//------------------------------// // Statique // Story: À partir de Bourgeons à Fleurs // by Indulgence //------------------------------// Fleur huffed loudly, having no other course of resistance open to her in her predicament, feeling chained in place in her seat. Despite the regular movements of her world (heavy rhythmic sounds accompanying its occasional uncontrolled bouncing) still it felt stagnant, the stale air of the surrounding space doing nothing to help matters. She fumed silently against her incarceration, her gaze making an attempt at flight through the glass panes of her cell’s walls. On both sides the lightly undulating plains of southern Equestria stretched away from her prison, verdant green tones of its lush fields stained a dull grey by the ominous clouds of an overcast day above, promising nought more interesting than continued settled weather. Even the blur of motion in the surrounding picture was stunted, killing any sense of progress being achieved as each moment of limbo stretched into dead hours. Buck this sideways with a broom handle! The unicorn took an exasperated deep breath in an effort to quell her directionless rage, her magic moving to open the carriage’s slim excuse for a window at her side in an attempt to circulate fresher air to her lungs. Bored and fed up were both severe understatements as descriptors for her mood, she was far beyond the slight circumference of either adjective, her loathing of her situation bristling further than both of them. Fleur quite simply hated travelling, not for being in any way sedentary (far from it), but rather because no matter what any journey felt like a waste, made up of the interminable drudgery of lost time. There was only so much which could be used to occupy the recess of train travel and whatever was found would always be a second rate substitute for real activity. It was a set of leaden fetters, it was a nothingness, an incalculable void constantly getting in the way of life. It was Tartarus. *Bing bing bong* ‘Next stop Ponyville Central. Thank you for travelling with us today.’ Bucking finally! --- *Ding* A quaint metallic chime rang twice in quick succession, bidding Fleur a swift welcome. The sound was perfectly at home in the quiet rural town’s environs of the shop’s setting and yet also totally at odds with the palatial grandeur of the place itself, rising skyward as a mock carnivalesque spire above its surroundings. Crossing the threshold was like entering into an entirely different world, forsaking behind the land outside made crushingly sombre under the sky’s darkened covers, in favour of an inner rainbow of richly patterned fabric, accompanied by an equally striking perfumed scent. ‘Good morning and welcome to Carousel Boutique, how can I help you to…Fleur darling!’ a violet-maned unicorn exclaimed, breaking the flow of her business-like address, as she emerged from a back room. ‘Hey Rare’ Fleur returned with a smile, enjoying the degree of surprise cutting through the designer’s always constructed features, ‘it’s been a while.’ The two snowy unicorns came together in a warm hug. Although perhaps not the closest of friends, the pair had known each other for quite some time, making their meeting a reunion of sorts. Rarity was one of the select few whose Canterlottian mannerisms did not always get on her nerves (mostly). This was purely for the single fact that she knew their source, along with the rest of the predilections which the fashionista had for other elements of the imperial capital’s society, were nothing deeper than stylistic tastes. ‘Too long darling, simply too long. But you’re early too, most unlike you; I must look in such a frightful state.’ Please, for the love of Luna can we get beyond the ‘darling’ nonsense! ‘Don’t give me that crap; you know as well as I that you’re entirely incapable of anything less than gorgeous’ the taller unicorn complemented, making the other blush slightly through both direct bluntness and meaning. ‘You’re much too kind darling’ Rarity countered, shaking her head. ‘I’m a mess, simply a mess. I’ve been trying to fix the chaos wrought by Sweetie in my storeroom all morning and thus far have barely dented the surface’ she sighed. ‘Still I can’t hold anything against her for trying, after all she means well and her efforts are beginning to show some progress. Anyway enough about me dear, let’s talk about you; you’re a veritable diamond, truly beautiful.’ ‘Thanks.’ ‘And I hear on the grapevine you and little Coco…’ Little Coco! ‘…have continued to make quite the waves in Manehattan after your initial splash, with interest from the Princess of the Night herself no less. I must say that I’m more than a tad bit impressed, not to mention a tiny bit jealous too. You’ve got no idea how long I’ve been offering Princess Luna my services to no avail.’ ‘Thanks’ Fleur repeated, suppressing a spike of aggravation sparked by a specific term of phrase. Yes Coco was relatively short, yes she was quiet, but for anypony to slip into patronisation for these features (which to her only endeared her marefriend further as the infinitely cute and at the same time amazing creature that she was) could be intolerable. ‘So anyway, what brings you to my humble shop today?’ ‘A dress for a wedding’ the pink-maned unicorn answered simply, suppressing any further inner interjection. ‘Ooh excellent, whose are you going to?’ In the briefest moment before the coming response Rarity levitated her measuring tape to her side in preparation. ‘Mine’ Fleur answered bluntly, again enjoying her audience’s abrupt reaction, ‘and I should add that the dress isn’t for me, it’s for Coco.’ ‘Oh my, so you two are…?’ ‘Yep.’ ‘You’re serious?’ ‘Yes.’ The repeated affirmation was however this time far less confident, knocked slightly under the scrutiny combined with its disbelieving eyebrow. ‘Erm… congrats’ Rarity smiled, but with a brow still raised, ‘I wouldn’t have called that in a million years.’ ‘What do you mean by that?’ ‘Well no offense meant, but you’ve never struck me as the marrying type, I mean I never saw you as settling down or stopping to play homemaker.’ Is that what I’m doing, or I’ve already been doing? ‘If you’ll forgive my frankness; you’ve always done your utmost not to get tied down to anything, not to mention your more than well-known wild side, both of which seem like the antithesis to your choice and your chosen. So yeah, you’ll have to forgive my general surprise.’ No, that’s not what this is, is it? ‘But anyway, I assume you’ve got her measurements and some ideas?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Well then, shall we?’ The pair of alabaster unicorns walked together the few steps further into the shop’s confines. For one of them however the actual task at hoof was now beginning to have to vie for space against something akin to doubt in her mind. She had been so sure of what she wanted, still was, but… What if you’re not? What would change, what had changed, was she ready to make her choice and was she ready full stop? All these were foalish questions, until then unknown, their newly nagging voices silent, she even knew they were. Still, now they had started whispering they refused to be shut up, regardless of the guilt accompanying them.