In high society, trends come and go at the drop of a hat. The cutting edge fashionistas are always redefining what's vogue in terms of clothing but there's so much more to aristocracy than your jewelry or choice of tailor. How your mane falls, the width and breadth of your canter, even meticulous word choice denotes whether you're somepony in the know or not.
Usually, these fads live and die amongst the nobleponies of Canterlot and never truly trickle down to the common rabble. The ponies of Ponyville could never emulate or truly appreciate what it means to be in vogue.
That is, except for one pony.
“Rarity? I'm here with those flowers you were wantin’,” Applejack called out. Usually she'd be greeted by Rarity's beaming smile but the display room of the boutique was unusually empty today. If she wasn't sprucing up her displays or walking somepony through a fashion rebirth, Rarity would be hard at work in the back with a half-dozen tools and spools of ribbon being magicked about, she figured.
Applejack made her way towards the back, heavy saddlebags still in tow. “Coming Applejack darling,” Rarity answered. She let her cargo fall to the floor with a heavy dud and breathed a much-earned sigh of relief. Seconds later, Rarity poked her head out front behind the room-dividing curtain and then the rest of her followed.
“Now what in tarnation is this all about?” Applejack's mouth hung open as she watched Rarity hobble out from behind the curtain. She stood on her back hooves, though ‘standing’ may have been too generous a read of the situation. Each step was laborious and the mare wobbled with each new inch traveled. Were it not for the flailing forehooves somehow managing to balance herself, she'd have ended up on her bottom after the first step.
“You're walkin’ funnier than a clown after a three-day rodeo,” Applejack laid it on thick but she wasn't wrong.
“Oh don't be preposterous!” Rarity retorted, but only after balancing a hoof against the nearest sturdy surface. “This is how all the nobleponies of Canterlot are getting around, nowadays.” Her explanation made sense in that it explained why she was wobbling to-and-fro but that was about it.
Applejack knew not to push back. Fancy clothes, fancy words, fancy walking- most of the time it was beyond her understanding and she liked it that way. If it wasn't serving a practical purpose, what's the point in stumblin’ around all silly-like?
“Right…,” Applejack accepted her answer and motioned towards the two sacks full of flower petals on the ground. “Got ‘em all processed for ya, just like you asked.” Part of fashion was finding the most unique color, shape, or styling BEFORE the trend broke and these flowers would make for a rich, yellow dye and in turn, dazzling golden clothing.
“Oh simply splendid,” Rarity chirped, still holding herself up against the wall. She looked to Applejack and Applejack looked to her. “Allow me to…” she started, fully concentrating on the act of walking upright. She managed two steps towards the saddlebags before she lost balance and fell forward. Luckily, ponies tend to prefer being on all fours so her frantic scrambling to keep balance gracefully transitioned to a normal ‘standing’ position.
Neither pony said a word but AJ couldn't help but crack a grin. Rarity replied with a ‘hmph’ that all-but-said she had meant to do that. Bracing herself against one of the flower bags, she once again rose to all-twos. One hoof hooked through the straps of the pack and she gave a tug, meaning to drag the load into the back but it hardly budged.
Applejack raised a brow and gave her a nod. She had asked for what amounted to two cart-fulls of flowers, after all.
When it was clear that no amount of tugging would move the cargo, she gave Applejack an exasperated smile who knew exactly what that meant.
With a grunt, Applejack loaded the pack up once more and followed Rarity (slowly) towards the back. “Not that I mind either way, sugarcube,” Applejack said as she unloaded the supplies into a corner. “But wouldn't it have been easier to just magic ‘em over?”
Rarity gasped. Magic? Whilst performing the Canterlot Amble? “Only if I wished to out myself as a wanna-be!” Rarity added a ‘tsk’ at the end and Applejack once again remembered the game they were playing.
“Right…” Applejack said again. Sometimes all you could do was smile and agree.
“It's not just a walk, Darling. It's the walk, the talk, the perfect dress to accentuate The Equine, Biped.” Oh no. She'd gone too far with that last question.
“Everypony who's anypony knows the Amble is to be performed without magic.” Applejack kept her lips sealed. Rarity continued. “It's about being at the top! Standing with your head held high at the pinnacle of class among the societal elite!”
To the ‘societal elite’, the Canterlot Amble had quickly caught on as a clear indicator of wealth and power. Nobles had no need to magic about flowers or tailoring supplies, they had paid helping-hooves to take care of that. The classism elements fell on Rarity's deaf ears. Sure, nobles standing on hind hooves meant that they'd naturally look down at the peasantry but they were already doing that to begin with. For Rarity, it was… well, it. One does not become a forerunner of fashion without living, breathing, and dying alongside every new trend that comes along, however silly or mystifying.
“I could help you learn.” Applejack's offer came so sudden that Rarity gave her a double take.
“Darling, DARLING,” Rarity began with a haughty laugh. “Whilst I appreciate the offer, I can't image you've much experience with the latest trends of Canterlotian society.” Even while dismissing her, the unicorn wobbled about and fell back down to a normal position.
“To me, it's a lot like buckin’ apples,” Applejack began her explanation. Rarity rolled her eyes. Always with the Apples, this mare, she thought whilst intently watching.
The farm mare leaned in close to the ground, muzzle just about kissing the cool tile of Rarity's shop. “When you're harvesting, all the powers gotta be in your hind legs ‘cuz that's what connects with the trunk.” Rarity had watched her work the farm enough to have a good idea of what ‘proper bucking posture’ looked like but allowed the show to proceed nonetheless.
In one quick motion, Applejack brought her hind hooves up and inward while balancing on her forehooves. Instead of sending all that stored energy backwards, - and likely taking a mannequin's head clean off - Applejack merely maintained the pose while slowly tilting forward.
“Y'see? I'd be rubbin’ hooves with all those snooty Canterlot ponies in no time,” Applejack laughed while completely vertical, albeit upside down. A hindhoof extended towards Rarity's muzzle and Applejack faked a nose-boop before slowly, carefully lowering herself back to all-fours.
“Wha- I mean, how did… ?” Rarity had a dozen questions and Applejack had about three good answers.
“You're lookin’ at the reigning Apple family hoof-stand champion. Seven years running, I might add.” Applejack grinned. It wasn't every day she found herself fancier than l'il-miss-prissy-pants.
“Of course, you gotta think about it in reverse,” Applejack said, rearing back onto her hindhooves, balancing herself, then standing completely upright. “Like this, right?” She asked, knowing full well that her gait around the tailoring room would leave any noblepony impressed.
She walked a careful circle around the mare then once again dropped back down to a natural standing pose. Without even intending to, she had captured all the elegance and supposed grace of the upper crust and distilled it down to a delightful rustic charm. Had anypony else had seen the display, the ridiculous fad would have died right then and there.
It was a fantastic display of refinement and of posture, regardless of how, when, and why she had learned the ability to do so. But Rarity's mind drifted elsewhere, head plucked from the clouds and brought safely back down to earth by this simple farm mare. Her musculature, strength, even the way her mane had fallen across her face during the balancing act… It was all so… distracting. Rarity decided that was the most apt descriptor.
Rarity hadn't noticed the blush creeping into her cheeks and ears anymore than Applejack had. So flustered was she, when AJ placed one hoof on her back and the other spaced just before her croup, the sudden ‘eep!’ and the accompanying jump startled them both.
“Oop, sorry,” Applejack pulled back immediately.
“No, no,” Rarity shook her head and cleared her throat as if that would magically return her standard composure. “If you'd be so kind as to guide me?” She looked past Applejack, not daring to meet her eyes.
It's not like Rarity wasn't used to such close or physical moments with other ponies. One does not create the perfect ensemble without a dozen-dozen measurements of everything crest to croup, after all. Normally she was the one guiding hooves along a mare’s back or measuring the width of a stallion's barrel. It felt different with hooves on her, is all, and not because they were Applejack's. Definitely not.
“Thinkin’ about it, I probably don't gotta teach you to do it backwards, unless… ?” Applejack let the offer hang in the air.
“I'd be the laughing stock of Canterlot!” Rarity cried, attention momentarily shifting to the lofty elite and not the much bigger, much stronger pony about to mare-handle her.
“Well in that case,” Applejack said, shifting around till they stood face to face. “Here, you're gonna balance your hooves ‘round my neck. Use me to stand up straight then I'll help ya from there.” The explanation was straightforward but Rarity felt anything but.
One dainty, well-manicured hoof hooked around Applejack's neck, followed soon by the other. From there, Rarity pulled herself to a squatting position and then upright on two hooves. Even with Rarity pulling her weight up solely bracing Applejack's neck, she hardly budged. That girl was built so tough, and yet…
“Now you're doin’ it, just keep nice ‘n steady,” Applejack said, reaching up to remove her hat and safely toss it to the side. Rarity's balance was still precarious at best but Applejack did suffice as a sturdy, strong, solid, thick object for the mare to lean against.
“Hol’ on tight now,” came Applejack's sudden warning as she too leaned back then sprung up. Rarity nearly lost her balance with the shift but Applejack caught her, a hoof firm on each flank to keep her steady. The two mares stood upright, balancing in each other's grasp.
“You're a natural,” Applejack praised. “Learn to balance those hooves on a ball and you'll be prettiest rodeo clown from here to Appleloosa.”
Rarity wasn't sure if that had been a friendly jab or something a bit more. Regardless, her heart skipped a beat and she flustered further. Given any othercircumstance, she'd have huffed off to regain an air of composure but she didn't dare interrupt the moment.
“And now all you gotta do is follow my lead. Stop me if I go too quick for ya.” Applejack took a full step back, forearms still extended and holding onto the much smaller mare. Rarity matched her step, allowing herself to be pulled in closer. Next Applejack stepped right and Rarity followed right along. Another step back and then to the left.
Each step, Applejack slid her free hoof back into position with its partner in a practiced movement. Rarity was not so graceful. She could hardly keep up with simple steps, hindlegs wobbling more and more the longer they went.
They practiced these simple steps till Applejack had no further room to step back. Now it was Rarity's turn to lead, one hoof step at a time.
There wasn't anything to focus on beyond their movement but Rarity's mind raced regardless. Applejack was bigger than her, bigger than all her friends even, but she hadn't realized the magnitude of their contrast till now.
That brilliant orange fur glowing golden in the sun's rays… those strong shoulders which could just as easily toss her across ponyville as they could cradle her in a princess carry… her perfect freckles, as if a jeweler had placed each one with tweezer and loupe…
She had never swooned so hard that she actually fainted, but then again, she had never slow danced with Applejack in the privacy of her boutique either. Dainty hooves gave out and the unicorn fell backwards. The fainting spell lifted as quickly as it had struck her though the burning cheeks and ears remained.
“Y'okay, Rarity?” Applejack had caught her easily of course. Leaning into the moment, Applejack dipped the unicorn low enough that her mane brushed against the floor then effortlessly raised her back up. “Maybe those hooves of yours ain't up to the task just yet,” she assumed. Rarity made no attempt to clarify.
“Oh I'm ah… just fine,” she managed, the two now standing still but remaining within the soft embrace of each other's hooves. If this continued however, she was certain to die. She needed a way out, a subtle excuse to end this private lesson, at least for today…
“Three more couples and you got yourself a classic Apple family Square dance,” Applejack said proudly, largely unaware she was holding Rarity's heart in her hooves just as much as her flanks. “Y'know, thinkin’ about it, you oughta come down to the farm sometime, I'll show ya how to hog-tie an ornery sow. Who knows, maybe that'll be the next big hit?”
Couple?! Hog-tying sows? It was all too much. Rarity's eyes darted around the room for a fashionable excuse and came up empty-hoofed. Wait, was that… ?
Rarity broke from their grasp and resumed her natural stance. “Applejack!” She feigned a shriek even as a hoofkerchief floated across the room. “Look at all the mud you've tracked in!” Rarity's ‘outrage’ continued and she dabbed the kerchief against her tongue.
“Oh, ah, I'm sorry miss Rarity,” Applejack apologized though she wasn't really sure where any of the dirt actually was. “Here, lemme help ya-”
“THAT won't be necessarily,” Rarity replied hastily, though she took the time to wipe away the minor bits of dirt that had caked the farmmares hooves. “I'll take care of it, thank you, and I really should get started on the dyeing process.”
Scooping up Applejack's hat, Rarity placed it back on her head then shuffled both of them back to the main lobby. The hard part came next.
“Now, if you happen to find a gap in your schedule and you've another bushel to send my way, you're more than welcome in at the same time tommorow.” Between friends, it'd be a simple invitation to resume their activity, but the way her heart threatened to jump right out of her white fur made it feel like so much more. “If that works for you, of course.”
The door to the boutique swung open wide and Applejack found herself under the Carasoul Boutiques awning. “Well uhh… you have a good one now,” Applejack said, only a smidgen confused but more than accustomed to Rarity's whims and odd emotional outbursts.
“You too, darling,” Rarity replied, the ‘darling’ nearly getting stuck in her throat. “Don't forget- tomorrow!” Rarity's hasty invite had already shifted to a hopeful reconvening on the morrow.
The ‘closed’ sign flipped outwards as Rarity slammed the door shut, followed by a ‘click’ of the lock. The lounge that normally sat prospective customers served now as an outlet for Rarity's emotions. Face hid itself against pillows while hooves kicked weekly at cushions. Who knew farm ponies were so… so…
Rarity hadn't the words to describe that perhaps her prince charming was an honest farm gal with a country twang.
Author's Note
My first fic :3 new to mlp, started watching with my fiancee this summer and I'm totally obsessed. Ty Semillon and This kobold for proofreading and providing suppprt!!
