//------------------------------// // The Faces Of The Coin // Story: A Bluebird's Song // by Ardensfax //------------------------------// A Bluebird’s Song ~~~ Sometimes I just Can’t help myself I guess I’m clockwork And you’re quartz ~~~ The Faces Of The Coin The Carousel Boutique workroom was undeniably a mess. A disorderly line of mannequins were stacked up by the window, some on their sides, each one bearing a more disastrous outfit than the last. Jumbled piles of fabrics and ribbons were scattered across the floor, the occasional glint of a gemstone or two shining out amongst them. The creator of this clutter stood at her sewing machine, muttering irritably to herself. Try as she might, inspiration seemed to be giving Rarity a wide berth today, as if she had sprayed herself liberally with a full can of inspiration-repellant. When the third attempt to line up a simple row of stitches failed, she pulled the severely-punctured, half-constructed dress from under the machine’s needle, and tossed it onto the pile of fabric to her left. “It’s simply no good, I can’t concentrate!” Rarity muttered under her breath, looking around at the creative wasteland. She heard the door creak open behind her, and turned with a sigh of resignation to see that Sweetie Belle, who was paying her a visit for a few days whilst still busily crusading, was standing in the doorway. “What’s the matter, Sis?” the diminutive unicorn asked, looking around with interest at the chaotic room. Rarity shook her head. “I don’t know, I’m just distracted at the moment. I can’t concentrate on my work. I’ve got two orders to fill for tomorrow, but it’s just not coming naturally.” Sweetie Belle trotted into the room, eyeing the failed outfits in surprise. “You made those?” “I’m afraid so,” Rarity admitted, embarrassed. She saw a look of worry dawn on her sister’s face. “What’s stopped you concentrating?” Rarity paused. She could make quite a good guess at what was hindering her, but she felt that it was somehow inappropriate to drag her younger sister into these matters. “Oh,” she waved a hoof, airily. “I wouldn’t worry. I’m sure it will pass, and I’ll be back to normal in no time. Even the most creative of spirits can run into dry patches for a time.” Sweetie Belle looked a little taken aback, but seemed to accept her sister’s story. “Okay, then… Look, sis, is it okay if I borrow some of this ribbon? We’re trying to make a new flag for the clubhouse and I promised Scootaloo I’d grab some.” “Of course, of course. Go ahead,” Rarity replied, absently. She watched as the visibly relieved Sweetie Belle gathered up a few clashingly-coloured lengths of ribbon, and departed, closing the door behind her. Trying to clear her head, Rarity turned back to look at the last undisturbed mannequin, casting an appraising eye over the contours and waiting for the ideas to begin to coalesce, as they usually did so easily. She waited there for about half a minute, and when no stroke of inspiration struck her, she turned away with a frustrated snort. Ever since she had visited Spike at the library, his words had been spinning in her head. A few days ago, she had gone to the spa as usual with Fluttershy, and it was then that she realized just how right the little dragon had been. She had enjoyed the company of the pegasus, as always, but felt a continual, crushing disappointment whenever she was in the same room. Every second they’re with you, they’re breaking your heart and they don’t even know it. Spike’s words floated vividly to the front of her mind, and she felt as if she were being torn apart a little inside her chest. She did not want to tell Fluttershy, as she knew that it would achieve nothing. Worse than that, it would hurt Fluttershy. Rarity knew how sensitive her friend was, and did not think it would be fair of her to risk making things so awkward between them. Would their friendship even survive it? Despite this, she could not help wondering if it would not be better to have her feelings out in the open. As Spike had said, it might be less painful to endure the awkwardness than to continue bottling herself up in this way. Doubtless things would be embarrassing for a while, but if she was lucky it may be a temporary setback in their friendship, and they could continue as they had before, but without the leaden dead-weight that fell into Rarity’s chest, whenever she was with Fluttershy. This speculation is getting me nowhere, she chided herself. She might say yes, a rebellious, insidious voice in the back of her mind whispered. Of course she won’t. You know that. Don’t get your hopes up there, all it will do is muddy the waters. On top of her existing indecision was the nagging worry of that Spike had said, that Fluttershy had nearly been killed, because of something she had done. Was Fluttershy perhaps in danger? Rarity knew perfectly well that if something happened to the pegasus, she would regret her present hesitancy for the rest of her life. Her head still buzzing, she fell back to brooding over her circular thoughts. At the spa. The way she was looking at me, it was like she was looking inside me. She seemed worried about me, as if I wasn’t quite myself that day. Oh no, oh no, what if she’s guessed? Rarity closed her eyes, knowing that this problem was not one that would be solved by inaction. In truth, she knew what she had to do, for the sake of her own peace of mind, and for the sake of her trust in Fluttershy as a friend. Fluttershy would surely understand, even if she could not reciprocate Rarity’s feelings. Hopefully, the inevitable awkwardness would subside eventually, even if it took months, surely things would return to normal in the end. If I don’t say something, she’s just going to work it out on her own. Her eyes flashed open, and she came to a decision. “I have to tell her,” she stated to the room in general, grinning triumphantly at the disappointingly unenthusiastic mannequin audience before her. “I’m going to tell her today.” * As she opened the library door, to be met with a faceful of sunlight, Twilight’s brain felt blank with surprise. She had no idea how to process the thought that a direct blood relative of the pony she loved had had such a direct hand in their recent troubles. Almost as worrying was the fact that she had not the slightest plan for breaking the news to Dash, as she would surely have to do. She blinked a few times in the bright light, and Celestia walked slowly out of the library behind her, the weighty golden circlet back in its place around her neck. In all honesty, Twilight did not know what to think about what her mentor had nearly done to Dash. It was all too early, too fresh in her mind to be properly understood. Naturally, a cold claw of fear gripped her chest when she thought about what might have happened, but she did not feel resentful towards the Princess, or frightened by the knowledge of what she had done to Dusk. She felt much the same as she always had towards the Alicorn, balancing a sense of affection as one might for a family member, with the nagging bite of worry that she might slip up, or that the Princess might suddenly realize the disparity in power between them, and find her redundant or unnecessary. In a way, she felt more comfortable around Celestia than she had before, having had her mentor confide a small part of her painful history so trustingly in her. She expected that, with the exception of Luna, she was the only living pony who knew the true significance of the Princess’s circlet, the only one that Celestia felt able to trust without restraint. Twilight supposed that the hope of forming this bond of trust was the reason that Celestia took on protégés in the first place, to offer her some company and contact almost as equals in that must have been a lonely existence. Rounding the corner a short distance from the library came Fluttershy and Dash, returning to check on them. Twilight’s stomach felt as if it suddenly dropped a few feet. I can’t tell Dash about this while Fluttershy’s around! She’ll probably tell Fluttershy on her own, but that’s got to be up to her. This makes things difficult. Twilight flicked internally through options for a moment, then decided to omit that part of the story until she and Dash were alone in the library together. Anything that she could do to lighten the blow was helpful to her at this stage. After all, she had helped Dash through one family problem, and it was an unpleasant task to have to burden her with another. At least Sunset were no longer a direct threat to them, the thought of which made Twilight breathe a sigh of relief. With no chance of unpleasant intervention, the record day suddenly did not seem so frightening a prospect. In reality, Dash had already broken the record. The day at the Cloudiseum was little more than a formality for the bookkeepers, and perhaps a chance for Dash to meet some other ponies with an interest in flying. When she caught sight of Twilight and the Princess, Dash broke into a canter, and Fluttershy quickly followed suit. The two pegasi made their rapid way across the cobblestones to where Celestia and her student stood. “Is everything okay?” Dash exclaimed, and then hurriedly bowed. “Uhh, sorry, your Highness,” she amended hastily. “Don’t worry, Rainbow Dash,” Celestia said, warmly. “Twilight has given me much to think about, and I am in a much less bleak state of mind than I was when you were last here. I have some news that you will doubtless find most interesting, but I feel that it is Twilight’s to impart if she chooses, not mine.” She took off, hovering about five feet in the air above them, her wings flared and casting dancing shadows across the cobblestones. “Thankyou for being there for me, Twilight,” she said, her smile genuine. “It is an honour to have you as my student.” Twilight blushed, delighted with the compliment from her mentor, but before she could respond there was a shimmering flare of arcing light, and the Alicorn was gone, on her way back to Canterlot. There was silence for a few moments. “So,” Fluttershy began, pawing one hoof nervously on the warm stones and not making eye contact with Twilight. “What’s happened?” I can’t tell Dash what the Princess was planning to do, I just can’t. For her sake; it’s better for her not to know. One piece of news that she could safely tell both of them sprang up to the forefront of her brain, and she grinned in relief. “Good news first,” she paused for a second. “Sunset’s finished. The guards went in this morning and their leaders are in the cells.” Fluttershy let out a relieved squeak, and Dash punched the air with a front hoof. “Awesome!” she yelled, hugging Twilight in excitement. “No worries for the record, then?” Twilight shook her head. “Nope, you’re in the clear. All you have to worry about now is wind.” Dash pulled her head away from Twilight’s, and winked at her. “Wind, I can handle. It was the terrorist maniacs on the loose that had me a bit worried.” With good reason, Twilight thought to herself, going cold at the thought of what might have been. Impulsively, she pulled the slightly surprised but entirely willing Dash close again, suddenly terrified at how close she had come to losing her. A single tear ran fortunately unnoticed down her cheek, and she blinked the moisture forcibly from out of her eyes. “What was the matter with the Princess?” Dash asked, her muzzle pleasantly close to Twilight’s ear. The unicorn reluctantly released her so that she could make her carefully-weighted reply without being muffled by Dash’s mane. “…I think she was scared of her own power,” she said, quietly, so only Dash and Fluttershy could hear her. “She’s scared of the choices that she has to make from time to time. She’s ancient, a lonely goddess. I guess every now and then something happens to make it all those millennia just spill out. I’m the only one that she can talk to about it, except her sister. I…” She paused for a second, contentedly mulling over her next words. “I think she considers me a friend, as much as a student.” Fluttershy smiled. “It looks like you’ve been able to help each other, then. Did she say anything else?” Twilight blushed a little, uncomfortable with omitting such an important truth. “Uh, nothing important, I don’t think-” She broke off. At that moment, Spike rounded the corner, a bundle of quills clutched in his claws. Seizing on the distraction, Twilight called out to him. “No sofas, then?” “Nope, a bit on the heavy side,” Spike smirked, halting beside them and waving at Dash. “Hey, how’s the training going?” “Hey, Spike,” Dash grinned. “Just broke twelve-twenty today.” “Nice one,” Spike replied, impressed. “Does that mean you’ve got the record, then?” Twilight stepped in, knowing that this was more her field. “Not yet. While she’s technically broken the record, we can’t prove it because I’m not an official from any of the record archives. Last time, they had replays and everything to look at, so even though it wasn’t planned, it could still be judged. Sure, we could probably get a judge down to Ponyville and do it quietly, but the Mayor of Cloudsdale might just murder us for wrecking the publicity stunt the record attempt’s bound to be.” Spike nodded, uncertainly. “I see...” His tone of voice indicated that he was not quite sure if he saw or not. Fluttershy’s eyes suddenly widened. “I’ve just thought, Angel’s got a sniffle and I promised him I’d be back in to check on him. Twilight, is it okay if I grab those books I came for?” “That’s what the library’s there for,” Twilight smiled. She and Fluttershy trotted into the tree, and thanks to Twilight’s lightning-fast book location skills, emerged a few minutes later, with Fluttershy clutching a small stack of volumes to her chest. “Thanks, Twilight,” she said, gratefully. Glancing at the sun, she suddenly looked a little worried. “Oh dear, I hope I’m not late for Angel, he won’t be happy at all.” Nervously, she trotted off across the street, waving back over her shoulder at the two ponies and one dragon. Dash smirked. “I’m startin’ to get worried about her relationship with that rabbit, ya know…” “I know what you mean.” Twilight giggled. “She’s got more patience than me,” Spike growled. “I wouldn’t spend one more day with that little carrot-flinging monster.” As they walked back into the library, Twilight’s face grew serious as she realized that she was out of options. Fluttershy had gone, and they were no longer in a public place. She had no reason other than cowardice to not tell Dash about her half-sister. She knew that Dash would want to know, even if it hurt her to hear it. Spike headed upstairs, tuning fork in claw, presumably to check his maturing gemstone, and Twilight turned to the pegasus beside her. “Rainbow,” she said, nervously, “the Princess told me something else about Sunset. Just… sit with me for a moment.” Dash’s eyes were wide and concerned at the expression on Twilight’s face, which was akin to a pony at the bedside of a sick friend. A little nervously, she joined Twilight on the rug, resting a reassuring hoof on the unicorn’s back. “What’s the matter, Twilight?” Twilight took a moment to gaze into Dash’s magenta eyes, the depths of which were now free of the pain and fear that had haunted the pegasus through so much of her life, and now they seemed to shine in their depths, hypnotizing, stretching the moment into an eternity. Twilight took a deep, calming breath, hoping against hope that she was not about to cause yet more damage to the pony that she cared about the most. * Fluttershy’s cottage was a cheerful racket, birds that preferred not to brave the sudden afternoon heat were savouring the cool indoors, circling the ceiling in a twittering, flittering mass of colour. One occupant of the room was not in such good spirits, however. The red-nosed, bleary Angel sat tucked up in a bed that Fluttershy reserved for sick animals of his size, an incongruously large box of tissues and a steaming bowl of lemon tea beside him. “Come on, Angel,” Fluttershy chided, gesturing towards the untouched bowl of tea. “I know it’s not very nice with a sore throat, but it’ll make you feel better quickly.” The rabbit seized a tissue from the box, and blew his nose violently, throwing her a look over the billowing paper. The look suggested that he considered her medical expertise to be sadly lacking. Fluttershy sighed, knowing that when Angel dug his heels in over something, no amount of persuasion would yield results. “What if I add some carrot juice?” she asked, a little desperately. Angel shook his head, emphatically, his ears flapping this way and that through the holes in the miniature nightcap that he had reluctantly allowed Fluttershy to clothe him in. As frustrating as the rabbit was, Fluttershy somewhat enjoyed their battles of willpower, finding them more interesting than the easily-treatable birds and bears that she usually assisted in her day-to-day life. She smiled thoughtfully, heading into the kitchen to retrieve the carrot juice, more in hope than expectation. Unbeknownst to her, however, a battle of wills of a much more internal nature was occurring outside her front door at that very moment. * Just knock the door, you’ve come this far, what are you waiting for? Rarity was hovering nervously just outside the cottage, her mane pedantically sculpted, more for her own benefit than any realistic chance of improving her odds. She had resigned herself to failure, but had come to the conclusion that she wanted to be able to enjoy her best friend’s company again, and she could not do so in her current, restless state. I don’t want to make her upset, though. What if she thinks it’s wrong or creepy of me? It’s Fluttershy! She’ll understand! Oh, enough of this nonsense! I am a mare of worldly experience, and I refuse to get into another argument with myself. It is most unladylike to initiate an argument with oneself. With a determined gritting of her teeth, Rarity raised a hoof and knocked three times on the door. Her heart pounded as she heard hoof-steps on the other side of the door. Sooner than she was prepared for, there was a rattle of a handle, and the door swung open. Through her nerves, Rarity could not help but notice that the door seemed rather loose and wobbly on its hinges, as if it had been subjected to some violent openings recently. This thought was driven from her head, however, when she saw Fluttershy, whose eyes lit up as she smiled welcomingly. “Rarity! It’s great to see you! …Are you alright?” The pegasus appeared to notice the small beads of sweat on her friend’s brow, and the way that her eyes were darting skittishly from side-to-side. “Huh? Oh, yes, I’m fine, darling.” Rarity forcibly composed herself, brushing the sweat nonchalantly from her brow, hoping that her heart was not actually audible across the gap between them. “It’s this heat, I’m sure that it’s simply playing havoc with my coiffure.” She paused, nervously. “May I come in for a moment?” “Oh, of course, of course,” Fluttershy stood to one side, ushering the unicorn indoors with a wave of the hoof. “It’s nice to see you,” she added, smiling. “Lovely to see you too,” Rarity replied, hoping that her voice did not sound too husky. She decided to cut as directly to the point as she felt capable of doing. “Fluttershy, I’ve come here because I need to talk to you about something.” “Really? Oh dear, has something happened?” Fluttershy’s ears flattened themselves, nervously. It’s so cute when she does that... Rarity shook her head slightly, determinedly focusing herself. “Oh, nothing dear, nothing bad. No dragons or anything.” Fluttershy let out a sigh of relief. “That’s always a good thing,” she said with a small giggle, hiding bashfully behind her mane as she often did. She’s so shy about the smallest of things… I hope I don’t traumatize her too badly. “Come on, have a seat,” the pegasus continued, oblivious to Rarity’s concern. “Would you like some tea?” “I’m alright, thank-you… Oh dear.” A flying carrot-end had struck Fluttershy a glancing blow on the side of the head, and she looked around to see Angel holding out an empty bowl with a long-suffering look on his face that seemed to say: only for you. “Angel, you drank it!” Fluttershy exclaimed, fluttering eponymously over to the miniature bed and taking the proffered bowl. “See, you’ll feel better tomorrow, just wait and see.” She leaned forwards, hopefully. “Do you want another?” The rabbit turned away, as if to tell her not to stretch his generosity any further that day. Moments later, he was snoring, pointedly. Satisfied that her job was, for the moment, accomplished, Fluttershy turned back to Rarity, a pleased smile on her face. “You and your animals,” laughed Rarity. Fluttershy nodded. “I tell you, if Angel were on fire he’d refuse a bucket of water.” They both burst out laughing at this, although for Rarity it was a bittersweet moment. She hoped fervently that this was not the last laugh she shared with Fluttershy as a friend. As if pushing her unknowingly onwards, Fluttershy looked across enquiringly at her. “What did you need to speak to me about?” Rarity took the earlier offer of a seat, and sat down delicately on the sofa, where Fluttershy joined her. The unicorn looked into her friend’s eyes, and it felt as if a stone were blocking her throat. “Fluttershy, I… I’m sorry,” she said, haltingly. “Sorry for what?” Fluttershy’s eyes were wide and unsure. “For what I’m about to say,” Rarity continued, then pressed on before she could get cold hooves and grind to a halt. “Fluttershy, you’re my best friend, but recently it’s hurt me to spend time with you. You’ve probably noticed, I can never be comfortable when you’re near.” “Rarity…” Fluttershy looked intensely worried, tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “Have I done something wrong? Don’t you want us to be friends anymore?” You’ve really done it now, Rarity berated herself, realizing how cruel her words had sounded out of context. There was no going back now, if only to try and mend the hurt in Fluttershy’s eyes. “No, no!” she hastily qualified herself. “Please don’t think that, it’s not like that at all.” She took a deep breath, the pause stretching out. With one final push, Rarity flung herself headfirst into the abyss. “The truth is.... I like you, Fluttershy. As so much more than a friend. In truth, I think I love you. Every time I’m with you, I know it’s impossible, but I love you so much it hurts. I hate myself for burdening you with this, I just can’t go on knowing that every time I see you, I’m hiding from you.” She felt her own eyes well up, and in the silence that followed her fear was building, overpowering the rush of relief at finally letting her feelings out. Fluttershy was staring at her, as if frozen, a brick-red blush creeping up her cheeks. Then, her eyes resurged, silently overflowing, the tears inching one-by-one down her cheek. “Rarity, I… I’m so sorry.” Rarity blinked. She had assumed that Fluttershy was crying out of embarrassment or betrayal. Why was she apologizing? “You’re… You’re sorry?” she whispered. “Why?” “Rarity, I can’t tell you how flattered I am that you feel that way about me. There’s nothing I’d like better than to say yes, I can see how much you want me to… but I… I can’t. It’d be cruel of me to string you along like that.” She broke eye contact, blushing furiously. “It’s not you,” she added, hurriedly. “I’ve just never felt that way about a mare.” “You don’t hate me, then?” Rarity breathed, her eyes wide. The disappointment of even this gentle rejection weighed heavily on her chest, but she had prepared herself for it. Her greatest fear had been that Fluttershy would no longer want to be friends with her, or would be disgusted by her advances. “Of course not, Rarity. You’re still one of my best friends, no matter what.” The pegasus sighed, regretfully. “I’m just sorry I can’t be more than that.” Rarity shook her head. “Fluttershy, you are who you are. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for; this is my problem, not yours. But… Thankyou. Thankyou for being so understanding.” Fluttershy smiled weakly, still blushing. “I promise it’s not you, Rarity,” she repeated. “You’re a wonderful, beautiful pony, but I… I’ve never thought of another mare in that way.” Rarity nodded, trying to stop her lip from quivering. Leaning forwards in sympathy, Fluttershy hugged her friend reassuringly. The unicorn responded tentatively, not wanting to appear too eager or intrusive, despite the distracting and intoxicating sensation of contact with Fluttershy’s silken fur. She closed her eyes, feeling a final tear well up over her eyelid. Despite the unhappy confirmation of what she already knew, she was grateful beyond words that Fluttershy did not seem repelled or threatened by her. The pressure that had been building in her chest ever since her visit to the library had seemed to evaporate. Her feelings for Fluttershy were unchanged and indivertible, but the pain that accompanied them had faded, the nagging ache no longer tugging at the corners of her mind. She knew that, of all ponies, Fluttershy would understand her. She had known all along; it was why she loved the mare. Rarity resolved to pay Spike a visit sometime in the next few days. She had a lot to thank the little dragon for.