//------------------------------// // Healing Hooves // Story: I can listen // by walkonfour //------------------------------// For Rarity, things had not always seem so clear. The unicorn had always been attracted to the extraordinary, something always apparent in what she held on to in life. Her appearance, character and tastes reflected a pony of dignity and ambition. The image she presented to the world was the result of careful deliberation, however. Internally she often found herself in turmoil. Like the dresses she crafted, her fabulous image was just to show, something to be taken off, like one of her dresses, at the end of the long day. Waking up, she pondered the meaning of what she did each day. Certainly she loved her job; the challenge of interpreting what ponies wanted, and the joy of creating it in fabric and gems, was what she lived for, but somehow, it didn’t seem to fulfil her like it used to. Was it her friends then? She wondered as she began her morning routine. She instantly dismissed the idea; she couldn’t ask for more in that department. Leaving her room, she put aside such troubling thoughts and set about making herself a simple breakfast. Her sister Sweetie Belle was of for the weekend with her two troublesome friends, making her morning a much more relaxing experience; usually it would be disturbed by her rather more energetic sister. Truly, she envied Sweetie Belle for her adventurous spirit, the way she seemed to know something of living Rarity herself had long forgotten…. Moving on, Rarity approached a large mirror in the corner of her home. Was she not prettiest mare in Ponyville? Didn’t her generous spirit and impeccable taste endear her to Equestria’s elite, and her friends the best anypony could wish for? Glancing away from her immaculate reflection, her eye caught on her latest project, on display in the window of her shop; it was (in a departure from her usual work) the formal attire of a stallion. She had crafted it in an attempt to broaden interest in her business, and showcase her ability in Gentlecolts tailoring. It stood, in her opinion, as testament to her versatility; a tailed suit as would not look out of place in the wardrobe of any aristocrat. Still, she was beginning to regret making it. Every time she looked at the garment, arranged as it was on one of her Mannequins, she thought back to that night in Canterlot…… She approached the window, intending to remove the display. She spied something unusual outside “Big Macintosh? Maybe I have broadened my appeal to colts” she said to herself, contemplating leaving the Suit up. But no; his attention was drawn by some of her more feminine items; in fact he hadn’t seen her or the suit at all. I didn’t have him pegged as that kind of pony, she mused. He had never been the most expressive of ponies mind, and what Applejack had ever had to say about her brother was usually fairly limited, though he was clearly very strong. Strong and silent she thought. “It’s ok to look” On impulse Rarity had walked outside and spoken with big Stallion. What came next was like a flash. Before she could think the situation through properly, they were both sat together in her small boutique talking over tea. She found herself thinking there had to be more to Big Macintosh than met the eye. She found herself looking at the stallion in a different light; there was something about those big, sad, green eyes… Suddenly, Big Macintosh grunted in pain. Without thinking, she had reached out and placed a hoof on her shoulder. Offering and apology, she listened placidly as he muttered something about the farm “Well don’t you worry my big brave workhorse; I have just the thing for sore muscles. You just lie there and let Rarity make you all better” Rarity, in truth, was shocked by her own forwardness. She pushed back any inappropriate thoughts in light of the stallion’s perplexed look. Thinking quickly, she acted to defuse the situation. “Now Macintosh dearest, look here; one of my closest friends’ brother comes to me with an injury, what do you expect a good pony to do in this situation? Now take off that silly collar and lie down” Slowly, he obeyed “suppose I’m used to being bossed around by Mares”, he said, chuckling at himself. “Now hold still” “Say, what doing up there, miss?” “You just relax, and please, call me Rarity” "Thanks, I’m glad we-“ He was cut off as Rarity’s’ hooves, expertly placed on the Stallions back, began to ease out the strain that had been building up in his shoulders. He let out a low involuntary groan as he began to comprehend what was happening. As instructed, he lay still, and began to enjoy himself. To say Big Mackintosh was outside of what she would deem her usual clientele was one of the greater understatements she could imagine, yet here she was, offering a service not usually offered in the Carousel boutique. As his solid muscles shifted beneath her circling hooves, she wondered what it was about this taciturn farmer that had made her act so impulsively… “All done!” “Thanks miss- I mean Rarity. I feel good as new” “I told you I knew what I was doing. I’m not just a dressmaker, silly.” As he flexed his shoulder, he realised that the pain was gone, and something more; so was the awkwardness he had felt earlier. Surely there was nothing more natural in the world than getting to know a fine young mare like Rarity. Overcoming his natural reticence he resolved to get to know this Rarity a little better. “It sure is nice in here. Did you make all these yourself?” he said, indicating the dresses in the window. “Why yes. Do you like them?” rarity replied. “I guess I do- just not for me I mean” “Of course” she added, laughing, then serious; “for that certain special filly-friend perhaps?” “No not for that either. I’ve just always had an appreciation for fine things, that’s all” It was pleasant to be so open about it for a change, Big Macintosh reckoned. He had never really felt he could share this different side of him. Rarity for her part was enjoying herself as well. She was beginning to appreciate that there was so much the two of them could share with one another. Suddenly, the doorbell rang again, announcing another arrival in the boutique. A small unicorn filly bounded energetically through the door colliding with Big Macintosh. Seeming to pay this no heed, she righted herself before gazing intently at the scene before her. “Rarity, whatya doin’ with Applebloom’s brother?” she inquired, looking inquisitively at her sister “Sweetie belle, I don’t think that concerns you” “NO fair. You grownups are always keeping secrets” “Sweetie belle, go to your room!” “No. Not until you tell me what’s goin’ on!” As this very sisterly argument got underway, Big Macintosh just stood, keeping quiet. He would rather his youngest sister and her friends didn’t know about his more sensitive side; besides if Applejack was to find out about his little conversation with rarity, he would never hear the end of it. Quietly, he slipped away leaving the Two sisters to their fight.