Pony POV Series
Fleur de Lis
Eyes On Me
Recursive Fanfiction
Well hello. See something you like?
Oh don’t you worry, darlings. If a day goes by without somepony asking for an interview, often complete with signed autographs, it means I’m not doing my job right. Look all you want, but you can’t touch.
Sorry, just a joke.
Me? Are you serious? Ha. I never would have thought it. A pony who hasn’t heard of me...It’s almost refreshing in a way.
It means I don’t have to pretend so much...
Hm? Nothing, sorry.
I’m Fleur de Lis, front-page stunner of the Canterlot Fashion Magazine and many others like it. If you don’t read them you must have at least passed by them at some point.
I’m a pony of expensive tastes, but then all the best ponies are.
Oh, the poses? Sorry, habit of mine. I do it all the time. Don’t often realise. It can lead to a few embarrassing situations.
But it’s useful in my line of work.
Oh, it has its ups and downs. I won’t give you the exact details. Photo Finish gets rather huffy if I give anything away but, let’s just say it serves its purpose and is worth the trials.
I have fame, a steady income, and a high place in the social circles.
Which means I get to spend time with him.
Yes, don’t look so surprised, dears, we’re married. And yes, the marriage is a very happy one. We never really argue. The only thing that comes close is steady debates on this and that. Trivial things but it helps us understand each other. The worst marriages are ones where nopony talks at all. You get those all too often in the media nowadays.
But Fancy’s different.
Very different.
I knew him before I became...all this. I mean, I was still...mostly...the mare you see now but nopony was paying that much attention.
Well, they were but not in a good way.
I’ve always been like this. And that’s both a blessing and a curse.
When you’re too tall and too thin, even as a foal, ponies tend not to ignore it. And that which isn't normal often isn't pretty in their eyes.
Foals can be cruel sometimes.
As I...moved on from that, things got a bit different.
My absurd height and shape became beautiful in their eyes. But it did nothing to make them treat me any more like a pony.
I remember once, on the streets of Manehattan, a beggar, weak and coughing, stopped me on the way to the flat I was staying at and asked if I was the Princess or close to the Princess.
“You must be” he said “You look just like her. You must know her. You must ask her to help me”
He looked so desperate. I gave him a little something I’d...acquired the other day...just to help a little.
Let’s get this straight, the Princess is a lovely mare but we’re not related. Ponies asking for favours are always the worst.
They make me feel so powerless. I’m disappointing all of them.
I thought high culture would end my days of being a recluse. It only made things worse, as it turns out.
That’s why I pursued...other activities. Ones I’m not best proud of and, if it’s alright, I’d rather not go into.
My point is ponies only like something when they feel the need to.
But Fancy Pants made them feel that need. Sheep, the lot of them. And I have to rely on the opinions of those sheep to get where I am. It’s humiliating! But like I said, Fancy Pants is different.
He has such control over the city but he always uses it for good. He helps so many ponies and all he needs to do is say ‘This stallion’s a hard-working fellow’ or ‘This mare has talent, if I can see it I’m sure the rest of you can’ and quick as you like, they have a chance in life.
We got to know each other so quickly, long before we both got where we are now. We were both up-and-coming socialites with no small amount of enemies. Well, he had enemies, I had stalkers. Quite a few. It’s ridiculous! I mean, ponies who trail a celebrity everypony knows, I can...sort of...understand. It’s still not best practice but I can understand it. But I was just a mare who looked different from all the others. It was like I some sort of zoo exhibit! All my life, I’ve looked different and all my life ponies haven’t been able to deal with it!
...I’m sorry...
Fancy put an end to that. Ha-ha. You should have seen it.
And later he recommended me to Photo Finish. A demanding employer at the best of times but she gave me the opportunity to get myself out there. But that just meant Fancy had done one more thing I couldn’t seem to do. I didn’t want to be a burden. I didn’t want to live off him. Our relationship wouldn’t feel right unless both of us made equal amounts of effort.
So in the end I ended up foiling an attempt on his life. It was a spur of the moment thing really but Fancy Pants was safe and those who had hired the assassin were apprehended and removed from power. And that was how we came to realise...we need each other. We look out for each other. And I’ve never been happier looking out for him.
Which makes it so very infuriating when I hear what ponies call me behind my back and sometimes to my face. Gold-Digger. Trophy Wife. Bimbo. Temptress. Harlot. Pay-Ride. What do they know?!
Sorry...Sorry.
Look, let’s just pretend I never said that. It...It’s complicated.
‘I can’t help being beautiful’
Fancy’s words not mine. Yes, I know it sounds a little like he’s stroking my ego, but in truth, my greatest concern isn’t what ponies think of me, it’s what ponies think of me and him. As in, together. Fancy does look a lot older than me. You’d be surprised how close we are age-wise. And I suppose there are some who believe there are no self-made mares but that’s exactly what I am and not everypony’s happy about it. I’m just worried that, at some point, Fancy’s going to start believing what everypony else believes. That I’m just using him. That I’m living off him. That I’m lying to him.
But then I remind myself that he just isn’t like that. He’s different.
And I love him for it...so much.
So things are good, overall. I’m looking to show up the Suddery circle in the next modelling shoot. Shouldn’t be too difficult. At the moment, I feel the need for a bit of fresh air and friendly company. And if that company is Fancy Pants, so much the better.
He doesn’t mind taking me to places. Even in the courts. I really can be quite useful. I’m smarter than I look, how do you think I’ve lasted this long in the city?
Oh, sorry. Mirror. Need to check. Force of habit. Can’t appear before the crowds looking like a horror flic, can I?
Huh...There’s another. Well, everything seems fine.
Wait, am I posing?
Good grief, where did that mirror come from?
Okay, something is not right here. These mirrors were not here when I turned my eyes and I’m not posing in the way my reflections are? What the hay is going on?!
“Got something between your teeth, darling?” That voice...it sounds like mine.
It is mine. Dear Celestia, my own reflection is talking to me! And it’s looking at me...and not in a good way.
“Not happy with the way you look?” The way it glances at me reminds me of so many ponies I wasn’t fond of “Well, we can change your shape and size in so many different ways.”
The mirror expands and so does my reflection, puffing up like a balloon in all directions until I’m looking at myself only morbidly obese. Bulging out in every direction. I feel quite nauseous. I edge back and hit the mirror behind me. Turning round, my reflection looks normal again.
But it’s still giving me that look.
“No good, eh? How about this?”
I fall back screaming as the mirror compresses, causing my reflection to become so painfully thin, I’m almost skeletal, sunken cheeks and eyes, a withered husk of a mare.
“Stop it!” I yell, scrambling on the glassy ground. “Who’s doing this?! Where are you?!”
“Boo!”
I look down at my hooves. I see myself staring up at me.
My face! What’s happened to my face?!
A hideous creature mimicking me grins through serrated fangs! Bulging red eyes staring at me hungrily! The bones of my ribs burst through my chest and flail around like a pair of jaws, chomping through my gore-leaking insides! It’s staring right at me! It’s going to pounce!
It’s going to turn me into one of them!
Leave me alone!
I can’t take this! I have to stop it! Rearing up on my hind legs, I cast a bolt of magic at one of the mirrors.
Not the smartest idea, it bounces off...and off...and off...deflecting off the glass, panel after panel until it hits me in the flank and sends me crashing through one of them.
It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. My flank’s taken the worst of it. I haven’t cut myself at least.
I seem to have landed on a bed of lilies. Gold and purple lilies with three petals. Just like my Cutie Mark.
There’s someone lying down in them, reclining sultrily like a male model, a lily between his teeth, one brow raised coyly.
I don’t think I’ve seen an odder-looking creature in my life. Part of him’s snake, part of him’s bird, most of him is pony...I think...
Oh my Celestia it’s him!
The statue from the garden party’s Fancy always takes me to.
He’s back!
Discord is...
“Back...Baby!” He finishes my sentence as he picks up a shard of glass and admires his own reflection.
“Seven years back luck...” he tuts “Of course, with me around, quite a bit more so.” And he pops the shard of glass in his mouth and crunches it like a potato chip.
I struggle to get to my hooves. He doesn’t seem to have that problem as the lilies rise up and throw him into the air where he stays hovering.
“Fleur de Lis...” he chuckles “I’m surprised you didn’t like the gift I gave you. I thought you enjoyed looking good.”
“I...look good for others...” I reply.
“Oh...how very generous of you...Oh but we’ve already had generosity. Ugh! It’s so hard coming up with something ironic for everypony. You don’t know the work that goes into chaos, dear girl. Now...what to do with you?”
I take a step back.
Why me? Why have I stumbled into his path? What have I done?!
“Always so narcissistic!” he snorts “I’m paying visits to everypony in Equestria. You, however...well...it’s so hard not to notice you...”
Discord cranes his neck over me at an absurd angle.
“So you like to look good for others? Is that it? I suppose that must be pretty easy when you look good for anything.”
“Um...thank you...”
“Oh yes, indeed. But you know, I imagine it would be altogether a lot harder if you didn’t look good. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder after all” He removes his own eye, spins it on his claw and eats it. It swiftly reappears, boggling around its socket “Some even call me ugly...heheh...they regretted that, I can tell you. Hmm...So, Miss de Lis, which look did you find best suited you in our little catalogue back there? Beach-Ball? Bean-Pole? Bane of Living Things?”
“Stop it! Just stop it!” I’ve had enough of this “Whatever you do to me, it won’t matter. It’ll be your magic! And that’s it! I’ll still be me!” Keep calm, Fleur, keep calm. I’ll still be me. I’ll still be beautiful. I’ll still have Fancy Pants. No matter what I looked like, he’d never leave me!
“Oh, is that what you believe? Is it?” he shakes his head “Silly, silly Fleur de Lis. You should never give me ideas. Because I wonder, why play around with just your body when your mind is far more fun!”
The mirrors close around me. Lilies swarm the soil beneath my hooves.
I’m trapped. Celestia help me, I’m trapped with a mad god!
I hate the way he’s looking at me.
Please don’t look at me!
“So you wish ponies would look at you? Admire you? Desire you?” He cackles, his eyes staring into mine “Well, my pretty little filly...be careful what you wish for!”
His eyes loom in front of me. Instinctively I turn away but the mirror...I see his eyes in the mirror. They’re everywhere!
I hear him chanting.
“The lily withers every day...
And mortal splendour fades away...
But when your beauty never dies...
You’re never safe from prying eyes...”
I still see his eyes.
Wait...those aren’t his eyes. They look like...normal eyes. Pony eyes. But...why are there so many?
The eyes are all around me. I can’t turn round or turn away. They’re everywhere I go. Everywhere I look.
This...this isn’t what I wanted at all!
“Isn’t it? You want eyes on you and that’s what I gave you. Every moment, everywhere, they’ll be watching the mare of their dreams.”
“No! No, please!”
“And why let the eyes have all the fun? Looking’s boring. Perhaps they’d like to touch! C’mon, boys! Get your money’s worth!”
The lilies rumble under me and something erupts from their centres.
Hooves. Thousands and thousands of hooves reaching out and grabbing at me.
I scream as several work their way up my back-legs! I kick them away but they just keep coming!
Don’t touch me!
Don’t look at me!
Please don’t look at me!
I run. That’s all I can do. I have to get away. The eyes! The hooves! They won’t stop coming! They won’t leave me alone!
Every few times I think I’ve escaped, more appear in front of me, hooves grabbing at mine, pulling me along the dirt. I end up running through a hedgerow to get away and it doesn’t even help! They just keep coming. As the twigs and leaves get stuck in my mane, they morph into tiny hooves, tugging at it.
Get off!
You’re hurting me!
Please stop!
They let me go abruptly. My face falls into a puddle.
There, now I’m not so pretty! My face is covered with mud and what I really hope is chocolate milk. Can you stop now?!
Please don’t look at me!
The moment I see somepony, the moment they look at me, that’s all I see. Their eyes. All their great horrible eyes blotting the rest of them from view. Can nopony help me?!
Can you just! Stop! LOOKING AT ME?!
Wait...There! I see him...
Fancy Pants. He doesn’t look himself either. He has a sword at his belt and his mane and moustache is ruffled but it’s him.
I know my Fancy. He’ll help me. We always help each other.
He’s off-colour. I see it in his mane and moustache. He looks so unwell.
Dear Celestia, has Discord gotten to him too?
No, Fancy’s not like that. Fancy’s different.
He’d never be taken in by that disgusting serpent.
“Fancy! Oh my Fancy, thank Celestia!”
I can barely stand. I feel like vomiting and I look terrible but at least it’s over now.
Fancy will keep me safe, he always does. Then I’ll find out what Discord did to him and help him through that.
We need each other.
“Fancy, you need to help me!” I can barely get my words out but I explain what’s happening, I hold him close.
He feels so...cold. He feels so cold but I hold him close. He doesn’t seem to move.
“How many?”
He asks me a question I don’t quite understand.
“Well?”
Is he asking how many eyes are on me? How many hooves are touching me? How many hours I’ve spent running from it?
Too many, that’s how many!
I’m about to answer when he speaks again. Even his voice sounds wrong and the words that come out of his mouth shake me to the core.
“How many stallions was it this time, then? Anypony you knew? A father? A brother? A colt you found outside the bordello? Perhaps a little of all three? Perhaps all at the same time?!”
How...how could he say that?!
Is this some sort of sick joke?
Is it Discord again? It has to be! I know my Fancy! He’d never say that!
“Don’t you dare pretend to be surprised, you loathsome, grasping excuse for a mare!” He’s snarling at me like a wolf, drawing a blade at his belt “I know the truth. You’ve been a pay-ride for coin all this time. Celestia’s coin! You’ve been spying on me! You have spied on your one true king! Treason! Heresy! Fleur-de-Lis, I name you a traitor to the crown!”
He’s pointing the sword right at me!
He’s going to hurt me!
No... No, no, nononono, not you too, not you...not my Fancy!
I scream as loud as I can!
This isn’t him! This isn’t my Fancy! Fancy’s Different!
“Silence!” he bellows as he stares me dead in the eyes. I just notice his are almost drained of colour. Dead eyes. Mad eyes.
Oh Celestia...Discord found him first!
“What was that you always had me say? You can’t help being beautiful?” His voice sounds mocking, so full of hatred.
Fancy doesn’t hate me...does he?
No. Fancy...I know you won’t hurt me.
“Well I think I can help...” he sneers “I think I can stop them all looking at you...here!”
The sword thrusts forward with a flash. I give a scream as it cuts across my cheek. I fall to one knee.
He’s cut me.
He hurt me!
No, this is a nightmare! This can’t be real! He can’t be real! This isn’t him! He’s different!
“FANCY, NO!”
Can any part of him hear me? Remember me?
I’m his Fleur! Doesn’t he know me?!
“Be silent, traitor, and accept your fate! Have at thee!”
I find my hooves and scramble away, my tears flowing down my cheeks as the cut bleeds freely.
It hurts! It hurts so much!
Not you, Fancy! Please, not you!
The eyes are back! They watch me bleed! They watch with hungry eyes. The hooves emerge and try to grab at it, trying to tear it open wider.
Please don’t look at me!
Why are you still looking?! I'm not pretty anymore! I'm cut and crying! My mane's lost all colour! My coat's greying! I'm too thin and too tall and I don't want anypony to look at me anymore!
I just want it to stop!!!
I don’t see where I’m going and I honestly don’t care. The soil turns thicker and wetter beneath my hooves until I’m almost stuck in the mud. I must have run into the Everfree.
Somewhere, I think I hear a manticore roaring out in anguish.
I honestly don’t care if it finds me.
I hope it rips me apart until there’s nothing left.
Nothing left for them to look at.
Nothing for them to touch.
I dig deeper into the mud. I need to hide somehow! This is the only way I can!
I can’t take it anymore!
I lie down and roll, over and over until I’m almost completely covered. Completely protected. I just leave space for my mouth to breathe out of before my cover my face and shut my eyes tight.
Let the earth swallow me up. I’m ready.
Just let it end.
Please let it end.
Please don’t look at me.
*
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
*
Was that him?
Was that Discord? Has he been stopped? Is the nightmare over?
My body feels heavy. My mane feels like its being tugged on.
Oh Celestia, are the hooves still there?
No, no, thank Paradise, it’s just the mud. It’s just the...
Oh dear sweet Celestia and Luna, I look horrendous!!! I can't show myself in town looking like this! How do I get home unseen! This is going to take me days to wash this off!
I can barely see through all this?! It’s all over my face and mane! I try to brush it out my eye and catch my hoof on a cut on my cheek.
It stings! I need to find a band-aid. I don’t want a scar! I can’t scar my face. Fancy loves my face. He loves my...
“FANCY, NO!”
I stop. Suddenly I’m on my knees as the memory of that sword and the mad look in his eye swarms me more than Discord’s hordes of eyes and hooves. I curl up on the ground, eyes streaming, begging anypony out there for it not to be true...
Not him.
That wasn’t him, that couldn’t have been.
He’s not like that.
He’s...he’s...he's different.
Fancy, no. Not you...Not my Fancy! I can’t lose you! I don’t care what Discord does to me but please...give my Fancy back!
He’s not like that. He’s different. He’s my Fancy!
I need him.