//------------------------------// // Orange // Story: Stone Hearts // by pmcollectorboy //------------------------------// Orange The warm and inviting beams of the sun, Celestia's life-giving orb, streamed through the windows of the Carousel Boutique, bathing the show room inside its blue and white walls in a cascade of light. It was early morning and about the time for Rarity to open up her shop for business. However, instead of busying herself with the affairs of her shop, unlocking the doors, and turning over her open sign, Rarity was in her bedroom, eyeballing the odd book she had just recently placed on the plush comforter of her bed. Earlier she had just come from Twilight's home in the library and from persuading her friend to lend her the book. She marveled at just how little pressure it took to convince Twilight to agree to her terms, but after both getting the most gorgeous sleep either could remember, Twilight didn't seem to be complaining anytime soon, which was a switch from last night when Twilight insisted the golemology book was too dangerous to give to Rarity. Rarity didn't know if Twilight made it a point not to loan the book to just unicorns. She honestly never got around to asking because in the morning, the purple unicorn's mood had improved so much she was actually making breakfast in bed for Rarity and whistling a tune. Rarity departed Twilight's home a short while ago, after gratefully accepting her meal and thanking Twilight, but leaving Twilight with the sticky situation of explaining to Spike what Rarity was doing there and why the studious one insisted on doing her own laundry so early in the morning. Rarity felt a twinge of guilt for manipulating Twilight's friendship for something so trivial as a book, but she felt their relationship had come far enough along that the occasional coercive expression of bedroom prowess wasn't that too far-fetched of an idea. As of that moment, Rarity concentrated too much on determining what to do with the book's contents, whether to open it or leave it for another day, to entertain thoughts of doubt and guilt trips. The book was a dusty gray and easily three inches thick. The binding and front cover were trimmed with brown edges and three leather ridges, two horizontal and one vertical on the front cover, divided the binding into sections. A gruesome image of a pony made of twisted branches, gracing the front cover and bearing a twisted countenance, its eyes burning embers of dark and red, seemed to represent a golem of wood and the rituals that lay within. As Rarity studied the characters on the back and front, she suddenly remembered where she had seen runes before. A couple weeks ago, she had borrowed a couple encyclopedias on dead alphabets from Twilight after a customer had made a strange request for a custom designed stage outfit. None of the runes on the cover of the book before her matched what she remembered, however. Rarity shook her head, turned around, and left the book unopened. "Okay, Rarity. Get a grip. You're not going crazy," she said as she lightly pounded her forehead with her right front hoof. "You don't need a shrink. But maybe an itsy bitsy vacation wouldn't hurt. You'll just take a small peak at the book, satisfy your curiosity, convince yourself that they don't have any power over you, and be done with it. Then it is pleasant dreams from now on. Especially when I have Big MacIntosh help me carry Tom, I mean, the boulder to toss it off a cliff." Then, after a small beat of silence, Rarity added, musing to herself, "Yeah... You don't need a shrink, but then why am I talking to myself?" With a huff, Rarity headed downstairs and into her show room. But instead of opening up her store as was customary, she erected a sign with a clock face in her store window, with the hands of the clock completely removed. This was her usual way of telling the customers "closed until further notice." She was expecting an off day anyway. As Rarity stepped out into the warmth of daylight, she once again smiled at the cloudless sky and gentle embrace of the rays of the sun as it climbed its way towards ten o'clock. The rainstorm that Ponyville had received last night trickled out early in the morning, squeezing out the last bit of moisture by the dawn. She turned down a road and headed towards Sweet Apple Acres just as the town hall bell sounded out ten times. After a short walk across town and over the small bridge straddling a gentle creek, the scent of apples of various kinds, reds and golds and even galas, let Rarity know she was nearing her destination, and she took a big breath to enjoy the tantalizing aroma. Applejack's big red barn came into view first as she rounded a grove of trees, and then the fields where the crops less important to Applejack's business were planted. Out in the middle of one of the fields, which had been stripped of its grass and turned to sod, was Big MacIntosh, pulling a plow down the field's length to carve grooves for planting. With a smile, Rarity headed over to where the workhorse was furiously laboring. Upon spotting the fashionista trotting over to him, Big MacIntosh stopped his plowing, unhitched his plow from his yoke, and politely nodded. Rarity returned the nod but kept all her hooves outside the dirt patch. "Good mornin', Miss Rarity," Big MacIntosh greeted in his well known slow drawl. "Applejack's out on an errand tah buy tools and other hardware things from th' hardware store. She's better at pickin' things for th' raht job than me." "Actually, Big MacIntosh, I'm here about possibly utilizing your big and strong muscles for some purpose I'm in need of fulfilling," Rarity crooned, laying extra sugary emphasis on the words 'big and strong.' For a moment, Big MacIntosh was silent, which wasn't all that unusual for Big MacIntosh, except that this time he bore a look that suggested he had been rendered completely devoid of all mental capacity and sensory functions. But the short pause finally gave way to speech. "Ah don't usually see yew too far from your booteek, an' certainly not around here on th' farm too often unless it's tah see Applejack. An' you're sayin' you're here tah see ME instead?" queried Big Mac. Rarity nodded. Big Mac balked. "Ah don't know, Miss Rarity. Ah imagine it would upset Applejack a might if she came back an' found me gone or not doin' mah work. Kin ah ask Applejack when she gets back?" Rarity scraped the ground with a front hoof. "It's rather urgent. It involves moving a certain large and heavy rock from my property. The sooner it gets, uh, evicted the better." "Oh. Well couldn't yew ask Twilight tah...?" "I'm afraid that after all I've put her through with the whole Discord and chaos thing, Twilight is sick unto death about anything to do with moving the boulder around. It has to be you, and it has to be now. So..." Rarity turned around and goosed Big Mac's chin with her tail. "What do you say?" Rarity had never worked on Big MacIntosh's hair before, so she never got a good grasp for the manageableness of the stallion's mane, but she had never seen a cowlick develop on his head, until now, and the tallest, stiffest cowlick she had ever seen had just sprung up like a baby pine tree in the middle of the poor stallion's hair. She walked away as fast as she could manage without looking conspicuous about it, to avoid Big Mac seeing Rarity break into an attack of giggling. But Big Mac was suddenly following her without question. The two were certain an unusual sight for the average Ponyvillean. A dusty working farm stallion with no love for looks or hair care, and a unicorn famed in the town for her grace, charm, and attention to details of aesthetics and fashion, walking through town like they were in the Haycy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, with the unicorn leading. They made their way through town and arrived at Carousel Boutique, where Rarity pointed out the offending boulder. Big MacIntosh leaned down and flexed his powerful muscles, remembering the proper techniques of lifting. Before too long, he had Tom on his back. "And where would yew like me tah take this here rock?" "Oh I don't really care," Rarity sniffed. "We can take it to a quarry or just toss it off a cliff. As long as it's out of sight and not ruining the beauty of my decor, it's all the same to me." Big MacIntosh nodded. "Ah think ah know of a cliff that overlooks an old quarry." "That'll do just fine. Thank you, Big MacIntosh." The pair left Carousel Boutique, with Big Mac lugging the boulder on his back and seemingly not even breaking a sweat. Rarity followed Big Mac as he headed towards the other side of town and some rocky outcroppings in the wilderness beyond. However, as they walked along, Rarity felt a calling inside her mind again. She shook her head, like she was clearing out the fuzz from just waking up, but the voice came back stronger than ever. She looked beyond Big MacIntosh, past the forest line, and saw the rocky outcroppings and the cliff beyond looming ever closer. "Don't get rid of me, Rarity," the voice said. "The Tom that you knew is still in here. Don't let him toss me off a cliff." "No," Rarity whispered, unheard by Big Mac. "You were an illusion by Discord." "Tom is all yours, Rarity. All yours. You and Tom could do great things together." "All... mine? Yes." Rarity became glassy-eyed as Discord's old illusion temporarily took a hold on her. Big Mac neared the cliffside, and Rarity, panicking, increased her pace to catch up to him. "Um. I beg your pardon, Big Mac dear, but I've changed my mind. I'd actually like Tom back," Rarity asked, her voice quivering with anxiety and sweat dripping from her forehead. Big Mac stopped twenty feet from the edge of the cliff and stared at Rarity, his jaw slack, looking like he was slow to process Rarity's unusual request. "Uh... Tom? Beggin' your pardon, Miss Rarity, but are you...?" 'Good HEAVENS, he talks so slow,' Rarity thought to herself, the adrenaline and anxiety flooding her blood stream and mental state respectively, distorting her sense of time. Finally, she couldn't stand seeing Tom still on the farm pony's back and hearing him, at least according to her stretched out senses, yammering on for an intolerable amount. "Mine! Hooves off!" Rarity exclaimed in an extraordinary loss of composure she hadn't felt since The Gala. Whump! "Ow!" Rarity had actually body checked the stallion, which proved to be more painful for her than possibly to him, as Big Mac just lay on the ground and stared up at her blankly, while she gritted her teeth as every muscle in her left side smarted. Nevertheless, she had succeed in relieving Applejack's brother of the boulder, and it had landed squarely on her back. Rarity flashed Big Mac an apologetic smile and then, heaving her shoulders to adjust the position of Tom on her back, strained her muscles against gravity to start the arduous trek back to her home. * * * Back at Ponyville Library, Spike busied himself with various chores, mostly re-alphabetizing the library's books by title, undoing Twilight's handiwork of organizing them by author even though she couldn't recall the names of most of them. He had just settled into swallowing Twilight's explanation for what Rarity had been doing there spending the night when he didn't remember a sleepover being planned. He still viewed Twilight's suddenly chipper attitude with mild suspicion, though. All morning she had been bounding around, a cheerful joy in her step, humming a strangely familiar tune as she went about doing the one thing she usually hated the most--laundry. Then, as if on cue, the door threw itself open, and Twilight waltzed through from outside, singing the same said tune. Outdoors, illuminated by the morning light, several linen sheets waved like flags in the summer breeze on clotheslines, visible to Spike through the open door. "La la la la laaaaa. La la la la luuuuuuuh," Twilight sang. She gave a little twirl and then scooped up Spike, placing him on her back. "Lovely morning to you, Spike. You know Fluttershy taught me that song." "You don't say? Ulp," Spike uttered, suddenly airsick from the sudden velocity with which he was lifted and Twilight's skipping around. "No more chores for you today, Spike. It's such a great morning outside that I've planned a picnic. Just you and me. I've actually already got the basket all prepared." Twilight put Spike down and allowed him to catch his breath. When his stomach had settled, he looked up at his oldest and closest friend. Joy filled his heart and his eyes shimmered with a sudden onset of emotion. "You...You mean it? Really?" Spike squeaked, almost half blubbering. Twilight levitated a wicker basket stuffed with goodies over from the kitchen table and handed it to Spike. Then, with a motion of her head towards the small of her back, she said, "Come on, friend." Spike, clutching the basket's handle tightly, hopped on, and the two of them headed out the door. Twilight made her way towards Ponyville Park and scouted out a verdant, plush patch of grass underneath a sturdy oak tree, enjoying the comfort of the shade when the two friends sat down beneath its reaching branches. Spike hopped off Twilight's back and placed the picnic basket on the ground while Twilight folded her legs underneath herself and smiled as the breeze embraced her and the serenading melodies of song birds came to her ears. As she heard the clicks and clacks and shuffles of Spike unpacking the basket, she slowly turned her head, panning her vision across the scenery, spotting the wooden bench where many a couple shared their first dates, smiling as she viewed the pristine lake it overlooked and the patchwork pointillism of the wild flowers on the shore, and enjoying the flowers' aromatic greeting. Twilight allowed herself to be lulled into a daydream by the droning of the bees and hummingbirds. Next to her, Spike busied himself with rolling out the blanket and laying out the goodies--daisy and sunflower sandwiches, hay fries, cookies, and of course, bits of gemstones for Spike. But just as the full effect of Twilight's reverie took hold with the addition of the new aroma of edible treats, out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted a white blur move itself into her vision. She banished her daydream reluctantly, and as her eyes adjusted once more, she saw Rarity making her way towards her. Twilight stood up and stretched and shyly waved at her friend approaching her. "Hello there, Rarity. Are you still working on the book I loaned you?" "Hmm? Oh yes. It is quite informative. In fact, I think I might take your advice and bring the book up in discussion with a... ah... shrink, as you put it. Perhaps I might shed some light on the meanings of my nightmare." As Rarity made a sudden glance back over her shoulder, Twilight tipped her head to the side. "How did you find us here, anyway?" Rarity jerked her head back towards Twilight and swallowed hard. Twilight eyeballed Rarity and noted the stiff posture, occasional hoof shuffling, and twitchy facial muscles of her friend. She may have been a social recluse for much of her life, but as Twilight's relationship with Rarity grew, she had come to recognize the signs that the white unicorn was on edge, and Rarity indeed seemed fidgety again. "I... um... I'm actually on my way to the hardware store from... somewhere when I spotted you two enjoying the outdoors," Rarity managed to squeak out. Twilight raised an eyebrow. "From home? At the Carousel Boutique?" Rarity nodded. "And I've actually come to ask a favor of the two of you. From you, Twilight, I'd actually like to borrow a second book. I'm in need of knowledge of basic home improvement." Twilight blinked, slightly confused at Rarity's sudden interest in a set of skills that was more Applejack's speed than that of a pony who would rather lift a pumice stone than a hammer. "Uh, okay? Sure. I've got a couple books on that subject." Rarity then turned towards Spike, who was busy inhaling, in the figurative sense, a bag full of cookies. "And from Spike, I'd actually greatly appreciate it if he allowed me to use his red wagon one more time." Spike stopped mid-swallow and smiled, an act which promptly caused Rarity to avert her gaze when a cascade of cookie crumbs tumbled from his toothy grin. "Gross, Spike," Twilight chastised. "Where are your manners?" "Sormf..." Spike raised a claw for a pause, swallowed completely, and wiped his mouth. "Sorry." Spike instantly looked at Rarity again with lovesickness in his eyes, and his alter ego that Twilight had come to dub the "Iambic Pendragon" came out. "Oh my sweet Rarity. If I had all the red wagons in Equestria, I would gladly loan their services to you." Twilight rolled her eyes. "Would you like to help me pull the wagon to the hardware store, Spike?" Rarity asked. Spike leapt to his feet and started jumping up and down excitedly at the opportunity to assist Rarity once more. Twilight, however, felt insulted and grew crestfallen, her hopes for a pleasant picnic with her number one assistant suddenly dashed. She leaned up against the tree and drew her legs close to her body, propping her head between her front hooves. The baby dragon stopped his jubilant hopping long enough to turn around and notice how upset Twilight seemed to be. His smile then vanished in a flash, and he turned back to Rarity. "Oh. That's right. I can't, Rarity. I'm here on a picnic with Twilight. Would you like to join us?" Rarity shook her head and gave another glance back over her shoulder. "Much too busy. It's such a shame that you can't assist me. But I do have your permission to borrow your wagon?" Twilight glanced up at Spike and adjusted her bangs. "You go," she muttered, her voice dry and subdued. "I know how much it means to you, and you have to find that book for Rarity. I'll just have this picnic alone and wait for you to come back. Or not." Spike swallowed and stared at Twilight for a few heartbeats. Then he exchanged a look with Rarity. Finally, he said, "Okay, Twilight. If you're really going to be fine with it." Twilight suddenly found herself alone with nothing but her sorrow and her thoughts bouncing around inside the halls of her mind. She withdrew and hung her head again, eyeballing the ruined cookie crumbs that lay scattered about on the woolen picnic blanket. After half a smirk and a wrinkling of her nose, she looked up again and spotted the dwindling views of her two friends. Spike happily bounded around in merry skips and shuffles, looking five months younger. Rarity walked with more deliberate grace and poise. Twilight gave another tilt of the head to the side as she watched her friend's ribbon-like tail sway to and fro in time to the rhythmic wiggling of hips. High above Twilight, one of the oak tree's flowers suddenly expanded to five times its normal size and promptly burst into flames. Her thoughts then turned to the words of a certain writer who lived centuries ago. "I wonder what the Bard would do in a situation like this?" she mused to herself. Her thoughts came to a screeching halt, however, when an echo with a southern drawl ripped throughout what was probably all of Ponyville, assaulting her eardrums. "Big MacIntosh! Where in the name of Ponyville's green hills are yuh?! Yuh're still on the clock!" Twilight shook the stars from her head and lightly dug into her right ear canal, tapping it occasionally in an effort to bring her hearing back. "I don't think I want to know," Twilight breathed. "All the ponies in this town are crazy."