Pearls on the Sand

by TwoHadLuckier

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Original Character, Rarity
Length: 3193

You met on the shore, as innocent foals; when fate brings you together again, you share a moment.

Written from second-perspective as a flash of inspiration from the Romance thread in /fic/, on Ponychan.net. Relatively tame, and told from the perspective of a seapony from a hidden undersea world as they make a friend as a child, and meet again in the present.
Rated [Fuzzy] to [Snuggly], it's really just a bit of whimsical WAFFish Rarity loving, and an excuse to write from the point of view of an outsider looking in.

Published 2011-09-01 21:01:41 UTC
Last updated 2011-09-01 21:23:54 UTC

Chapter 1

The elders had always told you to stay away from the shore.

"Bad things happen to little fillies and colts that stray too near the land," they'd tell you.

You didn't really think much of their fears. Who would harm the prince of Aquatica, after all?

So there you were, but a foal, playing about in the shallows. You had never seen the tide move in so far before; you could almost swim up to where the landwalkers would build little castles in the sand.

With the storms that had been occurring of late, the landwalkers stayed away from the beach. You figured the elders only warned you off because the landwalkers didn't know about Aquatica, or the seaponies.

Your mother had always tried to keep it that way. They didn't speak the same language as your kind, and many times their personal effects had fallen into the seas over the side of the grand ships they used to cross the ocean. They were a strange lot.

Shuffling onto the beach, you found yourself alone on the moist sands. For the first time, you could play at being a landwalker, and it was fun! Even if you were alone under the stormy grey sky.

Using seashells, you formed up a sand castle, but it wasn't the right shape. You couldn't figure out how they got them to sit so cleanly. It didn't help that you didn't have good strong forelegs to do it with. Your fins wouldn't develop much until you were older.

Abruptly, a bright blue bucket clomped down over your pitiful sand-spire, and you squeaked in surprise, looking up.

There standing before you was a landwalker filly with the prettiest blue eyes you'd ever seen. Her indigo mane was curled to one side of the short ivory-colored horn atop her head, and she appeared to be having trouble meeting your gaze.

Abruptly realizing it was because you were staring at her, you blushed and dragged your attention from the pretty filly before you to the bucket, poking at it with a fin.

After a moment, she picked it up, and your misshapen mound of sand had been transformed into a uniform bucket shape. Comprehension! You had never been close enough to see the buckets before.

Smiling, you curled your tail forward, and began carefully etching details into the side as she began to fill the bucket with more sand.

You couldn't guess how long the two of you spent there, working together to build a modest little sand-castle, neither speaking. She didn't seem bothered at all by your scales, or your long tail, or your fins. Once it was finished, you stood back to admire your work, and smiled at each other.

"Raaariteeee!"

Shocked, the filly stood on her hind legs to see over your sand-castle. A dark blue mare was calling her name from further up the shore. Realizing that you'd just spent the past couple of hours in the presence of a landwalker-- and beyond that, that you were in plain sight-- you panicked, tumbling and frantically floundering toward the waves.

"Wait!" The little filly shouted, and as the tide began to pull at your body, you turned. There she stood at the water's edge, a sad look on her pretty face. You heard the mare repeat the word she'd spoken; it must be the filly's name. 'Rarity'.

"I had fun!" She said after a moment, smiling hopefully. You returned it with a smile of your own, and waved a fin at her as the mare arrived at your sandcastle. Even if you didn't know what she was saying, you could at least understand the sentiment.

As she was being admonished, Rarity waved enthusiastically at you, and you smiled again, diving into the waves. Perhaps some day you'd meet her again? The landwalkers didn't seem so bad after all.

Years have passed since that eventful afternoon on the beach. The memory of Rarity always comes to you at times like this, as you're out collecting pearls for some project or another. Perhaps it’s the color of the lacquered stones, so similar to her pale flank.

Perhaps it’s just that the best place for finding pearls happens to be near the beach where you met.

Of late, you've been feeling restless. Your slim seapony tail flits at the sand as you follow your instincts, easily locating another batch of clams, and just as easily coaxing them open with careful caresses and a word of encouragement, just as you were taught. The mussels give their prizes willingly, and you gently bury them again and move to the next batch, depositing them in a woven sun-dried kelp pouch.

On a whim, you slide off your gathering pouch, confident that the weight of the pearls inside is enough to keep the tides from moving it as it sinks softly into the sand. The surface isn't far above you, and it’s been a while since you’ve felt the sun on your face.

A powerful kick of your fins propels you surfaceward, and in a fit of playfulness, you breach the surface like a dolphin, spiraling upward well out of the water. Sunlight shimmers off the waves beneath you as you feel the effects of gravity begin to take hold, and you prepare to turn over for a flawless re-entry.

"C'mawn, Rarity, hurry up with the blanket! Ah cain't hold yer umbrella all darn day!"

The faint voice isn't what throws you off. It's the familiar name that gets your attention, causing you to frantically twist in the air to look toward the shore.

Briefly, a vision of refined beauty in pearl and violet catches your eye, but you're too far from shore to get a good look. Is that your Rarity?

Thoroughly distracted by trying to get a good look at the mare, you ungracefully hit the surface with a loud, wet SLAP, square between crests and flat on your side.

Ignoring the stinging of both pride and flank, you haul yourself under the surface, tail slapping at a wave as you quickly corkscrew down to the seafloor, quickly tangling your fins into a patch of seaweed and holding yourself still against the sand.

You don't want to be seen if it's not Rarity, but your heart is still pounding in your throat. Maybe nostalgia and childhood innocence has inflated your opinion of her.

Maybe she's not the pretty, friendly landwalker you thought she was. Or maybe this is a different Rarity? Perhaps you heard the name wrong? What if it wasn't her name at all?

Determining that nopony seems to have noticed your graceless return to the waves, you slow your racing heart, and carefully unwind the kelp from your fins. The landwalkers made a pier in the time between your last meeting and the present day; perhaps you can use it for cover?

Quickly and carefully, you work your way further toward the shore, ever mindful of both the rapidly lowering water level and the fact that your own deep teal scales stand out sorely against the white sand.

As you cling to the pylon of the pier and carefully raise only the top of your head from the waves, you're greeted to the sight of a small school of landwalkers of varying colors getting set up for a beach picnic. You quickly count five of them; they all appear to be talking rather amicably.

Amid them stands a pearl-flanked unicorn with a large hat and dark sunglasses. Her coloration is the same as the little filly from your memories, but you can't tell yet if it's the same landwalker. Voices float to your ears on the wind, readily audible over the waves.

Briefly, you tilt your head. None of them sound like the one that spoke the name 'Rarity'. Does that mean there are more?

A thump on the wood above you causes you to freeze.

"Phyew! That gal's a real piece o' work."

A sense of dread overtakes you as a pair of orange hooves dangle from the side of the pier, followed by the end of a blonde tail. You quickly begin glancing about the pier, only then realizing your mistake.

The tide isn't all in yet, but the water's still more than shallow enough that if you attempted to head out to sea again, you'd be a big teal target on a big white background.

Resigning yourself to at least a few hours of waiting for the tide, you carefully slip to the other side of the short pier, hidden in its' shadow as your tail wraps around the pylon to hold you in place.

At least you get to see Rarity again, even if it's from afar. If that even -is- her.

The world is dark. Where has everypony gone?

You can't feel the water around you. Where is the pylon? The pier? You can't see the shore. You can't see the waves. You can't even see your fin before your face.

You begin to panic. Something is holding your tail down!

A glimmer appears in the darkness. You try to swim toward it, but your fins won't respond. You feel as if you're sinking.

The glimmer becomes brighter, coalescing into a face. Rarity, as a foal, smiling at you.

The face begins to fade as realization dawns. You don't feel as if you're sinking: you feel as if you're being pulled. The tide is beginning to go out!

The world bursts into light and color when your eyes snap open.

You hear the landwalker on the pier above you say something, but you can't make it out as you duck your head into the water, slapping at your face with your fins to shake the groggy feeling.

The fact that it gives you a chance to berate yourself for dozing off is merely coincidence.

You've slipped quite a distance down the pylon; thankfully, the bank drops off fairly steeply. You figure you have at least an hour at most before you'd have to leave.

"Ah thought'cha said there weren't no storm gonna come rollin' in, Dash?"

You've spent time hiding near landwalker settlements before. You've researched their language. You believe you could probably converse with one, albeit haltingly. You still can't seem to figure out what this landwalker's saying, though.

"Hey, I said I didn't think there'd be a storm. I only work on Ponyville's weather! I can't tell when the weather's gonna change out here, AJ. It’s like the Everfree Forest, it just happens on its’ own."

Another voice, significantly easier to understand, and just as close. When did the other pony get to the pier?

Your question is readily answered when a rainbow-tailed blue cloudwalker launches itself from the pier, arcing back toward the beach. Now that you're paying attention, you see there's another cloudwalker among the school as well, the colors of sand and coral. You must have mistaken them for landwalkers before.

She daintily slips under her saddlebags and stands, moving past the pearl-flanked pony to ask a question of a unicorn with a dark purple mane. A flicker of bright blue snares your attention, and you realize that little Rarity is staring right back at you across time in the face of the sophisticated pony in the big hat and low-resting sunglasses.

"Rarity? Is there something wrong?" The purple-maned unicorn snaps her back to the present, and she glances away.

Panicking, you tug yourself under the surface, your finned ears the only thing above water as you quickly hide behind the pylon.

What you hear next shoots a thrill through your spine when comprehension hits home.

"No no, nothing is wrong, dear. I... believe I'll stay a little longer, if that's alright."

You carefully raise out of the water, peeking around the edge of the barnacled wood.

"Are you sure?" The purple landwalker asks, glancing at the clouds above. "It's going to rain soon. We really should get back to town."

Rarity laughs softly. "Oh, don't worry about me, Twilight! I'll just be a few minutes. I'm on the verge of a fashion breakthrough, I can feel it. I just need a moment to think to myself. Besides, I have an umbrella. I'll be fine!"

Skeptically, Twilight shrugs, turning to join the rest of the school. "Well, okay. Don't wait too long!"

After an assortment of farewells, Rarity turns back to the water, blue eyes searching the waves. You know she's looking for you, but you don't yet want to come out of hiding, not until the others are gone.

As if sensing your thoughts, she calls softly. "You can come out," she ventures. "I'm the only one here."

You slip out a bit from the safety behind the pylon, only to be yanked back against it. Your tail refuses to let go. Fitting, as you're torn between throwing yourself out there to say hello and swimming out to sea like a madcolt and never looking back.

Eventually, you work up your courage, and unwind your tail from the pylon, just as she seems to be giving up hope. She turns to leave as you slip into the waves and pick up speed; years of practice lets you scoop up your pearl satchel at a sprint, and you feel the tide swell before you.

You only have one shot to impress her.

You curve back toward the shore, pushing as hard as you can. Reading the waves, you spot your chance and take it, leaping from the water with a fantastic spray.

Rarity turns at the sound of your breach, shock and awe etched on her face as you sail through the air.

You flash your best smile at her, and spread your fins like wings.

Airborne, you travel just short of three body lengths before hitting the sand face-first with a triumphantly wet *splort!* and all the grace of a sun-addled sea-cow. In your haste, you misread the tide and breached on the ebb flow, robbing you of precious momentum.

Too embarrassed to move, you simply stare at Rarity pitifully as she stifles the urge to laugh. A wave washes back in over you, pushing your emerald mane in your face. At least it hides your shame.

You haul yourself upright, swinging your head back to get the hair out of your way as you slither-crawl your way up the shore, resolving to put the embarrassing moment behind you.

"That was very..." Rarity searches for the right word, fighting to keep the amused smile from her face. "Impressive," she settles on, and once you figure out what it means, you can't help but agree.

"You're the little seapony I met that day, aren't you?" She asks, holding out a forehoof in greeting.

Bowing deeply, you accept the dainty hoof with your fin, pressing to it a genteel kiss. "That I am," you say after a moment, stumbling over the unfamiliar syllables. You notice that she's blushing, and can't help but blush as well.

After a moment of awkward silence, she smiles up at you. "My name is Rarity."

Despite the language barrier, the two of you manage to spend almost a whole hour getting to know each other, seated there on the sand. Rarity is eager to learn about Aquatica, the fashion and high society in particular, and you enjoy the chance to test your linguistic cunning almost as much as you enjoy getting to spend time with her.

A low rumble in the distance draws your attention from the beauty at your side. Curious, you eye the clouds above.

"Is it not to rain soon?" You ask momentarily.

Rarity tilts her head, considering the question. "Hm. Rainbow Dash did say that it was going to--"

She jumps in surprise as lightning strikes well out to sea, ducking against your side. You rest a fin across her shoulders. "You should go," you bluntly state, inwardly dreading the idea.

Sighing, Rarity nods, and flashes that beautiful smile at you again. "I suppose I must. Oh, how I'd love to be able to come back to Aquatica with you." She sighs again wistfully, pulling her saddlebag to her side. "I suppose there's nothing we can do about that, though."

Remembering your own satchel, you pull it around between the two of you, eager to give her something to remember you by. Perplexed by your sudden foalish glee, she watches as you flip the leathery kelp cover open, and gasps.

"Pearls!" She breathes, and her horn flickers alight, several large pearls floating up from the pouch. You dig in the bottom to fish out one as big as a hoof, and she admires her reflection in the iridescent sheen.

"Wherever did you find these?" She asks, and you flick your tail noncommittally toward the ocean.

"I gather them. They are currency for trade, or used for clothing and jewelry." You place the pearl in the satchel, and she sets the small ones back inside as well.

"They're beautiful," she gushes, a starstruck smile on her face. "Oh, I could make such wonderful dresses with them..."

You drape the strap of the satchel about her neck, and she snaps out of her brief day-dream, glancing first down at the gift, then up to you. You refuse to meet her eyes, instead affecting an air of amused indifference. Your tail curls and uncurls reflexively, belying your emotions.

"You... you're giving these to me?" You nod to her question, and shrug, smiling at her.

"I have many of my own. It is a hobby." Your ears flick at the sound of raindrops upon the surface of the water, and Rarity stands as you straighten up, opening her mouth to stammer a reply.

The tip of your tail rests against her lips, silencing her, and you smile. "Go. I will see you soon, yes?"

Not giving her the chance to respond, you start to slither-crawl away with as much dignity as a seapony on land can muster.

"Wait!"

The splashing of hooves in the shallows causes you to turn, and you freeze as she nuzzles into you, burying her face in your neck.

After a moment's shock, you return the affectionate nuzzle, and she pulls away, smiling at you. "Seven days," she says softly as she backs toward the shore. "I'll return in seven days."

As the light sprinkling becomes a more earnest pitter-patter, you bow to her, fighting to maintain your princely demeanor. "I will wait for you." You are the very portrait of control, even though inside you feel like you could fly.

You watch her leave, well before you return to the water yourself; being in the rain does nothing to dull your mood. Neither will your later admonishment for losing your satchel. The elders always warned that the landwalkers were dangerous. Perhaps they are.

Even so, you don’t think that could stop you from coming back to her.

Any relation to people, places, events or ponies, living or dead, is probably intentional, but best assumed coincidental. I hold no ownership of anything found above or below this line, save my own good name.

TwoHadLuckier, 9/1/2011