//------------------------------//
// Frozen Roses 
// Story: Once Upon a December 
// by FlimFlamBros. 
//------------------------------//

It was the dead of winter, the day she was waiting for all year. It wasn’t because it was a happy time; rather it was the exact opposite. It was the anniversary of the disaster that had struck Canterlot, and it was time for her to go.

Rarity slowly removed herself from her giant bed, her eyes trying to adjust to the faint light of the clouded sun that peeked through her window, emitting a soft white light. She walked to her make-up table and looked into the giant, cracked mirror. Much like the mirror, the rest of the room was a mess and poorly kept. Clothes laid across the floor, discarded and unwashed. One of the windows had a rock thrown through it from a few months ago, and had been boarded up ever since. She never did get around to fixing it. In fact, she never got around to anything anymore.

After forcing the drawers open, she opened up a small makeup kit. It had been so long since she bothered to put her face on, so to speak.  She hadn’t left her home since last February and had stopped applying make-up long before then. She just didn’t feel pretty anymore. A year ago, she would have been the talk of the town, her beauty unmatched by any. Now? Well, let’s say that there were cracks in the mirror.

She slowly applied the mascara, then her eyelashes, a little blush for good measure. She ran her comb through her incredibly tangled mane exactly one hundred times; it too hadn’t seen care for the better part of the year. When she was finished, she looked into the large portion of the mirror that was still intact. She smiled as she gazed into her reflection. Despite popular belief, her looks were not completely cosmetic, there was a good sense of natural beauty there.  She just liked to touch it up, or at least she used to.

Rarity opened up her bedroom to door, slowly descended the stairs to what used to be her boutique. The large room had slowly fallen apart over the course of that year. All of her mannequins had gathered dust, some adorned with half-finished dresses that would never be perfected. She had tried to make dresses, but like everything else in her life, that part of her died one day in December.

Grabbing an old brown cloak and boots and kicking over a large pile of unopened bills, she picked up a small bag of bits--the last of her money--and opened up the door to the winter weather.

The cold breeze of the outside air took her by surprise, sending shivers down her spine. She looked around town. It was mostly deserted, aside from a few fillies playing in the snow. They seemed so happy, an emotion that she dearly missed.

She walked into town, having a few errands to run, the first being a trip to the local florist. She walked up to The Three Flowers, pushing out of the cold and into the warm shop.

A red maned earth pony was attending to some daffodils when she heard the door open up. “Hello, and welcome to The Three Flowers, I’m Rose!” the pony said, turning to see who it was.  She almost gasped when Rarity pulled off her hood. “Oh my goddess! Rarity, I haven’t seen you in almost a year! When the Boutique closed down, I thought you had moved away.”

“It’s all right, dear,” the unicorn said, giving a weak smile. “I know I’ve been less than social, but you must understand, I haven’t been in the best state of mind.”

“I heard,” Rose said sadly, bowing her head down. “I know it means nothing to you, and you’re probably sick of hearing it, but I am sorry.”

“It’s all right, darling,” the white mare said, putting a hoof on her shoulder. “It’s just nice to see that ponies still care.”

“If there is anything that I can do for you, just ask,” the mare said.

“Then I suppose I could trouble you for a rose?” Rarity asked.

“Of course!” the red-headed pony said, quickly trotting over to the display of roses, picking up a dozen of them and wrapping them up in a bouquet. “Is this enough? Or would you like more?”

“Actually darling,” Rarity said, walking over to the earth pony, “I just require one.”

“Oh, okay then!” Rose said, removing a single rose from the rest, and passing it to Rarity.

“So how much do I owe you?”

Rose shook her head. “It’s just one rose Rarity, take it. It’s the least I can do.”

“Are you sure dear?” asked the unicorn. “It wouldn’t feel right making you provide me charity.”

“Please,” the caring mare said, giving her a heart-warming smile. “I insist.”

Rarity nodded as she carefully placed the rose safely in her cloak. “Thank you,” she whispered, turning to the door and heading back out to the snow covered streets.

“Come back soon!” Rose yelled through the closing door. 

Rarity gave a deep sigh as she trekked through the sheet of white powder to her next destination: the train station. Making her way to the ticket booth, she passed by three little fillies making a snowmare. They were laughing as one of them accidentally pushed of the head, and it fell to the ground in a mush of broken pieces.

The stallion at the booth was a big brown fellow, with a thick grey moustache and a conductor hat. He seemed to be drifting in and out of asleep.

“Excuse me sir,” she asked.  The stallion didn’t respond. “Excuse me?” Still no response. “Hello? Are you even awake?”

She gave the booth a few harsh taps before he finally stirred awake. “Huh-what? Oh, sorry!” he apologized, his voice still very groggy. “I must have dozed off there for a spell.  What can I get you this fine winter’s morning?”

“I was hoping to get a ticket to Canterlot.  The train hasn’t left yet, has it?”

“No, of course not, but why would a pretty little thing like you want to go to Canterlot?” the stallion asked. “It’s not like it was a year ago.”

Rarity couldn’t help but blush. It had been so long since she had been complemented by a stallion, and a little bit of the old Rarity peeked up a bit. “I am certainly aware of the situation there, dear. But I have something very important to attend to there.”

The stallion sighed. “Very well, here’s a ticket. That’ll be twenty bits.” The mare handed him the bag of bits and he counted out the right amount. He tore of a ticket from the roll and handed it to the white mare, along with the rest of her coin purse, which had gotten quite light. “Enjoy your trip, Miss.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” Rarity said as she walked past the ticket booth and to the train terminal. 

The landings were actually quite packed, mostly ponies waiting for family members and relatives. It was Hearth’s Warming Eve after all, a day that brought ponies closer together, a day that was to celebrate the three pony tribes uniting in this land. It was a day that only brought dread to the poor white mare.

Her train to Canterlot was almost completely empty; few ponies would actually go to the capital nowadays. She found herself a nice, quiet booth to sit at as she looked out the window. The snow was starting to fall down over the dying trees of the surrounding forests. It was almost hauntingly beautiful, like the mare she had become.

“Mind if I sit here?”

Rarity looked away from the window to see a rather handsome earth pony. His short dirty blonde mane complemented his dark brown coat nicely, and really made his dark blue eyes stick out.

She nodded as the pony took a seat across from her as she continued to look out the window.

“So what takes you to Canterlot?” he asked. “Business or pleasure?”

“Neither,” she said, not breaking contact with the mirror.

“So you just decided to go to Equestria’s new hell hole?” he chuckled. “Just for laughs?”

“Why do you care?” she asked.

“Just trying to make friendly banter, it’s a long trip to Canterlot.”

“Well, I’m sorry, Mister….”

“Plot Twist,” the brown stallion smiled. “Just Plot Twist, no need for that Mister nonsense.”

“Well,” said Rarity gravely, “Plot Twist, I fear you will find that I will make for rather bad company.”

“That seems unlikely,” he said, stretching out on the booth chair. “If I have learned anything in life, it’s that the quiet ones have the best stories to tell.” He leaned in to the white mare, who couldn’t help but turn her head towards his. “So what is your story?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” she said, turning back to the window. “It’s too painful to remember.”

“Fair enough,” Plot Twist admitted, “but since you insist on being silent, would you do a stallion a favour and at least listen to mine?”

“I suppose,” she sighed. “It’s not too appalling is it?  I rather like to avoid those stories as of late.”

“Appalling no, though it is a bit sad,” he said, raising one of his eyebrows. “Would that be okay with you?”

“Not really,” she mumbled. “But I guess you will tell me it regardless?”

“That’s a smart lass,” he smiled. “Now when I was younger, which is funny considering that I’m not even in my twenties, I was working at a small theatre company in Canterlot.  This, of course, being years before the incident. I was just a simple stage hand, working backstage as the actors performed a lovely little play. Have you ever seen a play called ‘Once Upon a December’?”

“Actually, yes.  I have, though it was so long ago,” Rarity said, now looking at the stallion, rather than out the window, “I don’t remember most of the details.”

“A terrific play, by any standards!” he exclaimed excitedly. “And one of the greatest love stories of our times. The main character, a mare by the name of Solar Rise has the love of her life, Night Sky, taken away from him by the demon alicorn Dark Conquest, dastardly fellow if I do say so myself.”

“How so?”

“Well, he had this way of making you like him, regardless to what he did, and he does lots of terrible things.”

“Like what?”

“Won’t spoil it for you, but let’s say that he isn’t a nice pony,” he chuckled, looking at the shocked face of the mare before him. “Sorry, I don’t know why I find that funny.”

“It’s all right, it is just a play after all,” Rarity smiled, relieving some of the tension.

“Of course, but I keep getting distracted,” the play pony said, trying to get his story back on track. “Anyways, in the play, Conquest captures Night Sky, and forces Solar Rise to go through these challenges to get a chance to save the one she loves.”

“Why would he do that? Conquest seems like an evil pony. Why give her the chance?”

“He doesn’t believe in love,” replied Plot Twist. “And he wishes to prove his point to everypony in the world.”

“That’s awful!” Rarity exclaimed. “Does she save him?”

“Who, Solar Rise?” he asked.  The mare nodding her head. “Well, why would I tell you the ending?” he smiled. “Anyways, I keep getting off course; this is my story, not his. So I was just doing some organizing behind stage when all of a sudden, the actor playing Dark Conquest, I believe his name was Curator, had received an urgent letter regarding a love one.”

“What was it?”

“Didn’t know at the time, but the point was he left halfway through the performance, and I was his understudy.”

Rarity’s eyebrows arched up, “I guess this was good news for you then?”

“Well, I would be a liar if I said I wasn’t thrilled for a chance in the spot light, and to play a character as great as Conquest.  It was a dream come true, though I’d wished it were under different circumstances.”

“I would hope,” she sighed. “But regardless, how did you perform?”

“Magnificently! If I do say so myself,” Plot Twist smiled, standing up and adjusting his voice. “‘There is no point in love, for a point is meaningless, and therefore love has no meaning.’  Scene six, page sixty-three!”

“Bravo,” grinned Rarity, giving the pony a little clap as Plot Twist took an exaggerated bow.

“Thank you, thank you!” he joked. “You’re too kind, really.” He took his seat, sinking into the cushions. “Really though, I was okay. I was the understudy, after all. But again, sidetracked. So during the play, I notice the most beautiful mare in the audience, a very precious thing, like you.”

“I see.  And did she notice you?”

“Not likely,” mumbled Plot. “After the bows, I tried to find her, but she had vanished, disappeared like she wasn’t there at all.”

“Well, I’m sure you will find her,” the white mare said reassuringly.

“I’m sure I will,” the play pony sighed, looking out the window. “Well, would you look at that.”

Rarity looked out the window.  They had arrived at Canterlot.  It looked exactly the same as it did last December.

“Well, that was fast,” she thought out loud, “I guess we talked longer than I-” she turned to see that her companion had disappeared, gone without a making a single sound. “-thought.”

Lying in his place, was a piece of paper, it was a ticket, for a play called ‘Once upon a December’, the play they had spent the trip talking about.

She took the ticket, stuffed it in the pocket of her jacket, and left the train. She stepped into the cold air of Canterlot, the bitter snow gently falling down from the sky.

Wrapping her jacket tightly around her body, she pressed on down the snowy streets of the once great city. Homes that use to be fancy and prim were now boarded up like dilapidated shacks. The few ponies that walked the streets were sorrowful, hardened, and bitter souls, a great contrast to the regal ponies that once lived there. Rarity did her best not to make eye contact as she walked down the icy road.

Finally, she reached her destination.  The grand and magnificent Canterlot castle, home to their royal highnesses Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, and a wonderful source of pony culture and architecture.

Or, at least, what was left of it.

Edits by Bunsen and LDSocrates