//------------------------------// // In A Nation Where Nudity Is The Standard, It's 'Exotic Dresser' // Story: Anchor Foal: A Romantic Cringe Comedy // by Estee //------------------------------// It was becoming a little warmer and as far as Fleur was concerned, it wasn't becoming warm enough. She didn't understand how the Weather Bureau operated and after having spent some time within the territory it controlled, had exactly as much of a tooth grip on the why. It was a thought which kept coming back: pegasi had the potential to control every atmospheric aspect of their environment. And to a limited degree, regulation took place. No sporting event was ever rained out, and every street fair could consider itself to be fully protected from the kind of wind gusts which could have a vendor's tarpaulin setting itself up for the second time, six blocks away. Daytime parades would have Sun fully visible, while any Moon visible over the close of Hearts And Hooves Day would find itself illuminating a scene of unseasonable warmth, because the greatest gift you could occasionally offer a new couple in the heart of winter was the chance to get outside. There were things which were controlled. But it wasn't everything. The existence of the Bureau meant that in theory, nopony ever had to be cold. Blistering heat should never force a pony to seek shelter before true danger began to bubble within a saturated coat, because blistering heat should never arise. And yet the Bureau scheduled heavy snowfalls for winter, summer days which saw too much of the population trying to either invoke the seapony myth or find the magic which would turn them into a creature from legend, because the alternative to drowning in a swimming hole just had to be the spontaneous manifestation of gills. Weather magic could arrange for a lifetime of perfect comfort, something where the very concept of extremes had been banished, with winter itself nothing more than a few moons of waiting for a number of blooms to come back -- and still there would be at least one week of ponies hauling and pushing plows. Creating miniature white mountains (well, they started as white) next to their homes, with the narrowest streets becoming something which suggested that travelers were making their way between populated glaciers. The Bureau had the capacity to do so much more, and... they didn't. Fleur didn't understand why, and Canterlot life had offered no true opportunities for destroying the excuse. It was true that the ponies who made up the capital's weather team could often be found at the most elite of parties, because there were times when just about anypony found themselves desiring a tweak to their personal climate: getting to know those who could arrange such favors tended to help. Gaining those invitations could mean a need for escort services. Between casual circulation and direct hires, Fleur had found herself with the chance to directly ask her question -- -- but the only thing she ever got back was the excuse: that was how things were done. Each settled zone followed the schedule, the teams didn't question it, and they never seemed to think about how much more they were capable of. They received their orders from the command center within the perfect climate of the Sphere: for Fleur to reach that required at least one commissioned spell plus somepony standing (or hovering) by to help her get down again -- and she suspected the only result would be to hear exactly the same words, only with the option to also read them from an engraved mission statement. She didn't understand why the use of weather magic was, when looked at from the proper perspective, so limited. Of course, when it came to Ponyville, there was a simpler explanation. You just looked up at the clouds, and then you very carefully listened until you found the one which was snoring. Fleur kept her senses trained (but for one, as Fluttershy was far too close) as they followed the road. The entire trip was technically within the settled zone, but the problem could be located in the first portion of the sentence: technically. Fluttershy lived on the absolute edge of control: the fringe started at the border of her property, and it was all too easy to hear the hungry wild calling during the night. And with Applejack... Fleur wasn't entirely sure how the plant-based portion of mass food production worked. Earth ponies existed and therefore, things were being taken care of: she felt that to be all she truly needed to know. (She considered herself to be an expert on scavenging, but the definition of the term meant it was something which didn't really occur in bulk.) But she was aware that apples came from trees, which took up a certain amount of space. Performing any degree of math with crop requirements demanded a space in which the numbers could dance, and the minimum amount of land needed was something which couldn't be hosted within a town. Ponyville was partially surrounded by a ring of farmland: something which had created extra roads. There were times when it was easier to cut through the center, but other paths simply asked travelers to skirt along the edge for a while. It was, for another level of technicality, safe. It was also the sort of safety which required at least one pony to be paying attention to the environment at all times, and so it successfully passed itself off as civilization. "How much further?" Her straining ears (and that was probably doing something harsh to the fur around the base) had just picked up on the first babble of conversation -- but sound could carry a long way. "...a few minutes," Fluttershy apologized. "We're... actually on the edge of her property now. If you look to the left..." Which momentarily put just about every sense on the highest of alerts, because this was an area which produced food and they were right on the border of it -- -- shadows passed over Fleur's back. There was a rustling sound from overhead, followed by a soft whistling. And then the breeze died down again, allowing the branches to shift back to their side of the newly-manifested fence. ...oh. "Why the fence?" It felt like a natural question: when it came to protecting territory, the height was something an earth pony could readily jump, while unicorns would have no trouble fetching fruit from this side. Pegasi challenged with fencing just tended to giggle a lot. And now that Fleur thought about it, the first advantage to farming plants seemed to be a guarantee that when you got up in the morning, your food supply would be exactly where you'd left it. "...defining the border," her charge softly replied. "That's about it, really. She understands that it's impossible to completely secure the Acres, especially when they're so big. Spells which picked up on something entering her territory... she had that talk with Twilight, years ago. They would have to account for weight, just so it wasn't going off every time a small animal came in. That still lets fillies and colts wander through. And with all the land... even if she did hear the alarm, she might not get to the breach point in time. So she doesn't use that kind of magic, because it isn't practical. Most of the Acres' security comes from Applejack." The next statement had been outright begged: the actual words removed all of that while replacing it with placid inquiry. "From her." "...yes." "Without magic." "...it's more like... limited precognition," Fluttershy quietly failed to explain. Fleur's head turned very slightly to the right. Calm eyes regarded her charge. "...potential trespassers predicting what's going to happen, based on everything that's happened before. They know what happens when she catches somepony trying to steal apples, because the ones who get caught have to tell the doctor how they wound up with half the canopy raining down on their heads." Slightly-oversized wings shifted, with yellow feathers rippling through their version of the near-silent giggle. "...that's actually how she met Rainbow for the first time." It was all too easy to picture, and Fleur's somewhat-chilled imagination was happy to add a few extra injuries. "When did that happen?" "...just after Rainbow moved to Ponyville. They... needed some time to work it all out. But ponies know how Applejack feels about theft." The pegasus paused. "She doesn't mind fair trade. You can go into the Acres and take some fruit, as long as you drop your bits into one of the collection tubes, or pass them to Applejack when she shows up. And she marks the trees which anypony can harvest from. But just sneaking in and out -- she catches enough of them to make the rest afraid, and Miranda's always said that since it's Applejack's property, there won't be any charges involved unless it goes past bruising. And just before cider season starts... that's usually ponies just trying to get some idea of when the first day is. Trying to see which trees are being harvested, or getting close enough to smell the spices." Miranda. So Fluttershy was on a first-name basis with the police chief. "...the really stupid ones try to reach the press," Fluttershy added. "At night. To get the first sips. That's where Applejack let Twilight put the spells last year. Those ponies stopped after Applejack towed the last three across the bridge while they were all still upside-down." The image began to assemble itself -- then paused to acquire extra details. "Floating?" "...they wished they were floating... We take the left path here." The coral mane shifted accordingly. "...this is going to bring us in at the front of the line: it stretches back towards Ponyville. So we'll have to work our way back to the end. But that'll also let us see just how many ponies already set up their tents." Her charge pushed against the cart's hitch with a little extra force, skipping a wheel across a little pothole in the road. "Maybe there won't be that many yet..." "...see?" From just about any other pony, it would have been an open declaration of triumph: with Fluttershy, it emerged as a gentle offer of compensation to the very world, trying to atone for the offense of having been right. "...there aren't that many yet!" Fleur's gaze slowly, carefully worked its way across the visible length of the line for the second time. "This," a surprisingly-hollow voice said, "doesn't count for 'that many'?" "...the last plumes of smoke stop before the second ridge..." Fleur continued to regard the gathering, because it was possible to learn many things about Ponyville through examining that line. The night before cider sales debuted offered the opportunity to gain an education on multiple subjects. There were lessons waiting for the observant along the length, and some of those would take a long time to truly recognize. But for what could be determined immediately... She'd already recognized that the majority of ponies didn't really think about the Weather Bureau's true potential. The night had become warmer as they'd approached the Acres -- but it still wasn't warm enough for fully-exposed fur, and not everypony had dressed for the thermal occasion. Autumn chill had only been moderated to the point where movement was encouraged, because to stop moving was to give the season a chance to fully exert itself against skin. It encouraged a certain amount of circulation, and so ponies were moving along the line. Some of them used the chance to speak with friends. Others were organizing small-scale sporting events. A number had considered that everypony would eventually need a place where they could stop moving, and so a number of campfires were adding their own illumination to a half-Moon night. Coronas contributed occasional lumens to the evening, and the distant glow of a warm farmhouse was just barely visible at the far left. It gave her a glimpse into another part of Ponyville's social web: where some of the relationships were, a number of the more casual connections, and she didn't need her talent to be active in order to spot a few of the more fumbling advances. It also told her something about the local parental standards, because everypony she could spot was an adult. (There would eventually be one exception.) There were ponies setting up grills for peppers, and those were generally next to troughs which wafted some fairly suspicious (and likely homemade) scents into the air. It was the sign of a gathering which had no intention of going to sleep before the next grill in line surrendered: the winner would be the pony who first spotted Sun, presuming they were still capable of identifying it. Fillies and colts presented with that sort of environment generally began to stumble in ever-shrinking circles of I'm Awake! shortly after midnight, and so they were either already asleep in the tents or resting at home, secure in the knowledge that their parents were holding a place for them in the morning -- "-- tomorrow's a school day, isn't it?" Fluttershy nodded. "...yes. Applejack usually likes to start on a weekend, but she doesn't always have much control over when cider season starts. 'Ah mull when the apples say so.' And everypony thinks the first morning when it's ready is the best one, so... the line started tonight." -- or in this case, standing ready to bring some of the mysterious beverage home. Watching the line could tell an observer a lot about Ponyville. Most of it would qualify for trivia: you could find out who enjoyed board games, along with which one was currently popular: one nearby setup had reached what sounded like the second hour of trying to explain the rules, along with why sheep would want to trade for wood in the first place. Closer scrutiny identified not only couples, but the relative state of health for the relationship: those whose bonds weren't as secure could be spotted on body posture alone. It was easy to figure out which kind of firewood was most popular: all anypony had to do was sniff the air a few times. You could learn a lot of things about Ponyville from watching the line, and the first was that arriving at this hour already had it stretching out of sight, which implied that either the beverage was just that compelling or nopony had been capable of thinking up anything else to do on that night. High among Fleur's current dreads was the possibility of having the second Town Facts educational entry on the list turn into 'approximate population.' I am not waiting at the end of the line. It almost didn't matter where that end currently was, because waiting was something which occupied time. There was a chance to circulate, explore the social web, and see just what vibrated when her forehooves plucked against the strands -- but there was also going to be waiting involved and worse, waiting where the only thing to do was wait. It was offensive. It was something which let her feel the weight of her sentence grinding against her fur. And if she was going to be stuck in a position where waiting was the only thing possible, then she was going to wait for the shortest amount of time which could be arranged. "Can we just set up at the front?" All of the hope had been kept out of the question, mostly because she hadn't really had any. Hope tended to work against its possessor, because a pony who was relying on Hope wasn't putting any energy towards Practical Solutions. "I'm sure Applejack wouldn't mind giving the first spot over to a friend --" The coral mane gently shook. "...she says... it's more fair if she doesn't play favorites. When everypony knows they have the chance to be first, if they just work hard enough for it. She's... said she's sorry for that. A few times. But it's her reputation, and if she loses that..." It gave Fleur an explanation she could accept, if not necessarily agree with. Reputation was vital. However, making sure you made the right ponies happy was something which could improve that standing with a carefully-selected group: the key was making sure the boosted parties would protect you from all who had been offended by the exclusion. Given that Applejack was a Bearer, any shield against reprisal felt as if it had been created by the title. What was Ponyville going to do if the farmer provided the first spot to a friend? Huffily demand that she not save the world? But that was the sort of argument best made in private, directly to the earth pony in question -- and that mare was nowhere in sight. Admittedly, the very large earth pony stallion who was surveying the line from the other side of the fence stood a good chance to be related: eyes and mark suggested the bonds of blood, somepony who could potentially clear a space... but he didn't know Fleur on a personal level, and Fluttershy wouldn't ask. "It's too long," Fleur solidly stated. "And it'll look longer in the morning, when we're watching everypony shuffling along in front of us." For a drink of unknown quality, in a town whose entertainment highlight was a cinema, where bowling alleys were still in fashion and a school play served as the height of drama productions. "We're not setting up at the back." A back which had probably moved a few dozen body lengths closer to Town Hall while she'd been deciding to avoid it. With open disappointment, tinged with something else that a surveying escort initially missed, "...so you're going home? I understand if you don't want to wait, but it moves pretty quickly in the morning. It really does. And you... you said we'd do this together --" "-- I'm not going back into town." Not yet, anyway. She was holding onto that option for much later in the night, because if she found herself too tired to stay awake, she would need a place to rest and the tent couldn't be it. That would leave her racing for the Acres once Sun was raised, but -- when it came to keeping others from overhearing, it was her own blanket nest or none. She'd left the box in her rental, and was still trying to figure out a more secure location for it. There had to be somewhere... "But we're not waiting in this line, either. Not at the end of it," Fleur reinforced. Blue-green eyes took their own cautious survey. "...everything between the end and the front," Fluttershy carefully decided, "...is taken. Applejack honors swagger-lairs --" this with a nod toward a floating hollow of vapor "-- but you have to set up the cloud as its own place in line, not hovering over somepony else's. And..." There was just enough light to see the blush beginning to rise under the fur. "...I'm not good at molding: it's why I have a tent. And even if I could make something for two, it still means you wouldn't have a place to sleep, because you can't cast the cloudwalking spell --" There was some open curiosity in the newest head tilt. "-- can you?" Fleur shook her head. I tried. Over and over. It would have made things so much easier... "It's too long to wait," the escort stated. "You shouldn't have to wait." "...it really does move pretty quickly once it gets going --" And that was where the unicorn lost the rest of the sentence, because the same thing could be said of Fleur. She didn't have an earth pony's strength, and that power was part of what gave them their speed. For ground races, with size, mass, and condition being equal among all participants, the earth ponies were generally going to win. But she kept herself in shape, because that was part of what was expected from the majority of escorts. (There was a place for the overweight, and some puzzle pieces longed for the sort of cushioning which was probably best off relocating itself to a doctor's office for immediate diet advice.) She was also tall, and longer legs covered more ground on each stride. It let her get ahead of Fluttershy before the pegasus could truly react, much less unhitch yellow-furred shoulders from the cart, and a few more quick hoofsteps allowed the activation of Fleur's talent. It wasn't fully about having her charge out of range. Under normal circumstances, Fleur's deepest magic had a sphere of effect: she could sense pieces in pegasi who happened to be passing by overhead. But she had explored her talent to a level where most ponies never ventured, and intense concentration allowed her to temporarily focus that magic as a narrow cone, sweeping across the line. She couldn't keep it up for long, and any lapse would bring Fluttershy's sad white slate back into focus. But for as long as it lasted -- -- earth pony majority town, residents who aren't interested in anything but earth ponies. I am not dealing with that piece when the nearest shower is at least ten hours away. Exclusively homosexual and... just starting to let himself explore it? That's unusual at his age... ...and there we go. Fleur, when comparing the available puzzles to the masterwork gallery assembled within her soul, had been willing to accept a fairly large number of solutions. For her current goal, she simply needed aspects to match, and they didn't even have to apply to Fleur: not when Fluttershy would be scrambling to catch up at any second. The ideal was to find the necessary pieces hosted in those who were fairly young, rather dumb, and willing to let hormones substitute for any intelligence they had remaining. There were no children in the line, she hadn't seen a single adolescent, and both age categories were forever off-limits -- but those who had just physically crossed the line into adulthood were equally acceptable and vulnerable. As for the approach... well, that took place with what a filly had recently informed her was a singularly distinctive sway of hips. Her tail shifted to suit, ears lofted into a position which implied both great interest in the two barely-stallions she was approaching along with a chance of other positions, and a warm, hopeful smile found itself lighting up her features to a degree which Moon could never hope to match. The males in front of the solitary fire and doubled tents watched as she approached, and nothing in them was capable of stopping. The slightly taller abruptly decided that the best place for his barrel was pressed against the road, because adulthood came with a certain mastery of self-control and in terms of accumulated years, he absolutely had it. The adulthood. Self-control would presumably be along at any minute, and he was just assuming a comfortable posture while he waited. She had already examined their pieces. Getting a clear firelit look at their features only helped. They were both the sort of stallions who could be described as having a steadily-increasing temporal-based attractiveness: if you were still at the bar around four in the morning and they were the last choices available, they might actually start to look somewhat good. It was the sort of pairing which hung out with each other not only due to friendship, but for a readily-available source of consolation when the midnight attempt failed again. They were the sort of stallions who had to be kept away from exotic dresser clubs at all costs, because a single wink would tell their souls that the corset was being donned for them alone. (The problem implied by 'them alone' would eventually manifest itself. This usually happened in the alley behind the club, and to the bruised victor would go the prize of the initial tip-created bankruptcy.) They were, in just about every way, perfect. Fleur considered herself to be providing a public service. It was putting them on the receiving end of a master-level course, and when it came to the clubs, that was the sort of thing you usually had to pay for. "Oh, thank Moon!" she smiled, adding a little I-ran-all-the-way-to-get-here-and-I-still-look-like-this pant to the end of it. "I was so hoping somepony could help me!" (Hasty, awkward wingbeats reached her ears, and she shut her talent down again.) "I just know you can help me..." added a little head tilt to the right, along with a tiny shift of her mane and widening, hopeful eyes "...can't you?" The taller's belly ground itself against the dirt. Fleur's sarcastic guess was an attempt to dig out a protective trench. "I... hope so," he swallowed. "What's the problem?" "Well," Fleur beamed as Fluttershy touched down behind her, "I know you recognize my companion! And I promised her that we'd come out to the line tonight and do our best to get cider, but... I'm also sure you've been aware of just how tumultuous the continent has been lately --" "Um," tried the smaller, mostly as a stalling mechanism, as blood had moved away from the portion which was needed to figure out 'tumultuous' and he couldn't do anything about getting it back. "-- and, well... honestly, it might take Moon's own blessing to not be called away during the night." The smile became a little shy. "It's nothing you should worry about, really. International things. Classified. I'm sure you understand." "...um..." came from directly behind her, and did so with decidedly more expertise. Fleur's tail elegantly swayed, and did so in a way which only incidentally brushed against Fluttershy's snout three times. "So," she brightly continued as she flicked the styled hairs away from the sneeze, "we were hoping to be here so much earlier! So that if we got to see Sun -- well, in Ponyville -- there would be a chance to get cider before she was called -- oh, but I suppose that could resolve itself through diplomatic channels if we're lucky, but..." Fleur sighed, allowed a little sadness to suffuse elegant eyelashes, and watched the stallions closely. They were both visibly thinking. But her smile was still warm, and so they were doing so with parts which hadn't been intended for the task. There was a rustle of fabric, somewhere behind them: it stood out because it took place in the sort of deliberate silence which allowed Fleur to hear hearts beating at an increasing rate, because even internal organs could suffer from hope. And then she blinked. ...what? The action repeated, and did so until the dazzle went away. It didn't do much to help her crafted countenance -- but the stallions were too hormone-flooded to notice, Fluttershy hadn't finished sneezing yet, and... for a second, it had been as if dark blue light had flashed into her eyes. (She had to refocus her attention on the stallions, and so only learned of what had happened afterwards. All she heard was another rustle, like a tent flap dropping back. The words would come later, and each would extract a price.) "What can we do?" the shorter stallion almost desperately asked. "Because we're always happy to help a Bearer! And a Bearer's -- friend? Um... you're... together. You do things together, so... are there -- other things you..." I win. "Well..." Fleur smiled. She'd never intended to cut into the line. A farmer who didn't save spots for her friends in the name of fairness probably had Views on cutting. (The capital felt borrowed, and also justified.) And while the stallions clearly stood/slumped ready to allow it, cutting had the side effect of angering everypony behind them. Sharing the space wasn't an option. Sharing meant hours upon hours of stallions. Fleur could hold a smile for a very long time, but there was only so long she could keep Fluttershy sneezing before somepony tried to send for a doctor. Really, when you looked at it sensibly, there was just one option which would keep the herd happy. "Would you be willing to swap spots with us? Just to make sure she gets her cider? You can have this one back if we wind up leaving before Sun-raising," Fleur generously added. "Just so somepony gets the benefit of it." "...um..." Fleur's tail moved. "...aa-choo!" "And she might be getting a cold," Fleur kicked in. "So you can see the problem." "-- swap," the now-very-hunched stallion said. Fleur's irises glistened with carefully-summoned moisture. "Please?" He swallowed. "Where's your spot?" "Well," Fleur ruefully smiled, "we did just get here..." Fluttershy kept... looking at her. It was a strange sort of look. Fleur had been on the receiving end of a focus which was somewhat like it before. It was the sort of look which suggested that both parties were better off if only one eye was involved. There was also a peripheral hint that Fleur would have been better off letting the stallions take the campfire with them, just to make that look a little harder to see. (There were also other ponies watching, because there were two extremely attractive mares in the same area. The fact that the area had, until a few minutes prior, been in the possession of somepony else, seemed to have them watching from a subtly increased distance.) "That's not helping with the tent," the unicorn stated. The look intensified. Selected portions of Fleur's coat twitched. She wasn't sure why and even worse, she hadn't been doing the selecting. "I haven't set this up before," Fleur added. "You have. So you have to take the lead and show me where everything goes --" Just barely above a whisper, "...that wasn't... nice." There were several ways to respond, and Fleur discarded everything which would have been insulting. False innocence, ignoring the statement, the little dismissive smile... none of them were suitable, because this was Fluttershy. With Fluttershy, there were other tactics available. "It was practical. You're a government employee. Technically. And you could be called away at any moment." As far as Fleur was concerned, having the palace summon Fluttershy out of the line was a very real possibility. Her charge could be taken away with no word as to the reason, the threat being faced, the chance of coming back -- "...you were talking about -- international --" "-- there's always something going on internationally," Fleur stated. "There's an impeachment attempt under way in Protocera." "...there is?" "Someone is President," Fleur definitively told her charge. "That means someone else isn't. So there's an impeachment attempt, because that might make those positions swap. That's just how things work." It wasn't as if Celestia had ever had to face down the talons and claws of real politics... "So I swapped two other positions, because if you do get called away for anything in the morning, then you might have the chance to get cider first. I have to look out for your needs. Not theirs." Fluttershy didn't say anything. She simply reared up for a moment, and her left forehoof came down on the nearest tent stake. Fleur didn't flinch or pull back. Looking down was completely safe, because it was Fluttershy. But she kept looking for just a little too long. She is stronger than she looks. The road wasn't cobblestoned, but the dirt was decently packed. To have driven the stake that deep on a single impact -- "...do you think about that a lot?" "The missions?" (The yellow head just barely inclined.) "Sometimes. It's harder to make plans for you, because I can't be sure you'll be there. Or when you'll be back. I didn't get any updates from the palace during the last one. All I could do was -- wait." The next tent stake seemed to enter the ground on the power of suggestion. "...I know that's hard," her charge softly said. "Snowflake's talked about it. That it's just... waiting." Fleur silently nodded. One tent rope seemed to be out of position: her field quickly adjusted it. "...it's worst for Applejack and Rarity," the pegasus quietly continued. "Their families are here. My parents usually only know about a mission if I write them after. Most of the things we do don't get into the newspapers. But when you leave in front of your family..." Apple Bloom. She'd seen the filly a few times now. There was still an innocence there, something which had to be protected. But innocence always died. A big sister who had to leave home, who never knew what she was going to face and then the sound stopped "...I wish... I wish I could tell you that we're all okay," Fluttershy whispered. "But we can't always send things back, even when it's not classified. I'm sorry for making ponies worry. I just don't know how to fix it. I didn't worry as much about that when it all started, because... my friends were there with me, my parents don't know, and the animals... don't know to worry, mostly. But then Snowflake moved here, and... it's more than just the cottage now. I don't know how to fix it." Celestia could probably fix it. If there was communication magic strong enough to reach the cottage from anywhere, then the palace would have access to those spells. There just might not have been any effort -- "...and it's... part of what we were talking about before, after I came home. Anypony who would be with me... has to wait. Even when it hurts. Even when they don't know if I'm coming back. They have to believe I'll come back, because... it gives me something else I can come back to..." She didn't approach, because they were teacher and charge. She simply watched, and waited until Fluttershy had wiped her eyes against the tent. Right next to the char of dragonfire. "...somepony strong," the pegasus finally continued. "Strong enough to wait for me, and to believe I'll come back when the wait is over. That... won't be easy to find, will it?" Fleur silently shook her head. "...I have to love somepony enough," Fluttershy finished, "to take a chance on hurting them every day." And then both eyes were looking at Fleur. "How can I do that?" her charge asked, and waited. There were so many things Fleur could have said to that. But it was the sort of question where lies were always uncovered in the end, and -- -- this ends eventually, one way or another. I -- -- I don't want her to hate me. "It's not something you have to try for," Fleur gently offered. "When the love is there... the strength comes with it. You accept the risk, and the chance that there might be an end. There's always an end. When there's love..." the mindless clacking "...Fleur?" White fur ruffled. "...are you okay? You just -- stopped --" "-- I was thinking about how to put it," the escort softly countered. "Fluttershy, I'm going to say this directly, because I think you understand it better than just about anypony alive." And took what was almost the deepest, slowest breath of her life. "Death is -- inevitable. Love isn't a shield. When two love each other -- there's just about always going to be one who dies first. Passing away together, at the same time... that's stories or the sort of accident where you probably don't even get the chance to look at each other first. One survives. One has to find a way to go on. And that means that at the instant you realize you love some -- somepony, you know you might hurt them. Even if you do everything right, even if all the fights are little ones, things you laugh about after..." She didn't seem to be aware of her tail's position. Of how many ponies had camped out in the line. "...somepony will die first." If she had a tail at all. "It could be you. You'll be gone, that's going to hurt them, and -- all you can do is hope that the good times gave them enough memories to get through the pain. That being with you was worth it. Because there's a saying I think you've heard, as a vet. You..." She had to gather strength from somewhere. From her heart, perhaps. She just had to figure out where that was. "You pay..." "You pay," Fluttershy gently finished, "on the back end. Is that the one? You romp with a kitten, you giggle at a chick. You play with the cat and nuzzle the parrot. But when they get old, or sick... when they die before we do... you have to be there. And if you can't bring back all the good times, if you can't balance that against watching them go and say it was worth it, after the crying stops..." Even for her charge, the sigh was exceptionally soft. "You pay for all of the joy on the back end, at the end of their lives," the pegasus stated. "And if you can't accept that, then you're not somepony who should have a pet. And maybe you're not somepony who should be in love. Fleur, you're a little too close to the fire --" The unicorn located her legs just in time to step back. "I thought you'd understand," the escort said. "Yes, that's the saying. You pay on the back end. And it's not just illness or age. There's accidents, and -- everything else. You can't know when the bill is coming due, or if you're the one who has to pay it. So you always have to decide if you're willing to pay, if you're somepony who can think about the cost at all. Love is risk, Fluttershy. Every time." The pegasus nodded. That was all. Just a nod, with both eyes visible and the world around them obscured. "Somepony who truly loves you will take the chance," Fleur concluded. "And you'll take that chance with them." Fluttershy looked at her for a few more seconds. And then the shapely head turned back towards what was supposed to be emerging as a tent. Ropes were pulled. Panels shifted. A few bits of char fell away. "...it still doesn't feel right," the pegasus eventually said. "Maybe you were talking about a possible mission like it was just that, only more towards probable. But there was still hip swaying. You were using your looks to get ahead." Fleur's first reaction was a distant sort of pleasure at Fluttershy even having noticed. "You use what you have. Everypony does. Education, mark, talent, connections. What if somepony had bribed those two for the spot?" Fluttershy thought about that. "...that's more fair." Fleur blinked. "How?" "...well... not everypony is beautiful. But anypony could become rich..." She managed to keep the initial part of the laughter internal and, when the struggle to hold the mirth within became too much to deal with, decided it was the perfect time to take up a tent rope in her mouth.