I can tell he’s still holding something back. I don’t know what it is, but I…” She hesitated, biting her lip. “I just want to help.”
Fluttershy reached across the table to touch Rarity’s hoof, her voice gentle. “Maybe he’s overwhelmed because he’s not used to kindness,” she suggested. “You said he panicked at the attention from Pinkie’s party; maybe he feels the same way about all the help you’re giving him, just on a smaller scale.”
Rarity frowned, turning Fluttershy’s words over in her mind as she absently brushed a stray hair behind her ear. “That… does make sense,” she admitted. “He always seems hesitant when I offer him anything, as if he’s bracing for it to be snatched away.” Her gaze dropped to the book Metal had lent her, her forehoof lightly brushing its cover. “I’ve been trying to give him the time and space he needs,” she murmured. “But… perhaps I’ve been expecting him to open up too quickly.”
“Or maybe,” Starlight interjected with a mischievous grin, “you can ‘open up’ for him after another candlelit dinner or two.”
“Hmph!” Rarity snorted, sitting back in her chair and crossing her forehooves over her chest. “See if I ever make either of you shameless hussies anything nice again,” she grumbled at Starlight and Rainbow Dash, though her tone lacked true venom.
“Oh, no!” Rainbow gasped melodramatically, pretending to swoon in her chair with one hoof held to her forehead. “How will I ever survive without another frilly froo-froo dress I can barely flap my wings in?”
Rarity sighed, her gaze dropping to her bracelet as she absently turned it around her foreleg. “You all don’t understand,” she said softly. “He’s been through so much—I can see it in his eyes, in the way he holds himself, as if he’s constantly bracing for something terrible. I just…” She hesitated, her voice faltering. “I don’t want him to feel like he has to face it alone.”
The table fell quiet, Rarity’s words cutting through the teasing mood.
Fluttershy offered a kind smile, her voice gentle. “That’s really thoughtful of you, Rarity. Sometimes all it takes is one pony to show they care. If he’s had a hard time, I’m sure your kindness means more to him than you realize.”
Rarity nodded slightly, chewing her bottom lip. “Perhaps,” she murmured. “But now that you’ve pointed it out, I do wonder if I’ve been overwhelming him. He always looks so uncertain when I offer help.”
Starlight tilted her head, her expression more serious. “From what you’ve said, you’ve been incredibly generous, and I respect that,” she said. “But…are you sure you know enough about him to be giving this much help?”
Rarity’s ears flicked back, her brow furrowing. “Do you think I’ve overstepped?”
“Maybe not yet,” Starlight replied, her tone measured. “But it’s worth being cautious. When you want to help somepony, it’s easy to overlook potential red flags. I’m not saying there are any,” she added quickly, seeing Rarity’s concerned expression. “I’m just saying it’s something to keep in mind.”
Rainbow Dash rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “Seriously, Rares, you’ve done a lot for this guy. Just because he’s nice doesn’t mean he’s earned all that yet. Maybe it’s time to take a step back and see what he does next.”
Rarity glanced around at her friends, their earlier teasing replaced with quiet concern. “I understand what you’re saying,” she said finally, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I just felt like he needed somepony to believe in him.”
Rainbow nodded, her tone softening. “That’s cool, and it’s great that you’re trying to help. But if he’s the real deal, he won’t mind proving it.”
Fluttershy reached over to rest her hoof on Rarity’s. “Just remember, we’re here for you, too. You don’t have to carry all of this on your own.”
Rarity’s smile grew warmer, her composure returning. “Thank you, darlings.” She took a deep breath, smoothing her mane with a practiced touch. “Now, if we’re quite finished dissecting my personal affairs, I believe it’s time we all got back to work.” She stood with a practiced toss of her mane, earning a chuckle from Rainbow Dash and Starlight.
As they parted ways, though, Rarity couldn’t shake the lingering doubt. Was she truly helping Metal, or was she pushing him into something he wasn’t ready for? The question weighed on her mind even as the memory of the song they’d shared warmed her heart. She would just have to trust her instincts—and, perhaps, his courage—to find the balance.
Chained Hearts - A Love Story
Chapter 5: An Unexpected Guest
Rarity bustled about her private workroom, the late-afternoon sun casting long shadows over the organized chaos. Though she typically relished the creative energy of her inner sanctum, she found herself feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious after the conversation over lunch. Metal Tested would be arriving soon to work on the price list for his jewelry, and she didn’t want him to think that all of her private space was as cluttered and disorganized as the storage room she had hastily converted into a workspace for him.
“Oh, stop it, Rarity,” she told herself firmly when she found herself rearranging the same fabric samples for the third time, catching her reflection in a mirror. “This is a workshop, not a ballroom. He won’t care. He’ll probably even appreciate the atmosphere.” Still, her thoughts wandered back to her new associate as she continued straightening up. Creative, thoughtful, skilled…Metal’s shy earnestness was a refreshing contrast to Canterlot’s fawning social climbers, not to mention the overcritical fanponies who had boycotted her after the Friendship Journal was first published.
Of course, she reminded herself, this is all purely professional. Admiring his work and wanting to nurture his talent were the only reasons she intended to receive him in her private workspace. It was just generosity, plain and simple. If anything, she hoped to inspire him to see his own potential—and perhaps reassure herself that her faith in him wasn’t misplaced. Yes, that’s all it is .
A knock on the boutique door interrupted Rarity’s train of thought and she looked up from her drafting desk with a start, her magic freezing in the act of re-spooling a length of ribbon. That must be him! she thought, trying to ignore the odd little flutter in her chest. After a quick glance in the mirror and a final adjustment to her mane, she trotted out to answer. Pleasantly professional, Rarity, she reminded herself, arranging her expression in a polite smile. Just be pleasantly professional.
She reached out with her telekinesis a few steps from the door, opening it with a flourish. “Hello, Met-Oh!” The words caught in her throat as she recognized the visitor, then relaxed into a softer, more familiar smile. “Well, now, look what the cat dragged in…himself!” she teased.
Capper chuckled, doffing the top hat Rarity had given him during the celebration of the Storm King’s defeat and giving a theatrical bow that swept his opera cloak out to one side. “Rarity, my favorite fashionista,” the tall, feline-looking Abyssinian purred in his honey-gold voice, affecting a hurt tone. “And here I thought I was forgiven for that series of unfortunate misunderstandings back in Klugetown.”
Rarity chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, you managed to make up for it,” she nodded. “But this is a surprise. I never expected to see you in Ponyville.”
“Just in the neighborhood,” Capper explained smoothly, tucking his top hat under one arm. Under the opera cloak, he still wore his signature red coat, though Rarity could tell that he’d had it expertly cleaned and mended since the last time they saw each other. “Thought I’d drop by, play tourist and see how everyone’s doin’, if you’re not too busy.”
Rarity hesitated, glancing at the position of the sun. Do I really have time for an unexpected guest? Finally, manners won out and she nodded. “Well, I am expecting somepony,” she admitted, “but I can certainly spare a few minutes for a friend. Please, come in.” She stepped aside, letting Capper step through the doorway.
Capper purred softly as he strolled into the shop with his usual easy confidence, his tail flicking behind him. He looked around, taking in the boutique with a discerning eye, his whiskers twitching with curiosity. “So, this is where your fashion magic all began,” he commented; as always, there seemed to be an amused lilt to his voice, as if he were in on a joke no one else knew. “I dropped by the Canterlot Carousel last time I was in the city. That Sassy Saddles has almost as good an eye as you.”
Rarity preened ever so slightly at the compliment, but waved a hoof in mock modesty as she closed the door. “Oh, you flatter me, Capper,” she demurred. “Sassy and I also got off to a bumpy start, but she’s been an absolute treasure since we worked out our differences.”
“Well, she’s got some mighty big horseshoes to fill,” Capper nodded. A glint of light caught his eye and he turned to see the display of Metal Tested’s chain jewelry in the window. “Hello…” He strolled over, leaning in for a closer look. “Nice little shinies, Rare. You outdid yourself this time.”
Rarity laughed softly. “While I’d love to take the credit for that little treasure trove, I’m afraid they were made by a new collaborator of mine,” she explained. “May I offer you some tea?” As she spoke, she started walking back toward her private workroom, where she kept a small magic-powered kettle for heating water and a tea service for entertaining clients.
“Catnip, if you got it,” Capper quipped. “I’ll give anything a try, though.” His eyes lingered with feline curiosity on the jewelry display for a few more moments, reaching out to flick at one of the hanging necklaces before turning to follow Rarity. “So, new collaborator, huh? Must be quite the talent to earn a spot in your shop. What’s their name?”
“His name is Metal Tested,” Rarity explained, her horn glowing as she set the kettle to boil and arranged the tea service and a tray of scones. She motioned Capper to a plush, comfortable chair. “He moved to Ponyville just recently; in fact, we only met the day before yesterday. I’m actually waiting for him so we can standardize a price list for his work.” She leveled Capper a pointed look. “And before you get any ideas, he is a friend and business partner, nothing more. I heard quite enough untoward suggestions from my friends at lunch, thank you very much.”
“Whoa, now!” Capper laughed, raising his paws in mock surrender. “No need for claws quite that quick, glamour girl. Can’t blame a cat for being curious.” Sweeping off his opera cloak, he hung it and his top hat on a coat stand before casually sprawling into the offered chair and making himself comfortable. “Why’s your fur so ruffled, though? Hittin’ a little too close?”
“Perhaps I’m just tired of hearing it,” Rarity said, shaking her head. “I don’t know why everypony I talk to insists on reading more into it than there is. Scone?” Her horn glowed again as she floated the tray of snacks up to her Abyssinian friend.
Capper chuckled, taking a scone with an exaggerated air of gratitude. “Maybe just to see you blush,” he teased. “You do wear flustered well.” He nibbled his scone, ears flicking playfully.
“I am not blushing!” Rarity protested, stealing a glance in the nearest mirror just to make sure it was true. Her cheeks did look a bit pinker than normal, but surely not for the reason Capper implied! It’s just the light , she told herself. Yes, just the light . Clearing her throat, she focused back on Capper, schooling her expression back into poised, friendly composure. “But enough about me right now, Capper. What about you? How have you been keeping yourself lately?”
Capper chuckled knowingly, but let the subject drop. “I’m a motivational speaker now,” he said, nibbling at his scone. “Had a tour in Las Pegasus recently, teaching ponies how to be as charming and persuasive as yours truly. After that, your Princess Luna decided she needed me for a special quest. Very hush-hush” He put a claw to his lips, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let’s just say she needed my…particular skillset for a delicate operation in a decidedly indelicate environment.”
Rarity’s lips curved in a wry smile. “With your sense for theatrics, perhaps acting would suit you better than motivational speaking,” she teased gently, though a flicker of pride passed through her heart at how the former con artist had risen above his Klugetown past. Perhaps, if Capper agreed, Rarity might include his story in a School of Friendship lesson about second chances.
“What? And go around pretending to be somecat other than my gorgeous self?” Capper put a paw to his chest in a mocking imitation of hurt feelings. “Rarity, I thought we were friends.”
The two of them shared a chuckle at Capper’s melodramatic tone, just as the tea kettle began to whistle. While Rarity spent the next few moments preparing the tea, Opalescence poked her head in curiously, unnoticed by either pony or Abyssinian. Her bright green eyes locked onto the flicking tip of Capper’s tail, a soft purr rumbling in her chest as she crouched down, her rear legs tensing. Just a few moments to get the timing right…and then she pounced, her seven-pound body colliding with the offending appendage in a flurry of needle-sharp claws and teeth.
“Ouch! What the-?” Capper jumped and yelped, his fur bristling as he looked down at the tiny assailant latched onto his tail. His initial surprise melted into a chuckle at her defiant gaze. “Well, now, who’s this little molly?” he asked, lowering a paw in an offering of truce. “You’ve got quite a grip, there, don’t you?”
Rarity couldn’t help chuckling at the former con artist’s momentary discomfort as she poured the tea. “That’s Opalescence,” she introduced her pet. Opalescence sniffed at Capper’s fingertip, her ears twitching as if weighing whether to accept the gesture. Finally, with queenly resignation, she let him rub between her ears, though she kept his tail held firmly under her front paws, her own flicking as if to remind him who was really in charge. “And I’ve found she has an excellent eye for scoundrels,” Rarity added teasingly. “You may want to be careful.”
“A scoundrel? Me?” Capper chuckled, accepting the delicate teacup Rarity floated over to him and glancing down at Opal. “You’ve got me all wrong, Miss Opal. I’m a gentletom now, through and through.” As if to prove his point, he let out a series of feline-sounding trills and chirps, the sounds strangely melodic and soothing.
Opalescence blinked, then tilted her head, looking up at him with a new mix of curiosity and suspicion. Her ears swiveled as if trying to decipher the sounds and her eyes narrowed slightly as she weighed whether the intruder in her domain might require further reprimand. Finally, though, she seemed to settle for holding his tail firmly between her front paws and grooming the tip with deliberate care.
Capper chuckled, sipping his tea and looking back at Rarity. “Looks like I’ve been accepted into the queen’s court,” he grinned. “Lucky me.”
“Lucky you, indeed,” Rarity smiled, taking a sip of her own tea. “Though I’m unsure if she’s bestowing you a privilege or simply trying to demonstrate the level of personal hygiene she expects the next time you visit.”
Capper raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Well, now, I’m honored to have my grooming standards evaluated by Ponyville’s premiere expert in elegance. And her unicorn friend, too, of course.” He raised his teacup to Rarity in a playful toast.
Rarity gave him a look of mock affront, but raised her own teacup with a wry smile. “I shall take that as the compliment it was almost intended to be.”
Capper chuckled, but his response was interrupted by another knock at the boutique door. His ears flicked and he glanced over his shoulder toward the main sales floor. “That your friend?” he asked, curiosity sparking in his tone.
“It may be,” Rarity said, taking a final sip of her tea and setting aside her teacup. “Please, excuse me for a moment.” Rising from her chair, she gave her mane one final toss and trotted out to answer the door, resolutely ignoring Capper’s low chuckle behind her.
This time, it was indeed Metal Tested waiting when Rarity opened the door. He nodded when he saw her, a slight, nervous smile tugging at his lips. “You didn’t give a specific time, so…” He shrugged slightly, rubbing the back of his neck with a forehoof. “I asked somepony when the school closed and figured a few hours’ leeway would be safe.”
Rarity’s own smile softened, warm and welcoming. “That’s quite alright, Metal Tested,” she said. “Come in, please.” As Rarity stood aside and Metal entered the store, she explained, “I was just having tea with another friend, but -”
“Oh…bad timing?” Metal interrupted worriedly, hesitating near the threshold. “I can come back…”
Rarity shook her head. “No, that’s quite alright,” she said, her tone reassuring. “He showed up unexpectedly while I was waiting for you. Please, come back to my private workroom; I’m sure he’d love to meet you.” Without waiting for a reply, she turned to lead the way.
Metal Tested lingered a moment, still looking doubtful, before dutifully falling into step behind Rarity. His gaze wandered, taking in the elegant details of the boutique’s displays, but inevitably landed on Rarity again as she moved ahead of him. Her every movement seemed measured for maximum poise and grace, and Metal couldn’t stop his eye from flicking-briefly, admiringly-to her hindquarters. He quickly averted his gaze, his ears tilting back and cheeks flushing in embarrassment. With new determination, he focused on the ponikins and clothes surrounding them rather than the beautiful mare in front of him.
Rarity caught the glance as she subtly glanced back to ensure Metal was following and a faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She was more than accustomed to the occasional admiring look—she always strived to look her best, and few stallions could be called subtle—but she appreciated Metal’s quick attempt to compose himself. His shyness and determination to remain respectful lent a certain charm to his demeanor.
Slowing her pace slightly, she lifted her head with a touch of pride and gave her tail the slightest of twitches, a gentle, teasing motion that could easily pass as incidental. Her expression remained perfectly composed as she glanced back again, eyes sparkling with subtle amusement and curiosity.
Metal’s ears pinned back as his blush deepened, though whether it was due to her perfectly-timed tail movement or his own wandering thoughts, Rarity couldn’t be sure. Still, a small, private smile graced her lips as she turned her attention back forward. There was something undeniably endearing about Metal’s earnestness. Of course, this was just a bit of mild, casual flirtation, all in good fun, not a true sign of romantic interest…no matter how she imagined Rainbow Dash laughing about it if she knew.
“Oh, Capper!” Rarity chirped as she led Metal Tested back into her private workroom. Capper still lounged in his chair, sipping his tea, and glanced over at Rarity’s greeting. “This is Metal Tested, the new artisan I spoke of,” Rarity introduced the stallion behind her, stepping aside to let Metal enter past her. “Metal, this is Capper. My friends and I met him during our…eventful journey beyond Equestria to seek help during the Storm King’s invasion.” She kept her tone light, delicately omitting the exact circumstances of their meeting.
Metal Tested paused when he saw Capper, blinking. Rarity saw his ears tilt back slightly, his eyes drifting upward as if trying to recall something long forgotten. “Um…Sra-khara rrani mi lunara?” he said nervously as he bowed his head politely to Capper, the phrase coming out as a series of hisses, chirps and soft growls.
Capper and Rarity both blinked in surprise, their ears tilting forward curiously. A heartbeat later, Capper broke out in a grin, nodding his head to Metal. “Mia-shara! She-rrhanya?” he replied before looking back at Rarity with amusement. “You didn’t tell me your new jeweler spoke ‘Sinnian, Rarity.”
“I didn’t know,” Rarity chuckled, shaking her head. “What did you two just say?”
Metal Tested rubbed the back of his neck again, blushing and tilting his ears back bashfully. “I only know a little,” he explained. “One of my parents’ Border Guard postings for a few years when I was a kid was down in the Bone-Dry Desert, near the Abyssinian border. The base was outside a trade oasis and I learned just enough to get by.” He glanced at Capper. “I was trying to say, ‘the silent guardian travels under the moon,’” he continued his explanation, addressing Rarity though his eyes were still on Capper. “It’s supposed to be a greeting between travellers.”
“Mm-hm,” Capper nodded. “Bit formal, more like something you hear in a story or between nobles than on the road, but it works.” He sipped his tea, his whiskers twitching with amusement. “You came down a little hard on the growl, though. Sounded like you were bringing up a hairball,” he teased.
Metal’s blush deepened. “I haven’t spoken Abyssinian since I was ten,” he muttered. “We’re probably lucky I didn’t end up insulting your grandmother by accident.”
“Hey, it’s more than I hear most ponies trying,” Capper chuckled, giving a dismissive wave with a paw. “Props for that. Back in Klugetown, we had so many creatures speaking so many languages, I could go through half a dozen in one conversation.” He glanced at Rarity with an easy smirk. “And to answer you, Miss Purple Mane Perfection, I was saying, ‘Hi, how’s it going?’”
Rarity shook her head. “Well, I must say, this adds a fascinating new twist to what I know of you, Metal,” she smiled, motioning him to a seat before retaking her own. “Traveller across Equestria, artisan and now a scholar of languages. You’ll turn out to be an international spy next.” She chuckled with kind amusement at the thought of the shy, sensitive pony taking on such a role. “Would you like some tea and scones?”
Metal Tested’s ears flicked embarrassedly as he took the offered chair. “Yes, please. But really, I’m nothing as special as that,” he said. “I just picked up a few local phrases wherever we went. Ornithian was actually the hardest; with its tonality, it’s almost sung as much as spoken, and…” He shrugged. “Well, I’m pretty tone-deaf.”
“You did well enough yesterday when we were setting up the display,” Rarity pointed out as she poured Metal a cup of tea and floated it over to him along with the plate of scones.
Metal shrugged again, taking the teacup and a scone in his own telekinesis, his eyes not quite meeting Rarity’s, as was his wont. “I don’t honestly know what happened then,” he admitted. “I’d never done a number before…well, not one that wasn’t just in my head.” He gave Rarity one of his characteristic shy smiles. “Maybe your voice brought it out of me.”
“What’s this about a number, now?” Capper asked as he nibbled his scone, green eyes darting back and forth between the two ponies with feline curiosity.
Rarity chuckled, the sound as delicate as her tea service. “Oh, Capper, you know how it is when the music comes up and simply sweeps you away. Metal and I were arranging his jewelry display yesterday, and the moment carried us into a delightful duet.”
Capper’s grin widened as he leaned back in his chair, his tail flicking with a flourish. “Oh, yeah, I know all about that,” he purred, his tail flicking and tugging gently against Opalescence’s grip. “A touch of flair, a bit of a beat, and suddenly you got the whole city singing along.” He shook his head, his grin taking on an ironic cast. “Hope this little duet of yours hit all the right notes. I don’t see the one I sang for you and the others back in Klugetown making any ‘Best of’ albums.”
“That sounds like a story,” Metal spoke up, sipping his tea and glancing cautiously between Capper and Rarity. “What happened?”
Capper shrugged, brushing some scone crumbs from his lapels. “I was in deep with some bad creatures back in Klugetown,” he explained frankly, glancing at Rarity. “Let’s just say when I first met the Fashion Femme and her friends, I saw an opportunity to get out of a tight spot-at their expense.” His grin had a touch of ruefulness. “Not my proudest moment, but a cat’s gotta start somewhere.”
Rarity shook her head; she hadn’t intended to bring up Capper’s past. “You had your flaws, Capper, as we all do, but you managed to make up for your misdeeds,” she interjected gracefully. “He tried to mislead Tempest Shadow when she was pursuing us,” she explained to Metal, “and after escaping her, he helped us infiltrate Canterlot to rescue Twilight from the Storm King.”
“Your fault, really, Rare,” Capper smirked slightly, his whiskers twitching. “Nothing came free in Klugetown ‘til you did these little beauties.” He fingered the gold buttons that still decorated the lapels of his red coat, despite the further repair work he’d had done on it.
Metal Tested watched the interplay between the two, his head tilting slightly as he tried to sort through the layers of humor and history. “I didn’t know any of that,” he said. “The papers talked about you being helped by Capper and those air pirates, but they didn’t talk about how you met them.”
“What about you, M.T.?” Capper asked, taking a sip of his tea. “What’d you do during the Storm King’s invasion? Any grand adventures or close calls under your saddle?”
Metal frowned, lowered his gaze as his hoof pensively traced the edge of his teacup. “I…wasn’t in Canterlot,” he said slowly. “I was farther north, near the Crystal Mountains. The Storm King’s army never made it that far.” He shook his head, ears angling back slightly. “We heard that something bad happened at the Friendship Festival that Princess Twilight put together, but by the time we knew it was an invasion, it was already over. Everything I know of it comes from books and newspapers, or occasionally talking to ponies who were there.”
“Was that where your family was stationed?” Rarity asked, sipping her tea.
Metal’s shoulders tensed at the question and his hoof stilled on the rim of the teacup. He quickly shook his head, looking into his tea as if it held the secrets of the universe. “No,” he said quietly. “I wasn’t living with my family then. It’s…one of those things I don’t like talking about.” He glanced sidelong at Rarity. “I wish I’d had the chance to be as brave as you and your friends, taking on an army single-hoofed.”
Rarity’s expression softened and she waved a hoof dismissively, brushing aside the compliment. “Hardly bravery, darling…at least, it didn’t feel that way to me at the time,” she said with a small smile. “We just did what we had to for Equestria. For our home.” Her smile took on a wry cast and she chuckled softly. “In honesty, it was more like a long, chaotic scramble, and I was worried about my coiffure the whole time. I hate epic adventures.”
“I happen to think you all made the unkempt thing look gorgeous,” Capper interjected smoothly, a glint of humor in his eye. “Even if you did look ready to keel over before I stepped in to save the day.”
“Hmph!” Rarity sighed dramatically, though her lips twitched in amusement. “Still combining modesty and charm, I see.”
“It’s how I make my living,” Capper shamelessly agreed with a sage nod. “So, M.T., you said you’ve been all over. What kinda stories you got?”
Metal blushed, nibbling at his scone. “No stories, really,” he said. “Nothing very interesting, at least. I…” He glanced at Rarity, then took a deep breath, bracing himself. “With my parents being transferred for the Border Guard every few years, I got good at creature-watching…trying to learn what I could about wherever we went.”
“You ever try Abyssinian pastries while you were down there?” Capper asked. “Your pony pies aren’t bad, but we made pastries an art form.”
Metal smiled slightly.“Yeah…the pastries were one of the best things about living down there,” he admitted wistfully. “My favorite were the Abyssinamon rolls. There was this one Abyssinian baker who lived in the oasis…” His voice grew warm with nostalgia as his gaze turned inward, lost in long-ago memories. “Her name was Shiara. She was my parents’ friend more than mine, but any time I came to the market alone, she gave me an Abyssinamon roll and wouldn’t let me pay. She said I had an honest face.”
As he returned to the present, a faint blush crept onto Metal’s cheeks, and his ears tilted back slightly. “Looking back, I think I had a bit of a crush on her, even if I didn’t really know what the feelings were at the time. I remember I felt about ten hooves taller every time she smiled at me, especially when she taught me some of the language.” His smile lingered a moment, though his eyes still seemed somewhat distant, as if weighing the rare sweetness of that memory against something unspoken.
“Well, that certainly sounds like a crush to me,” Rarity chuckled kindly, nibbling at her own scone.
“Not that anyone could blame you,” Capper grinned. “We Abyssinians are a lissome and graceful species, poetry in motion in everything we do.”
Finally bored with her new plaything, Opalescence released Capper’s tail and walked over to sniff at Metal’s hoof before standing on her hind legs, reaching up as far as she could to lean her front paws against his chair and stretch. Metal smiled down at Rarity’s cat, extending a forehoof to rub between her ears, which she allowed with queenly tolerance. “Yeah, well…I got sick once when I ate one of her meat pastries by accident,” he said. “I think that put an end to any early romantic notions I might have had.”
“Ooh, yeah, you ponies would want to watch out for that,” Capper nodded. “Couldn’t have been easy, bein’ herbivores down in the Bone-Dry Desert.”
Metal shrugged. “The oasis made it easier,” he said. “But, yeah, the base had to have a lot of food shipped in. There weren’t many other ponies my age, either, so…” He shrugged again, nibbling his scone. “This is really good, Rarity.”
Rarity inclined her head gracefully at the compliment. “Thank you, darling. I’m glad you’re enjoying them.” She sipped her tea, though her eyes lingered on Metal. The slight hesitation in his movements, the way his words often trailed off, deflecting when he touched on subjects he didn’t like to discuss…he often seemed caught between wanting to open up and keeping his guard firmly in place.
Capper leaned back in his chair, his tail flicking lazily. “Sounds like you had to learn to entertain yourself, without other ponies your age.” His tone was light, but his sharp green eyes didn’t miss Metal’s discomfort.
“Yeah,” Metal replied, his voice quiet. “Like I said, creature-watching helped. It was just easier to be the quiet one in the background. Safer.” His smile reappeared, but didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Well, dear,” Rarity said, setting her tea down with a gentle clink of cup on saucer, “I hope you can eventually learn to step into the foreground.” Her tone was firm, but kind. “You’ve seen how your work is already turning heads in my boutique, and you have every reason to be proud of it.”
Metal glanced at her, his smile warming slightly. “Thanks, Rarity,” he murmured. “That…that means a lot.”
Capper finished the last of his tea and set his cup down. “Well, as much as I’d like to stay and bask in such delightful company, I think it’s time for me to scat,” he said, rising from his chair with a stretch and smoothing the lapels of his red coat. “Can’t be hogging all you lovebirds’ time, now, can I?”
“Capper!” Rarity snapped, her eyes flashing as heat rose to her cheeks. From the corner of her eye, she saw Metal’s jaw drop, his own visage turning an alarming shade of crimson. “That is not funny,” she sharply scolded the former con artist, “and you are embarrassing my friend!”
Capper chuckled as he retrieved his things from the coat stand, sweeping his opera cloak around his shoulders with a theatrical flourish. “But if I didn’t say it, I wouldn’t have gotten to see your lovely blush one last time before I go,” he teased. “But I want to drop in on Pinkie Pie before it gets too late, and you said earlier that you and Metal need to work on pricing his jewelry, so I’ll take my leave.” He glanced at Metal as he set his top hat on his head at a jaunty angle, tipping the stallion a wink. "Tasha-mihra sha'rra—rrha'ni khatasha!"
Metal blinked, his ears flicking forward over his lingering blush. “Um…thanks, Capper. Nice to meet you.”
Rarity shook her head as she rose from her seat to walk Capper out. “Honestly, sometimes I wonder at my taste in friends,” she murmured to the tall Abyssinian as she led him out through the store, her tone carrying both exasperation and affection. “First Rainbow Dash and Starlight Glimmer, and now you…”
“I just calls ‘em like I sees ‘em, glamour girl,” Capper grinned roguishly. “Plus, it’s too much fun making you blush.”
“I am NOT blushing,” Rarity protested half-heartedly as she reached the door, telekinetically opening it to let Capper leave. “What did you say to him, anyway?” she asked curiously. “That last part, in Abyssinian.”
“Oh, just a traveler’s blessing,” Capper replied breezily, stepping out the door and then turning back to tip his hat to Rarity one last time. His smile softened, a rare moment of sincerity slipping through his usual playful demeanor. “It really was good to see you, Rarity. I’ll try to write ahead next time, instead of just dropping in.”
Rarity felt her own amused annoyance warming at the genuine note in Capper’s voice. She doubted he’d had many such heartfelt moments in the past, and she hoped they would become more common as time went on. “It was good to see you, as well, Capper,” she said, standing up on her hind legs and wrapping her forelegs around his waist in a brief, but heartfelt hug. “I hope your motivational-speaking career continues to thrive.”
“With a voice like mine? How can it not?” Capper grinned, returning Rarity’s embrace, then stepping back as she released him. “Take care of yourself, glamour girl, and your new friend in there.” He glanced back toward Rarity’s private workroom. “Something tells me he needs it.”
Rarity chuckled. “I’ll let him decide if he wants to tell you his story one day, but yes, I feel much the same.” With a sigh, she stepped back. “Take care of yourself, Capper.”
“Always,” Capper replied, then turned and began walking down the street, whistling a sprightly tune. Rarity recognized it as the song he had used to get her friends and herself to trust him back in Klugetown, before he’d revealed his true colors…or realized they weren’t his true colors after all.
With a sigh and a shake of her head, Rarity closed the door and turned to walk back to her workroom. Metal Tested was waiting, and they still had much to discuss.
Chained Hearts - A Love Story
Chapter 6: Of Sugar and Sanctuary
The next day, Metal Tested sighed as he crossed another listing off his newspaper, tucking the now overly-marked page back into his saddlebag. Ponyville was living up to its reputation as the friendliest town in Equestria, but finding a place to live was still proving to be a challenge. It wasn’t just a matter of friendliness; Metal had been around enough to know that welcoming smiles didn’t necessarily make for good long-term relationships, especially if they were living in close quarters. He needed the right kind of landlord, somepony willing to give him a chance without looking too closely.
The distant chime of a public clock tower broke into his thoughts, drawing his gaze upward. Ten o’clock. Too early for lunch, but he already felt drained. A new round of knocking on doors, facing polite but guarded expressions, and answering well-meaning questions sounded exhausting. Rarity had told him while they worked on his price list the previous evening that she would be splitting her day today, teaching classes at the School of Friendship in the morning and opening the Carousel Boutique at one o’clock, after lunch. Right now, that left him at loose ends for three hours.
Metal exhaled and glanced down at his saddlebag as he wandered through the Ponyville marketplace, the newspaper inside crumpled from repeated handling. He had time to kill before the next round of rejections. His mind drifted—to the night before, to the Carousel Boutique, to the unicorn who had thrown him a lifeline. Rarity…
Just the thought of her was enough to bring a slight warmth to Metal’s cheeks. He couldn’t help but feel like a stuttering schoolcolt around her sometimes, especially when she caught him off guard with that elegant laugh or a dazzling smile.Yesterday, there had been a moment—an incidental twitch of her tail, graceful even in its spontaneity, that had flustered him more than he cared to admit. The accidental glimpse it afforded left him scrambling to maintain his composure, even if she didn’t seem to notice and her unshakeable poise helped smooth out his own awkwardness.
But it was the way she spoke about his craft that left a deeper mark. She didn’t just see his work as products to sell—she saw the artistry behind it, the craftsponyship that made it unique. That was what quietly stunned him—the way she made him feel like his creations mattered. She made him feel, for the first time in too long, that his work might have worth outside his own mind. The way she considered his pieces, the same way she considered her own designs, was…well, it was inspiring. And humbling.
Every satisfied review he’d read about her boutiques said the same thing: Rarity made her customers feel like they mattered, like they were more than the bits they spent. She had a gift for seeing ponies as individuals; now, she was turning that same perceptiveness on him. It made him feel seen in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying. Like Sew Sweet.
The name hit him like a hoof to the gut and Metal felt his body tense, his breath catching in his chest, before he shoved the comparison away. Rarity’s the employer and you’re the employee, he reminded himself firmly. She’s not Sew Sweet. She’ll never be Sew Sweet. Keep things professional. His sigh was heavy as he touched his tie, the smooth pattern under his hoof offering only a cold comfort. I don’t even have the right to think of her as anything more than a friend.
Metal gave his head a slight shake to dispel his lingering thoughts about Rarity. I could head back to the Meadow, he thought. Build up some more inventory. After a moment, though, he frowned and shook his head again, this time in negation. His supply of jump rings was getting low after putting in a full day at the Carousel Boutique on his first day and several hours’ work in his hotel room on each of the last two nights, as opposed to his time on the street when he might be able to work a few minutes or an hour here or there amongst the struggle to survive. Rarity had agreed to order more rings when they were working on his price list last night, but the resupply wouldn’t arrive for a couple of days. He didn’t want to end up at the boutique with nothing to do.
The marketplace carried on around Metal, oblivious to his tangled thoughts. A sudden wave of warm, spiced air wrapped around him and he blinked, ears twitching as he looked up. Nearby, he spotted a building that resembled nothing so much as a whimsical multistory gingerbread house from a fairy tale. A dangling sign projecting from one corner of the building displayed a lovingly-rendered cupcake.
Sugarcube Corner . Metal recognized it from his Ponyville guidebook. Ponies trickled in and out, enough to show the famous bakery was doing a bustling business, and the warm scent of cinnamon brought to mind Shiara, the Abyssinian baker he had spoken to Rarity and Capper about. His stomach gave a quiet, but insistent rumble, despite the early hour. Maybe something sweet could help.
Metal slowed as he approached, catching a glimpse of ponies chatting over their snacks through the window. The scent alone was enough to stir a pang of nostalgia—not a specific memory, but the idea of comfort. It’s just a snack . No big deal. He adjusted his saddlebag, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.
The scent of fresh pastries wrapped around Metal like a warm blanket the moment he walked through the door. The air was rich with cinnamon, vanilla, and butter, and the gentle hum of morning customers chatting over their purchases filled the space. He exhaled slowly, feeling some of the tension drain from his neck and shoulders.
“Hi, Metal!”
Before Metal could fully register the voice, Pinkie Pie popped up behind the counter, beaming at him. A young alligator, about three hooves long, draped languidly over her withers, gumming toothlessly at her puffy cotton-candy mane. “What brings you here? Wait, wait, let me guess—oooh, are you here for a ‘Congratulations-On-Another-Day-In-Ponyville’ Cupcake? Or maybe a ‘Surprise Mystery Filling’ Muffin?”
Metal blinked. He knew from his Ponyville guidebook that Pinkie worked here, but even if she wasn’t pulling a party cannon out of nowhere (yet), her sheer energy was still a bit overwhelming, even for a second meeting. “Um—”
“No, wait, I’ll get this!” Pinkie’s muzzle scrunched up cutely as she twisted and turned her head in thought. Suddenly, she gasped, her blue eyes widening as if she’d just unraveled the secrets of the universe. “I know! You need a ‘Pick-Me-Up’ Pastry!”
“Uh-” Metal began to respond, but before he could string together an answer, the sound of swinging doors interrupted him.
A comfortably plump, blue-coated earth mare in early middle age entered from the kitchen, balancing a tray of frosted cupcakes on her back. Her pink-streaked mane was swept up in a bun that managed to be practical and still resemble a cupcake topping, and the warm scent of fresh buttercream trailed behind her. “Oh, Pinkie, dear, don’t overwhelm the poor stallion,” the blue mare chided gently, sliding the tray onto the counter with practiced ease.
Metal straightened slightly as the mare turned to him with a welcoming smile. “I’m Mrs. Cake, one of the proprietors,” she said warmly. “Pinkie mentioned a new stallion in town working with Rarity—a quiet type with a unique sense of style.” Her eyes flicked to his chainmail tie with an approving twinkle. “I’d say that fits you to a T.”
Metal hesitated before offering a small nod. “Oh—um, thank you, ma’am. I’m Metal Tested.”
Mrs. Cake chuckled, waving a hoof dismissively. “Oh, none of that ‘ma’am’ business, dearie—I hear enough of that from my little troublemakers. It’s nice to meet you.”
As if on cue, a small, golden-brown pegasus colt poked his head around the counter, his messy wings twitching as he took in Metal with wide, curious brown eyes. “New pony?” he asked, tilting his head.
A blond unicorn filly with a sky-blue bow and eyes appeared beside him, mimicking his posture. “New pony,” she echoed with a sage nod.
Mrs. Cake sighed in fond exasperation and scooped both foals up with a smooth, practiced motion. “That’s right, sweeties,” she said, settling them onto her back as easily as if they were ingredients on a tray. “This is Mr. Metal Tested—he’s new in town. And these two little scamps are Pound Cake,” she pointed to the pegasus colt, “and his twin sister, Pumpkin Cake.” She nodded to the unicorn filly. “They just turned three, and before you ask, yes, they’re Carrot’s and mine. I can give the full genealogy later if you really want to know.” Her amusedly resigned tone suggested she’d heard such questions many times before.
Pumpkin’s horn sparked faintly as she pointed at Metal’s chainmail tie. “Shiny,” she murmured in quiet awe.
Metal shifted slightly, feeling an odd mix of awkwardness and amusement. “Uh… thanks?”
Pound flared his wings, puffing out his tiny chest. “I got teef!” he announced proudly.
Pumpkin, not to be outdone, opened her mouth to show her own baby teeth, then added, “I got magic! ”
Mrs. Cake shook her head, smiling. “Yes, yes, you’re both very impressive, but it’s time to go back upstairs,” she said, starting toward the staircase. “Nap time soon.”
Both foals groaned dramatically. “Not sleepy,” Pound whined. Pumpkin also opened her mouth to protest, but ended up yawning instead, then blinking in surprise at her own body’s betrayal.
Mrs. Cake simply kissed the tops of their heads. “That’s what you always say. Say bye-bye to Mr. Metal.”
“Bye, Metal!” both twins waved as she carried them upstairs.
Metal let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The warmth of the exchange settled over him, leaving him with an odd but not unwelcome feeling…similar to the strange comfort he felt around Rarity, but subtly softer, more domestic. Is this what it’s like to belong? he wondered.
“Aww, they like you!” Pinkie beamed. “The Cakes are the best, huh? They took me in right when I left the rock farm, when I was a teeny-tiny twinkie Pinkie! Well, not literally a twinkie, but—oh! Speaking of sweets and feeling better, you know what else helps when you're feeling blah?”
Metal tilted his head. “Um…a ‘Pick-Me-Up’ Pastry?” he guessed, repeating Pinkie’s earlier phrase.
“Hey, great idea!” Pinkie agreed as if Metal had come up with it himself, nodding so enthusiastically that her alligator slipped off her withers. Unfazed, it simply dangled from her mane by its mouth, blinking slowly. “You’ve got that ‘thinking too hard’ look on your face,” the pink pony explained knowingly. “You look like your thoughts are going all ‘agh!’ and ‘urgh!’ and ‘orgble!’” As she spoke, she twisted her own face into various comically uncomfortable expressions as though it were made of rubber.
Metal blinked, then snorted softly, amused in spite of himself. “Well… you’re not wrong.”
“I knew it!” Pinkie crowed. “Lucky for you, Doctor Pinkie has just the prescription for what ails you!” As she bent down to check the display case, Metal instinctively glanced away, focusing on the menu board and fiddling with his tie with a forehoof.
“Aha!” Pinkie popped up a moment later, bearing a chocolate croissant wrapped in wax paper. “Here ya go, Metal!” she enthused, slipping the pastry into a small paper bag. “Flaky! Chocolatey! Guaranteed to make over-complicated thoughts at least seventy percent less worried and twisty—eighty if combined with some fuzz therapy!”
Metal paused in the act of floating a few bits from his saddlebag to the counter. “Fuzz therapy?” he asked, raising a brow.
“Yup!” Pinkie nodded sagely. “Sweet, delicious pastries are great, but you, my friend, look in need of a serious dose of floof!”
Metal hesitated as he placed his money down. “...Pinkie, I feel like you’re speaking Ponish, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Pinkie let out a dramatic gasp, clutching her chest as if he’d just insulted her entire baking lineage down to the twelfth generation. “Metal! Do you mean to tell me you don’t know about the life-changing magic of Sweet Feather Sanctuary!?”
Metal’s brow furrowed. “That’s the animal sanctuary Fluttershy founded, right?” he ventured. “I mean, I’ve read about it in my Ponyville guidebook…”
Pinkie reeled back, eyes wide, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks. “Read about it? READ about it!?” she shrieked. “That’s like reading about cake instead of eating it!”
She threw her forehooves skyward, wobbling on her hind legs as though struggling to balance under the sheer weight of Metal’s blasphemy. “You gotta experience the floof! The fuzzies! The adorable little paws and hooves and wings and snouts and tiny little toe beans!” Each word was punctuated with wildly exaggerated gestures, ending in a dramatic flourish so intense that she nearly toppled over backward.
Metal instinctively took a step back, his ears flattening against his head as if he could physically brace himself against the hurricane of Pinkie’s energy. His chest tightened, and for one wild moment, he wished desperately for a hole to open up and swallow him whole. “I-I thought the sanctuary was private, not a zoo!” he blurted out as Pinkie Pie finally paused to draw a breath. “Fluttershy wouldn’t want a bunch of strangers traipsing through and bothering the animals…”
Pinkie froze mid-wobble—then snapped back to normal as if nothing had happened, dropping onto all fours so abruptly that her alligator gave a slow blink of mild protest. “Ohhh, you’ve got one of theOLD guidebooks,” she nodded sagely, as if Metal had just uncovered an ancient secret. “Well, you’re not wrong, but you’re not really right either. Fluttershy set up walking paths and started letting ponies take tours a few months ago. She has really strict rules about bothering the animals, but she talks to them, so it’s totally okay if they come up to you!”
She grinned. “It’s so cute , watching the little baby animals playing together! And I think she’s working there this morning, so you can get another autograph for your Friendship Journal!”
Metal exhaled slowly, his thoughts still whirling from Pinkie’s whiplash transition from overenthusiastic recommender to informative tour guide. He had always found a quiet solace in the company of animals that seemed to elude him around most ponies. They didn’t pry, didn’t judge—only cared about how you treated them. Maybe a visit to Fluttershy’s sanctuary was what he needed to help his mind settle after the cyclone of events the past few days.
Still…was this really something he should do? It felt…indulgent, like something meant for ponies who actually belonged here. “I…” He hesitated, doubts still gnawing at him. What if he made a bad first impression? What if Fluttershy, with her natural empathy, saw too much?
“Uhp!” Pinkie Pie interrupted Metal’s chain of thought. “I know that look, too!”
Metal flinched slightly. “Um…you do?”
Pinkie nodded sagely. “You’re thinking, ‘Wowzies, I might have another chance to meet a pony I’ve read a really really lot about, but what if she doesn’t like me?’ Am I right?” She grinned playfully.
Metal stared at her, vaguely unnerved by how easily she had pinned down his thoughts. “...You are frighteningly good at that.”
Pinkie beamed. “Years of finding the perfect pastries and party themes!”
“Well…you’re not wrong,” Metal admitted. “The way I reacted to your…your party at the boutique…meeting new ponies has always scared me a little.”
Pinkie’s playful smile softened. “Relaaax, Metal-Petal-Fo-Fetal,” she said comfortingly, reaching across the counter to pat him on the shoulder. “Fluttershy likes everypony, unless you’re a meanie…and she even gives meanies a chance!”
With her free hoof, she pointed out toward the street beyond the shop door. “Now, what you do is go down this street, take a left at the windmill, a right at the park, then go in a northerly-south direction until you see the nicest, most peacefulest-relaxingest place you’ve ever seen! If you run into the Everfree Forest, you’ve gone too far, but if you see a bear giving a bunny a back massage, you know you’re in the right place.”
Metal blinked. “...A bear giving a bunny a back massage?”
“Yup!” Pinkie nodded. “Angel Bunny has, like, a VIP spa membership there.”
Metal wasn’t sure what to make of that, but at this point, he decided it was easier to just roll with it. “Right,” he said, shifting his saddlebag to a more comfortable position. “Thanks, Pinkie. And, um, thanks for the croissant.”
“You betcha! Enjoy the floof!” Pinkie called after him as he turned toward the door.
Metal paused just outside the shop door, telekinetically pulling the chocolate croissant from the wax-paper bag and nibbling at one pointed end. Despite the way Pinkie’s boundless energy and cheerfulness made his head spin, he felt somewhat…lighter than he had before.
Still, he hesitated. The sanctuary sounded wonderful, but doubts gnawed at him. Maybe I SHOULD just head back to the Meadow and work, he thought, then exhaled through his nose. No. If he ran out of materials, he’d just end up pacing in his hotel room until the boutique opened.
Metal sighed, adjusting his saddlebag again. If nothing else, he could at least take Pinkie’s advice and see the sanctuary for himself. The croissant’s flaky warmth lingered on his tongue—small, fleeting, but still real. Maybe, just maybe, he could let himself have this, too.
Metal paused at the crest of a low hill, his breath hitching at the sight below. Sweet Feather Sanctuary stretched before him like something from a dream—lush, vibrant, and alive in a way that felt almost surreal. A small forest bordered the little valley, letting the animals come and go as they pleased, and a gentle waterfall tumbled from an artificial rock face, its sparkling waters feeding a pond before trickling into a winding stream. Trees, some outfitted with climbing platforms and rope bridges, dotted the landscape, providing shade and shelter. Open meadows of soft grass stretched in between, offering ample space for creatures to lounge, play, or simply exist in peace.
A pink flamingo stood on one leg in the pond with a kind of awkward grace, its vibrant feathers catching the sunlight in flashes of coral and rose. Nearby, a bear dozed contentedly in a hammock strung between two palm trees, paws twitching slightly in its sleep. All around, creatures of every kind roamed, played, or napped in the warm sunshine. Despite the open, unrestricted design of the sanctuary, predators and prey coexisted in remarkable harmony, as if under some unspoken truce.
Metal took a slow breath, drinking in the atmosphere. For all its openness, the sanctuary had a stillness to it—an unforced peace. The animals didn’t seem penned in, yet they remained, as if bound not by walls or fences, but by trust.
At the entrance, Metal inserted a few bits into the ticket machine and retrieved the small paper slip it dispensed. Tucking the ticket carefully into his saddlebag, he started down the roped-off path, his ears twitching at the medley of sounds—chirping birds, rustling leaves, the gentle babble of the stream. A pair of fox kits tumbled playfully just beyond the path’s edge, their reddish fur gleaming in the sunlight as they wrestled and pounced.
Nearby, a jackalope grazed under a shady tree, its long ears twitching and swiveling to follow every sound. Its antlers were mismatched, one a normal antelope antler, the other strangely twisted and prongless. Higher up, a raven perched on a sturdy branch, its black feathers gleaming with an oil-slick sheen. Beside it, a dark brown Somnambulan bat hung upside-down, its leathery wings tucked snugly around its body; a large white patch on its jaw gave it the appearance of wearing a masked cowl. Both creatures watched Metal with curious intensity.
The raven suddenly leaned forward, its beady eyes fixed on him as it croaked out a single word: “Shiny!”
Metal blinked, then chuckled softly, glancing down at his chainmail tie and belt. “Looks like we’re establishing a theme here,” he murmured before looking back up at the bird. “Not for you, though. Mine.”
The raven cawed, then shifted its weight, letting its body swing upside-down beside the bat. The bat turned its head toward its new dangling companion, sniffing and licking at the raven as though greeting an old friend. On the ground, the jackalope sat up on its haunches, watching Metal with oddly intelligent yellow-and-red eyes. Now that it wasn’t grazing, Metal could see that it had one overgrown snaggletooth hanging almost over its chin, giving it a somewhat comical appearance.
Chuckling at the animals’ antics, Metal turned away to continue down the path, only to be drawn up short by a smooth, amused male voice saying, “And what have we here? A little lost knight, wandering in search of a worthy quest?”
Metal stiffened, glancing around. He didn’t see anypony nearby; only the animals. The raven released its hold on the branch next to the bat and twisted in the air, fluttering its wings to land upright on a lower branch. “Who’s there?” he called, trying to keep his voice steady.
After a few moments of silence, Metal glanced up at the raven. “Was that you?” he wondered aloud; he’d read that ravens were good mimics when they wanted to be, and Rarity had told him that animals Fluttershy took care of acquired unusual intelligence.
The voice came again, even though the raven’s beak remained closed. “Oh, sure, credit the bird with the intelligent commentary. Surely it couldn’t have been your imagination. That would just be crazy .”
Metal whirled around in a full circle, startled. “Who said that?” he demanded, his ears pinning back as he looked around for the source of the voice. His horn glowed, surrounding his chainmail belt in an aura of his telekinetic magic.
“Oh, ho! Preparing to do battle with the fearsome fuzzy friends who’ve taken up residence here?” the voice chuckled with mocking amusement. “I mean, I suppose I can’t entirely blame you…there’s one bunny who can be quite the little gremlin when he doesn’t get his way.”
Metal’s ears flicked. He followed the voice downward—toward the jackalope. It wasn’t just watching him anymore. Its mouth moved. Its voice—calm, taunting, undeniably sentient—drifted up to him. “Still, jumping to fight-or-flight so quickly? What war zone did you come from?”
Metal’s jaw slackened and legs tensed, and he shook his head. “This is impossible,” he muttered. “Jackalopes don’t talk. Mimic and sing, maybe, but not talk.”
“Oh-ho, and a scholar of nature as well!” the jackalope said, clapping its front paws. “Well, I suppose such a discerning mind does deserve a little credit. Just a skosh.” With an expression suspiciously like a smirk (Could jackalopes smirk? Metal wondered), the antlered hare extended a front paw and snapped its toes with a flourish.
There was a flash of light and the jackalope twisted and elongated like taffy, stretching into a serpentine form almost three times Metal’s height. Feathers, fur and scales blended chaotically across its mismatched body parts…two separate wings, one a bat’s, one a bird’s, a snakelike tail with a white tuft of hair at the end, a goat leg and dragon leg, a lion paw and eagle talon, a head somewhere between a pony’s and a goat’s with heavy white eyebrows, a stiff black mane and a caprine beard. The only things that remained the same from the jackalope form were the mismatched horns, yellow-and-red eyes and oversized snaggletooth.
“Discord,” Metal gasped, his magic faltering as he took a step back.
“Give the stallion a prize!” Discord declaimed as he struck a dramatic pose, a sash bearing the golden phrase “Best Chaos Spirit” appearing draped over his elongated torso while confetti rained from nowhere and a trumpet fanfare sounded. “Lord of Chaos, Prince of Pandemonium, Sultan of Shenanigans, Overlord of the Unexpected! And you would be…?” The tall draconequus leaned close, manifesting a pair of half-glasses to examine Metal Tested more closely as the rest of his accoutrements vanished back into the ether.
Metal took another step back, his breath hitching and speeding up against his will. He’d read about the capricious demigod, of course--everypony had--and he couldn’t suppress a feeling of awestruck terror. On the one hoof, Discord had usurped Celestia and Luna’s rule early in their reign, turning Equestria into a wasteland of chaos. Not even the basic rules of reality functioned consistently until the Princesses found and used the Elements of Harmony to petrify him—the first time the Elements had ever been wielded. On the other hoof, the Friendship Journal described how, over a year after his escape and re-defeat at the hooves of the Element Bearers, Fluttershy had managed to (mostly) reform him by showing him the power of friendship.
But then, there was Lord Tirek’s magic-devouring rampage through Equestria.
Metal’s breath caught as an all-too-vivid memory surged forward, unbidden.
Light—too bright—flashed against high, confining walls. The air, naturally cool, but made warm and stale by too many bodies in close quarters, stirred as dozens of stallions turned toward the flash.
Two figures. One massive, bull-horned, grinning like a beast before a kill. The other long, serpentine, grinning with mockery rather than hunger as an eagle talon rose in a lazy, dismissive gesture. A smooth, amused voice. “Go ahead. It’s not like they can fight back.”
Discord.
Murmurs. Tension. Too many bodies, too close.
And then—the centaur’s mouth opening in a massive inhalation. Light streaming from the gathered ponies to his gaping maw, a mass of stolen magic glowing between his bull-like horns like a captured star.
A sound like the sky itself being torn apart. Light streaming from Metal’s horn. Something yanked from inside him. Gone. Stolen.
He hit the dirt as his legs gave way. A hundred others fell with him. Screaming. Blank flanks. Empty eyes.
Laughter—Tirek’s. Discord’s. Both.
And above it all, the walls stood high, unbroken. Uncaring. Unyielding.
No escape…
No! Metal forced the memory back down, shoving it into the dark recesses where it belonged. Don’t think about it. Do NOT think about it!
"Helloooo?" Discord waved a lion paw in front of Metal’s eyes. "I may be the most handsome, brilliant, all-around amazing and ONLY draconequus in existence, but—" With a snap, a flash of light transformed him into a Saddle Arabian mystic from a story, draped in flowing silk robes and a bejeweled turban. The peacock feather decorating his turban drooped with a sorrowful squeak, like a mistuned violin. "Alas, mind reading is not among my many awesome and incredible talents."
Metal exhaled sharply, willing himself to breathe. His horn tingled—not from magic, but from the phantom ache of its loss. His legs felt weaker, as if the memory itself had stolen his strength all over again. For a long, terrifying moment, all he could see was the past. The smirking draconequus who had brought Tirek to a place where ponies were gathered, helpless. Who had laughed alongside the monster that had drained them dry.
And yet—
He’s still here. Still free. Still laughing. No trial. No punishment. Why?
Books, newspapers and magazines described a Discord who had changed. One who had been forgiven. One who had been given a second chance, and a third, and more.
Metal’s throat tightened. He had read the stories. Discord had betrayed them all, and even now, he was prone to fits of temper and selfishness that could range from inconvenient to devastating to those around him.
And yet, the Princesses forgave him. Fluttershy forgave him. Ponyville forgave him. No matter how often he screwed up, they forgave him.
How many times will it take before they don't forgive him anymore?
The thought hit unbidden, sharp and bitter. And yet, beneath that bitterness, something else stirred. Something quieter. Something… aching.
They let him move forward, no matter how many times he’s failed. Isn’t that what you want?
Metal had come to Ponyville looking for a new start. He couldn’t very well begrudge an entity that had found that very thing.
“Sorry,” Metal shook his head, releasing his telekinetic hold on his belt. He swallowed, forcing himself to lift his chin and meet Discord’s gaze. “I…you startled me. I’m Metal Tested.” He tried to sound normal, casual, but his voice felt off to his own ears.
Discord’s grin didn’t falter—but his eyes narrowed, just slightly. “Hmmm,” the draconequus hummed, stroking his goatish beard with an exaggerated flourish. "That was quite the dramatic pause there, my dear Metal Tested. You weren’t monologuing in your head, were you? Because you had that ‘dark and brooding’ expression just now, and if you’re going to do that, you simply must have a cape.” With a snap of Discord’s lion paw, a black, billowing cape appeared around Metal’s shoulders, fluttering dramatically in an otherwise-imperceptible wind.
Metal flinched at the sudden weight of fabric. “What the—?”
"Ah, yes," Discord continued, clasping his mismatched forelimbs together with satisfaction. "Now this is a proper tragic hero look! Brooding cape? Check. Pained stare into the distance? Check! Angsty silence? Oh-ho, you’re a natural!"
Metal scowled, shaking the cape off with a shudder. “I’m not—!”
“Not embracing the drama, that’s what!” Discord cut in, catching the cape before it hit the ground and draping it over his own shoulders instead. He struck a ridiculous, over-the-top pose, the back of his eagle talon pressed to his forehead while a strange white half-mask appeared to cover the right half of his face and a dramatic pipe-organ note sounded from thin air. “Oh, cruel fate! Oh, misery upon my soul! What wretched agony dost thou bring to my doorstep? What could possibly be haunting the thoughts of one so mysterious?” He waggled his eyebrows at Metal.
Metal’s ears flattened. He suddenly felt exposed in a way he didn’t like. “Nothing’s haunting my thoughts,” he muttered, shuffling a hoof. “You’re overreacting.”
“Oh, I never overreact,” Discord said, dramatically swooning onto a fainting couch that hadn’t been there a moment ago. “I merely... over-enhance.” He cracked open one eye, watching Metal carefully. “Buuuut, if you insist there’s nothing broody and tragic going on in that little pony head of yours, I suppose I’ll take your word for it.”
Metal exhaled, hoping that was the end of it.
“For now,” Discord added with a sly grin, flicking Metal’s horn and making it vibrate back and forth like a spring.
Before Metal could react, the draconequus snapped his claws, his cape and mask vanishing in a puff of smoke. As Metal coughed and waved the smoke away with a hoof, he realized he was now wearing a brightly-colored clown wig and bulbous red nose. “You know,” Discord mused, tilting his head, “this look really suits you better. Much more approachable.”
Metal froze, eyes widening in horror as he reached a hoof up to his mane and felt the unruly synthetic texture of the clown wig. His reflection stared back at him in the glass of a nearby bird feeder—a ridiculous explosion of color clashing horribly with his silver-gray coat, and the absurd red nose completing the ensemble. “You have got to be joking,” he groaned with muted horror
“Oh, but of course I am, Mr. Punchline!” Discord said with a cheerful grin.
Metal’s jaw tightened and he batted away the humiliating wig and nose with sharp, jerky movements. “It’s not funny,” he muttered.
“Ooh, tough crowd!” Discord smirked, floating lazily in the air. “You just seem so serious, I thought you might enjoy a little levity.”
As if on cue, the raven suddenly swooped down from its branch to land on Metal’s withers, cawing and pecking at the necklace bearing his chainmail tie. “Hey! What the-?” Metal cried out, rearing up on his hind legs and bucking a few times instinctively. The raven cawed and flapped its wings for balance, digging its sharp little claws into Metal’s shoulders to hang on. “Shiny! Mine!” it croaked, while up above, the Somnambulan bat fluttered its wings and squeaked in a way that sounded suspiciously like laughter.
“Discord! What are you doing now?” called a high, sweet voice laced with equal parts affection and exasperation. Distracted from the raven perching on his back (thankfully, neither beak nor talons had drawn blood), Metal turned toward the voice…and momentarily forgot to breathe.
He had seen pictures of Fluttershy before—plenty of them, from old spreads from her brief modeling career to the snapshots of the Element Bearers included in the published Friendship Journal. But none of them could have prepared him for the real thing.
Fluttershy wasn’t striking the same way Rarity was, with every detail carefully perfected to catch the eye. Instead, her beauty felt… effortless. Slender and sylphlike, her yellow coat and pink mane caught the sunlight like the gentle glow of dawn breaking through morning mist, and her teal eyes shone with warmth as she balanced a basket of fruits and vegetables on her back, her wings subtly shifting to keep it steady. There was a smooth rhythm to her movements—fluid, unhurried, and strangely captivating. For a moment, Metal felt as though she belonged entirely to the sanctuary, as natural a part of it as the trees or the stream. He didn’t know how to explain it, but it was… calming.
Still, it wasn’t just her appearance that held him in place. Her voice had cut through the chaotic energy surrounding Discord, somehow warm and firm at the same time. It had a grounding quality, and Metal could feel the tension in his chest begin to ease just from hearing it. He wanted to focus on what she was saying, but it was as if his mind had been slowed, lulled by the soothing tone of her words.
“Doing?” Discord repeated, affecting an air of innocence (complete with a halo popping into existence over his head). “Why, my dear Fluttershy, I was simply welcoming this latest visitor to your lovely sanctuary!” Behind his back, Metal saw the draconequus snap the claws of his lion paw, the clown props vanishing from where they had fallen to the ground.
Fluttershy raised an eyebrow, her expression… skeptical, maybe? Metal wasn’t sure. He thought her ears twitched slightly, but he couldn’t tell if that meant she was amused, annoyed, or something else entirely.
Discord’s tail twisted behind him, and Metal got the vague impression that the movement was… guilty? Or defensive? It was hard to tell, especially since Discord was far from being a pony. Metal frowned slightly, wondering if he was overthinking things again.
“Welcoming him…creatively,” Discord amended after a moment. The tuft of hair on the tip of his tail writhed and snapped like his front claws and Metal saw a quick flash of light from behind himself. When he turned his head to look, the raven on his back was wearing a miniature bowtie. “See? Friendly as can be.”
Fluttershy sighed—a soft sound that was hard for Metal to interpret. She didn’t seem upset, but her expression was too subtle for him to read. “Your definition of ‘friendly’ doesn’t always match other creatures’, Discord,” she said, her tone seeming to carry both patience and exasperation.
“Oh, come now, Fluttershy,” Discord interjected, floating between the two ponies. “If anything, I’ve saved this poor stallion from a simple, boring nature walk.”
“I like nature walks…” Metal protested in an undertone.
Ignoring him, Discord continued, “I HAVE suggested before that you have some of the animals perform a musical number for arriving guests…”
“No , Discord,” the yellow pegasus answered firmly as the chaos spirit raised his lion paw, preparing to snap his claws. “The animals are here to relax and recuperate, not entertain visitors.”
“Oh, you’re no fun,” Discord said, crossing his forelimbs and floating a few hooves up in the air to sulk. “None at all.” Despite the eldritch being’s pouting, Metal got the sense that this was a conversation he and Fluttershy had had many times before, like the bantering between an old married couple in a novel or play.
Fluttershy shook her head again, though her gaze seemed to linger on Discord a moment longer than strictly necessary before she turned her attention back to Metal. “I hope he hasn’t caused you too much trouble,” she said. “Welcome to Sweet Feather Sanctuary. I’m Fluttershy, the manager and caretaker.”
“Oh!” Metal twitched and blushed as he realized Fluttershy expected a response; for a moment, he’d been so caught up in the soothing rhythms of her voice that he hadn’t absorbed the message itself. “Uh, no, no trouble,” he stammered. “I mean…thank you.” He glanced back at the raven still perched on his withers, which was trying to undo the tiny bow tie Discord had put on it. “Um…I hope this doesn’t count as disturbing the animals?”
Fluttershy giggled softly, a light, airy sound that somehow made Metal feel less self-conscious. “No, it’s fine if they come to you,” she assured him. “He was probably just curious about your…necklace?” Her gaze shifted briefly to the chainmail tie around his neck. “Ravens are very intelligent, and they like shiny things.”
“I know,” Metal said, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I’ve read about how smart they can be. They even recognize faces, don’t they?”
Fluttershy’s expression brightened, her smile growing wider. “That’s right. They’re incredible creatures.”
Metal opened his mouth to respond, but his words caught in his throat as Fluttershy’s gaze met his again. His shyness came crashing back, and he felt his ears growing warm. Swallowing hard, Metal forced himself to continue meeting her eyes. “Um… I’m Metal Tested,” he said, awkwardly extending a hoof.
Fluttershy shook his hoof, her touch gentle but firm. “I thought you might be,” she said kindly. “You look just the way Rarity described you.”
“Oh…you were one of the ones she talked to?” Metal asked, feeling his blush deepen even as his ears perked up and he felt an odd, not-unpleasant twist in his chest. “She, um, mentioned telling some of her friends about me…”
“Oh-ho!” Discord perked up, twisting in midair to thrust his head down in between Metal and Fluttershy. “Our dear, elegant Rarity, gossiping about a stallion who isn’t nobility or a celebrity?”
There was a flash of light, and suddenly Discord, Fluttershy, Metal, and the bat and raven were all seated around a diner table that appeared in the middle of the path. They all had milkshakes, complete with cherries on top, and Metal and the animals were dressed in black jackets and comical pompadour hairstyles, while Discord and Fluttershy were in frilly dresses with oversized skirts embroidered with poodles. Discord leaned forward on his elbows, sporting a blond wig done up in pigtails. “Tell me more, tell me more!”
Metal blinked, his eyes darting between the milkshake and the ridiculous outfits Discord had put them all in. His brain scrambled to catch up with the rapid shifts, leaving him feeling like he was stuck in a dream he didn’t remember falling asleep for. “Um…I…” he stuttered.
Beside him, the Somnambulan bat squeaked and fluttered its wings just enough to hook its tiny claws onto the rim of its milkshake glass. With a determined stretch, it pulled itself up and leaned forward, snagging the cherry on top in one swift bite. The sight of the bat’s little snout getting smeared with whipped cream as it gnawed at the fruit made Metal smile in spite of his nervousness. The raven walked around the surface of the table, examining its distorted reflection in each milkshake glass in turn and occasionally muttering “Shiny,” to itself.
Fluttershy stirred her milkshake with her straw, giving Discord a look that was more patient than scolding, as if she were gently guiding an excitable foal back on track. “Discord,” she said, her tone light but firm, “maybe let Metal catch his breath before you pull him into one of your productions?”
Discord gasped, pressing his lion paw to his chest in exaggerated offense. “Productions? This? Why, Fluttershy, I am merely fostering an environment of lively camaraderie!” He snapped his eagle talon and a jukebox appeared nearby, playing a quick “jitterbug” tune. “Now, come on, Metal, darling,” Discord said, leaning onto Metal’s shoulder and fluttering his eyelashes flirtatiously. “Dish up the dirt!”
Metal twitched, his entire body stiffening at the unexpected contact. His ears pinned back as he leaned awkwardly away, the artificial scent of strawberry shampoo wafting from Discord’s wig. What was he supposed to do here? Laugh it off? Politely excuse himself? The rules of engagement when dealing with someone like Discord felt completely foreign. “Uh-um…” he stammered again, desperately glancing at Fluttershy for help.
“Discord,” Fluttershy repeated, a quiet but undeniable thread of authority in her voice.
“Oh, very well,” Discord sniffed, sitting up straight and smoothing down his poodle skirt. “If I must lower myself to the docile demeanor of your tame woodland critters…”
Fluttershy reached out to gently brush Discord’s lion forelimb with one of her wings. “You could never be tame, Discord,” she said. “But let’s keep things lower-key for now, for Metal’s sake.”
Discord crossed his arms with another exaggerated pout as he muttered, “Oh, fine, spoil my fun…” under his breath before snapping the jukebox into oblivion. “But the milkshakes stay. They’re an aesthetic necessity.”
“And they’re delicious,” Fluttershy smiled, taking a sip of hers.
“So, Rarity was talking about you, was she?” Discord asked, turning his attention back to Metal. “Do you happen to know what was said?” Suddenly, the draconequus was dressed as a stereotypical reporter, fedora tilted at a jaunty angle while he scribbled on a notepad. “Enquiring minds want to know!”
Metal’s ears pinned back, his cheeks feeling hot as a summer day. “I-I really don’t know what Rarity said about me!” he blurted out. “She just said something about ‘outrageous speculations’ her friends made and…well, she didn’t really go into detail…” He looked down, rubbing his mane and suddenly finding his milkshake very interesting.
Fluttershy’s own cheeks flushed a delicate pink that was almost a match for her mane and tail. “Oh, um, yes. I suppose some of the girl talk got a little…risque,” she admitted sheepishly. “She told us how you met, though, and I thought it was very sweet.” She gave Metal a comforting smile. “Rarity said you’re shy, like I used to be, and a talented jeweler. She was wearing one of the bracelets you gave her.”
“She was?” Metal’s ears perked up.
“She was? ” Discord’s grin widened salaciously as he looked at Metal. “Giving the lady fair jewelry so soon, are you? I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you!” Two clones of Discord appeared behind him, joining in his exaggerated applause. “Bravo, brave little bronco! Bravo indeed!”
Metal hunched down in his seat, his shoulders drawing up toward his ears as he felt his blush deepen. In spite of his discomfort with the attention, he felt something in his chest seem to tighten and relax at the same time. “I…she wanted to take me to the Grand Galloping Gourmet to celebrate when we agreed to sell my work through her boutique,” he muttered bashfully. “She thought that wearing some of my work would be good advertising, so I gave it to her as a gift.”
He studied his milkshake intently, picking up the cherry in his telekinesis and spinning it around and around, his magical “touch” exploring the slick surface. “I saw she was wearing one of the bracelets while we worked on the price list last night, but I didn’t know she wore it to the school…”
“She did,” Fluttershy nodded, reaching over to gently remove the raven’s tiny jacket and pompadour, smoothing its feathers back into place. “She’s always had an eye for beautiful accessories. It wouldn’t surprise me if she starts a fad for your work among the students.”
Metal felt a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth in spite of his embarrassment. “That’d be… nice,” he said.
Having finished its own treat, the bat crawled awkwardly toward Metal on its wings and feet, squeaking and looking up at him with big eyes as its long, agile tongue flicked out to lick whipped cream from its snout.
“Aww, I think he likes you,” Fluttershy giggled, running her hoof along the raven’s back as she fed it the fruit from her own milkshake. The raven held its prize in its beak and cawed, giving Discord and Metal a look that Metal could only describe as smug.
“Yes, yes, laugh it up, featherbrain,” Discord smirked. “You like cherries?” He snapped his eagle talon, and a clump of the tiny fruits manifested just over the raven’s head, pattering down to bury it alive. “How do you like them cherries?”
Metal couldn’t help laughing as the bird’s head popped up out of the pile, shaking back and forth with an indignant squawk. Feeling something brushing against his hoof, he looked down to see the bat “pawing” at him with a wing, eyes locked on his own levitating red morsel with an expression of pure, puppyish pleading. “What… you want this?” he asked, lowering the fruit toward the little chiropteran. “Here you go.”
The bat squeaked in delight, opening its mouth wide to gnaw at its treat. Fluttershy chuckled fondly as she watched the interactions between Discord, Metal, and the animals. “These two have been inseparable ever since they came to the sanctuary,” she explained. “Ravens and bats are both very social.”
Metal nodded. “I lived down in the Bone-Dry Desert for a few years as a foal, near the Abyssinian border,” he said; a part of him was surprised at how easily the words came, without his usual stumbling and stuttering. “I used to hear stories about Somnambulan bats guiding lost travelers to oases. The Abyssinians call them ‘shiri mrru’...‘night singers’.” He raised a hoof slightly, then hesitated, glancing at Fluttershy. “Do you think he’d let me pet him?”
Fluttershy chuckled. “I think he’d like that very much,” she nodded encouragingly. “Bats and ravens get a bad reputation for being strange and scary, but ones that spend a lot of time with ponies tend to act a lot like puppies.”
Metal nodded, using his telekinetic magic to gently remove the pompadour wig and jacket Discord had summoned onto the bat, then running a hoof carefully over the soft, wooly fur and leathery wings. The bat let out a contented squeak, muffled by the mouthful of cherry, and leaned its head into Metal’s touch, closing its eyes and murring in pleasure as he rubbed between its large, expressively mobile ears.
“Yeah, you like this, don’tcha, little guy?” Metal chuckled. “Good bat.” He looked up at Fluttershy. “Do these two have names?”
“Not really,” Fluttershy shook her head. “Most animals don’t think of themselves in terms of names the same way ponies do, though pets learn it from being around us.”
“For example, Angel Bunny insists on being called ‘His Royal Highness, Grand Overlord of All Carrots,” Discord interjected with a smirk, taking a sip from his milkshake.
Fluttershy gave Discord a look that Metal found hard to read, though she had a small smile as she did so. “Anyway, Dr. Fauna and I give the wild animals names while they’re here, but that’s really more for our convenience.” She motioned to the bat, which was alternating between rubbing its head against Metal’s hoof and giving it affectionate licks. “I’ve been calling him Cuddles, and the raven Snowflake. They’re both males.”
Metal blinked. “Snowflake?” he repeated. He glanced at the raven, who was pulling himself out of Discord’s summoned pile of cherries and shaking his feathers back into place with an air of offended dignity. The inky black pinions gleamed in the midday sun, a stark contrast to the name.
“I thought it was a cute irony,” Fluttershy explained, taking Metal’s skepticism in stride.
Discord let out a delighted guffaw. “Oh, I love it!” he laughed. “A perfectly poetic contradiction. Why, it’s almost as ridiculous as calling this one Sunshine Swagger!” He motioned to Metal with his lion paw, then smiled at Fluttershy. “I daresay, Fluttershy, you grow more chaotic all the time!”
Metal shook his head, resting his chin on one forehoof while still using the other to pet the bat. “I dunno. I think ‘Cuddles’ might be worse.”
At that exact moment, the bat stretched, flaring its wings and letting out an adorable high-pitched yawn before wrapping his wings and feet around Metal’s foreleg, tucking his head in under Metal’s hoof.
Fluttershy giggled. “Well, he is a cuddler,” she pointed out. "Maybe that jacket reminds him of another bat's wings—smooth and cozy."
Metal sighed, a reluctant smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. “All right, fair enough.”
Letting out an annoyed caw, as if jealous of the attention his companion was receiving, Snowflake the raven hopped into the air, flapping over to land on Metal’s withers again. As Metal glanced back, the corvid began stroking his beak through Metal’s mane, as if preening him. “Good pony, good pony,” the bird muttered between each stroke of his beak.
Discord burst out laughing. “You know, I was going to make a joke here, but the real thing is just too perfect.” Pulling a camera from nowhere, he snapped a picture with a blinding flash. When Metal blinked the spots from his vision, the chaos spirit was holding a newspaper featuring a picture of Metal, looking slightly befuddled by the camera flash while he pet the bat and the raven seemed to pet him in turn. Mysterious Metalworker Mingles with Mischievous Minions—Locals Love the Lunacy, read the headline.
Metal shook his head, glancing at Fluttershy. “Is he always like this?” he asked.
Fluttershy sighed indulgently. “Sometimes, he’s much worse,” she admitted. “I think he really is just trying to make you feel welcome.”
Before Metal could fully process that information, he heard a soft click —then the weight of his chainmail tie vanished from his neck. What the—? A blur of black feathers shot past his vision. Snowflake! The raven took off from his withers, croaking, “Mine! Mine!” triumphantly as he flapped away, Metal’s tie gleaming in his beak.
Metal’s brain stalled for a half-second, caught between confusion and indignation, before shouting, “Hey!” He jumped up, his chair scraping against the ground with a screech loud enough to startle a few nearby animals. A sharp squeak cut through the air as Cuddles flared his wings in alarm, tightening his grip on Metal’s foreleg with his feet.
“Oh dear,” Fluttershy’s voice cut in, calm but knowing. “Not again…” Metal glanced toward her, confused, but she was already on her hooves, wings spreading. “Snowflake does that sometimes,” she explained quickly, tracking the raven’s flight path. “I’ll help you get it back.” With that, she took off into the air, poodle skirt billowing as her wings flapped.
Metal’s first instinct was to go bolting after Snowflake, but Cuddles still clung to his foreleg, squeaking insistently. “Alright, alright—off you go, little guy,” Metal muttered, giving his hoof a gentle shake to encourage the bat to loosen his grip.
Cuddles hesitated, wings twitching—then finally let go, flapping into the air and circling overhead.
Metal took off, galloping after the raven. Snowflake barely glanced back, cawing mockingly as he flapped toward the wooded area near the sanctuary’s waterfall.
Metal started to follow on instinct, only to pull up short at the rope barrier marking the hoofpath. Would chasing after Snowflake upset the other animals? Would Fluttershy be mad?
As if sensing his concern, Fluttershy glanced back toward him. “It’s okay, Metal! You can follow—just be careful!”
With a quick nod of thanks, Metal hopped the barrier and sprinted after her in a quick canter, constantly shifting his focus—tracking Snowflake in the air while also watching his step to avoid the animals below. Above him, Cuddles gave a series of excited squeaks before diving forward, joining the chase.
“Oh, now, THIS is entertainment!” Discord cackled, materializing an opera balcony seat above the sanctuary, complete with opera glasses and a box of popcorn for himself. “What riveting drama! The tragic knight, his treasured artifact stolen! The noble maiden, soaring to his aid! The little flappy sidekick who just wants to have fun!” He tossed a clawful of popcorn into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Hm…needs more chase music, though.” With a snap of his eagle talon, jazzy, fast-paced saxophone music began playing from nowhere, its beat and rhythm seeming to emphasize the twists and turns of the chase perfectly.
Metal barely noticed Discord’s antics as he skidded around a corner. A pair of otters that had been lounging in the sun squeaked indignantly as he nearly tripped over them, scrambling into the water to avoid his hooves. “Sorry!” Metal called back to them as they waved their balled-up front paws after him. Snowflake had reached a tall tree near the sanctuary’s waterfall and perched triumphantly on a high branch, the chainmail tie glinting in his beak.
“Oh, you little—!” Metal gritted his teeth, lighting his horn and grasping at the tie with his telekinesis.
Snowflake, however, wasn’t finished playing yet. With a mocking caw, he flapped away just before Metal’s aura could take hold, dropping several feet before swooping toward a different perch. His escape sent Metal stumbling forward, his telekinesis fizzling out in frustration.
“Maybe try asking nicely?” Discord called from his floating balcony. “Ravens are rather big on favors, you know.”
Fluttershy hovered just above the tree, giving the raven a patient but firm look. “You should give that back now, Snowflake,” she called gently. “That’s not a toy, and it doesn’t belong to you.”
The raven croaked in response—something between defiance and cheeky amusement.
Cuddles the bat, meanwhile, had his own ideas. He swooped up toward the raven, chittering excitedly, as if trying to join in the fun. With an unexpected burst of speed, he zoomed in close, nudging Snowflake’s beak playfully before snatching the chainmail tie in his feet and flapping away, chirping triumphantly.
“Hey!” Metal gasped, eyes widening. “Oh, come on—not you too!”
Snowflake squawked in outrage and immediately took off after Cuddles, chasing after its stolen prize. Now the bat had joined the game properly, flapping away in an erratic zigzag pattern, squeaking playfully as the raven pursued.
Fluttershy sighed, though her expression was more amused than exasperated. “I think they just want to play with you, Metal.”
Metal groaned, running a hoof down his face. “Why couldn’t they have just wanted more cherries?”
“Oh, they could have,” Discord agreed, idly munching his popcorn. “But then we wouldn’t be having this much fun!” With another snap, Metal suddenly found himself dressed in a ridiculous adventurer’s getup, complete with a brown fedora and a whip. “Go on, Mighty Metal!” Discord declared in a dramatic voice. “Retrieve your priceless artifact before it falls into enemy claws forever!”
Metal huffed, shaking off the outfit. “Not helping.”
“Not trying to,” Discord sang back with a smirk.
Fluttershy, ignoring Discord’s antics, turned to Metal. “I think I can get them to come down if we give them something else to focus on,” she said. “Do you have anything shiny you might not mind them having?”
Metal frowned, patting his saddlebag with a hoof. “I might have something…” Digging through his saddlebag with his hooves and telekinesis, he pulled out a small brass chain, one of his early practice pieces. It was simple, but it gleamed nicely in the sunlight.
Fluttershy nodded approvingly. “Perfect. Let me try something.” Taking the chain, she flapped up to hover a few feet over Metal’s head and let out a soft, melodic whistle—a sound so gentle and coaxing that Metal felt himself relax just hearing it.
Cuddles paused mid-flight, hovering in place as he tilted its head toward Fluttershy with a curious squeak. Snowflake flapped to a stop on a nearby perch, eyeing her warily.
Fluttershy smiled and extended a hoof, letting the light catch on the brass chain. “Here, little ones,” she said sweetly. “This one’s much shinier, and it’s just for you. Just give back the one you took and you can have it.”
Snowflake and Cuddles exchanged glances—an eerie, almost knowing look—before the bat finally dropped Metal’s chainmail tie. Metal just managed to catch it in his telekinesis before it hit the ground. “Oh, thank Celestia,” he muttered to himself in relief as a quick inspection revealed no damage to the accessory.
Snowflake swooped down to grab the brass bracelet from Fluttershy in his beak, landing on a low branch where Cuddles joined him to inspect their new prize. “There we go,” Fluttershy said kindly. “Now everycreature is happy.”
Metal exhaled, giving her a grateful look. “You’re really good at this,” he said, running a hoof over his face as he telekinetically buckled the toggle clasp of the necklace around his neck again. “I mean, I like animals, but that was something else.”
Fluttershy blushed slightly but smiled. “Oh, well… it’s what I do.”
Above them, Discord sniffled dramatically, dabbing his eyes with a hoofkerchief. “Oh, what a touching resolution! I must say, Metal, your little adventure has been highly entertaining.”
Metal shot him a tired, deadpan look, ears flicking back slightly. “Glad someone had fun,” he muttered, though there was an edge of dry humor in his tone.
“Oh, absolutely,” Discord said cheerfully. Then he grinned slyly. “Though I do believe Snowflake still has his eye on your tie.”
Metal blinked and glanced back to see Snowflake, still poring over the brass chain with Cuddles, peering at him mischievously. The raven lifted a wing in what looked suspiciously like a cheeky wave.
“…I’m going to have to keep an eye out for them, aren’t I?” he muttered under his breath.
Fluttershy giggled softly. “Only if they decide you’re part of their flock now.”
Metal wasn’t sure how to feel about that, though the thought of being claimed by the two mischievous creatures made his lips twitch toward a hesitant smile. Before he could fully process Fluttershy’s comment, Discord suddenly reappeared beside him in a puff of smoke, draping a claw over Metal’s withers.
“You know, Metal,” Discord said, stroking his beard with exaggerated thoughtfulness, “you handled that little escapade rather well… for a beginner.”
Metal’s ears flicked again, this time in mild annoyance. “Beginner?” he echoed cautiously.
“Oh, of course,” Discord continued with a wide grin. “That was clearly a test—a trial, if you will. And you barely tripped over yourself at all! Which means you’re perfectly suited for something much…grander.”
Metal frowned, glancing first at the draconequus and then at Fluttershy, who watched the exchange with a gently amused expression. “I can’t decide whether to be curious or terrified,” he said, shifting slightly farther away from Discord’s companionable touch.
“Both are entirely appropriate responses!” Discord declared, giving Metal a hearty clap on the back. “Come now, my new favorite chaos companion! Adventure awaits...next Thursday night!”
Fluttershy smiled knowingly. “You’re inviting him to your ‘Ogres & Oubliettes’ game, aren’t you?”
Metal’s ears perked up in spite of himself. “Wait…you play O&O?” he asked, looking up at Discord incredulously. He found it difficult to imagine the chaos spirit sitting at a table with a character sheet and a clawful of dice. It just felt too…normal.
“‘Do I play O&O?’ he asks,” Discord repeated, drawing himself up proudly. “My dear stallion, I bring O&O to life !” Suddenly, he was dressed in the soft greens and browns of a wilderness scout, bow in claw and quiver slung over his shoulder. The blond wig he wore, woven back into two long braids, looked the same as the one he had sported at the diner table, but somehow more dignified and noble. For some odd reason, his eagle talon now looked like a fully-mobile parsnip. “Am I to take from your reaction that you have some passing familiarity as well?”
“Um…I’ve played before,” Metal nodded hesitantly, still trying to square the contrasting images of Discord, the unpredictable demigod associated with one of his worst memories, with such a mundane hobby. “It’s been a few years.”
“Well, then, we shall have to remedy that!” Discord declared grandly, reaching into a small pouch on his belt and pulled out a scroll far too large for it. After a moment, Metal’s horn glowed, taking the scroll into his telekinesis and breaking the wax seal. As he unrolled it, trumpets popped out of the paper to play a fanfare in his face, causing him to wince and draw back slightly.
Once the trumpets vanished, the scroll looked fairly ordinary, other than the image of Discord dressed as a noble herald at the top, which moved and read the scroll aloud. “Hear ye, hear ye! The splendiferous land of Spiketopia seeks valiant and venturesome veterans to join its heroic heroes against the horrific hordes of the slimy Squizard!”
The Discord-illustration paused for dramatic effect, twirling its mustache before continuing. "Among the noble defenders of Spiketopia, you shall find none other than the wise and mysterious Garfunkle the Wizard , master of the arcane arts and purveyor of perplexing puzzles!” Another figure appeared on the scroll—a tiny caricature of a small purple dragon in a flowing dark-blue robe, pointed hat and long beard. He waved a glowing staff with a flourish that accidentally set his hat on fire, causing Discord’s illustration to yelp and pat it out before moving on.
“Beside him stands the mighty Sir McBiggen the Unicorn Warrior, whose stupendous strength is rivaled only by his noble heart and jawline of legend!” The scroll unfurled further to show a cartoon of an absurdly muscular red unicorn stallion in gleaming black plate armor, his horn aglow with battle magic as he smote a pile of cardboard-cutout skeletons with a mighty swing of his greatsword.
“And who could forget the incomparable Captain Wuzz , archer extraordinaire and master of the absurdly overcomplicated quint-shot?” The next illustration featured Discord’s avatar, decked out just as the being himself was in front of Metal Tested. The illustration loosed five arrows at once, each one spiraling into its target with improbable precision.
The scroll continued to unfurl, revealing the last caricature: a brightly-colored winged creature with sleek, chitin-like scales and camouflage patterns, perched atop a treasure chest and flipping a dagger between its talons with effortless flair. The illustration looked something like a hybrid between a griffon and a changeling.
“Last but not least, the daring, dazzling Slybright, rogue nonpareil!” the Discord illustration declared. “Her quirky and lovable charm is exceeded only by her knack for finding traps... and occasionally springing them anyway!” The rogue cartoon gave a cocky grin before tripping a wire and vanishing in a puff of smoke, only to reappear upside down on a branch with an exaggerated shrug.
The illustration-Discord turned toward Metal, pointing at him with a dramatic flourish. “And now, Spiketopia awaits you, oh valiant and valorous…I can’t think of another good V word, but that’s not the point! What say you? Will you rise to the occasion and forge your destiny... or will you let the Squizard's bony, undead horde rattle all over our glorious realm?”
Before Metal could answer, the scroll lit up with fireworks, spelling out in bold letters: "JOIN US FOR EPIC ADVENTURE! SNACKS PROVIDED!"
Metal dropped the scroll and took a few steps back, shaking his head as he tried to process the sensory overload. “Discord,” he heard Fluttershy say from just overhead, “what did I say earlier about overwhelming him?”
“I was just trying to give it a little pizzazz…” Discord objected, affecting a hurt tone.
“It…it’s okay,” Metal said, glancing up at the pair with a tentative smile. “I mean, the text was more or less like a lot of overblown O&O descriptions I’ve heard before, just…some of the special effects were a little much.”
“See? He likes it!” Discord said triumphantly to Fluttershy, then turned to Metal with an expectant grin. “So, what should I tell them you’ll be playing? Alchemist? Sorcerer? Monk? Cleric?”
Metal surprised himself by holding up a hoof. “I’ll make my own character, thanks,” he said. “But…yeah, I’ll give it a shot. I’ll have to get the books for the latest edition, though; I’ve heard Hoofbro added a lot of new species options.”
“Oooh, goodie!” Discord clapped his forelimbs with exaggerated enthusiasm. “I just knew our little group could do with a new chew toy–I mean, meat shield–I mean, fellow adventurer, of course!”
Fluttershy sighed and glided down to stand beside Metal, offering him a gentle, reassuring smile. “I think joining their game sounds like a wonderful idea,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “Discord loves to make things exciting, but don’t be afraid to let him know if it feels like too much.”
Discord gasped, clutching his chest in mock dismay. “Too much ? Moi? Perish the thought!” He snapped his talons, conjuring an enormous banner behind him with "Totally Tame and Completely Reasonable" emblazoned across it. A marching band appeared and began playing an overly dramatic anthem, sending animals scattering away from the noise. Up on their perch, Metal noticed Snowflake the raven and Cuddles the bat covering their ears with their wings.
Fluttershy glanced at Metal with a knowing look. “See what I mean?” she murmured softly as Discord made the marching band vanish with another snap of his claws.
“I’ll…keep that in mind,” Metal nodded. His ears perked up as he heard the public clock tower give a single chime in the distance. “Wait…what time is it?” he asked, looking between Fluttershy and Discord in panic.
“Um…” Reaching under her wing, Fluttershy pulled out a pocket watch to consult. “Twelve-thirty. Why?”
“Oh, no! I’m going to be late!” Metal started galloping back toward the sanctuary entrance, only to come to a stumbling halt after only a few steps, turning to come back to Fluttershy. “Um…it was really nice meeting you, Fluttershy” he said quickly, but shyly. “And you, I guess, Discord.” Telekinetically pulling his Friendship Journal and a pen from his saddlebag, he offered them to Fluttershy. “Could I get an autograph before I go?”
Fluttershy giggled gently. “Rarity said you might ask us,” she said as she took the book in her hooves and grasped the pen between two of her feather-fingers. Writing a quick note to join Rarity’s and Pinkie Pie’s, she closed the book and offered it back. “Here you go.”
“Hey! Don’t you want an autograph from me?” Discord asked with an air of mock-offense.
“Um…” Metal hesitated, caught between his tardiness and his desire not to offend one of Rarity’s friends, even if Discord was much closer to Fluttershy. “Some other time,” he finally said, slipping his Friendship Journal back into his saddlebag. “I really need to get to work. Thank you, Fluttershy!” With that, he turned and galloped toward the sanctuary entrance once more, being careful to avoid disturbing the animals any more than he had to.
“Well!” Discord gave a stretch, then slipped a forelimb around Fluttershy’s shoulders and gave her a mischievous grin as they watched Metal vanish into the distance. “He seems like he’ll be loads of fun!”
Fluttershy sighed indulgently, gently nuzzling her head against Discord’s shoulder. “I like him, too,” she said. “Just be nice to him, okay? Rarity said he has trouble with social situations.”
“He seemed to do well enough just now, aside from freezing up a moment when I first introduced myself,” Discord commented, stroking his beard. “I’ll try not to break him TOO badly, though.”
“Thank you,” Fluttershy nodded; she knew this was the best promise she was likely to get from Discord. Glancing down at her poodle skirt, she smoothed it down. “Now, if you don’t mind, I really do need to get back to feeding the animals, and these clothes aren’t exactly practical for it.”
“Oh, very well,” Discord said, snapping his claws and making the outfit vanish back into the ether while Fluttershy’s basket of food reappeared. “I must say, though, you looked adorable like that.”
“Thank you, Discord,” Fluttershy favored him with a warm, sweet smile. She fluttered up to give him a quick peck on the cheek, then dropped back to the ground and walked toward a stand of trees where some hungry orangutans awaited their lunch.
Author's Note
Whew! This one ended up taking a lot longer (and BEING a lot longer) than I expected. I'm happy with how it turned out, though, and I hope you are, too!
The chase music Discord summons from nowhere is, of course, "Yakety Sax", otherwise popularly known as the Benny Hill theme, as used before in FIM. For example:
Somnambulan bats are based on Egyptian fruit bats, drawing on the Egyptian-style conceit of Somnambula's character and the fact that at least one town in the show is shown to be named after her. Also, they're adorable.
Ravens, of course, are awesome.
As always, comments and upvotes are most appreciated!
