//------------------------------// // Chapter 1: Quiet // Story: The Cheval Glass // by Wintergreen Diaries //------------------------------// For one so joyfully rambunctious, you really... sleep quietly, Pinkie. Through half-lidded eyes still heavy with sleep, Rarity peered at the mare snoring softly beside her. In stark contrast of her usual unbridled gaiety, Ponyville’s party mare lay calm, with her hooves tucked up to her chest and a mane full of ribbons. Attempting to tame such a full-bodied mane was a woeful waste of hair product, as Rarity had found after numerous attempts, but that didn’t mean that it couldn’t be persuaded, or at least spruced up. And yet, as genuine as the mare’s enthusiasm seemed to be, Rarity couldn’t well believe that Pinkie had found a passion for fashion, and the mare’s increasingly flirtatious behavior had become a point of concern. While I am... grateful that nothing happened last night, the fact remains that she is in my bed. I can honestly say that I never expected to extend this courtesy to Pinkie Pie, of all ponies, but she looked... so very desperate... Shifting her weight with every intention of climbing out of bed so as to start her day, Rarity was given cause to delay as her friend rolled over and curled up to her side, mumbling incoherently in her dreams. Hesitating for a moment, Rarity let loose a sigh and slipped a hoof around Pinkie Pie, holding her lightly. At first, the baker’s visits to that place of glamour had been few and far between, starting some three months back. Rarity was at first annoyed with the change, as Pinkie’s natural exuberance made concentration effectively pointless, and while she had shooed the mare out a few times in her frustration, Rarity had begun to pick up on subtle shifts in Pinkie Pie’s behavior. With anypony else, taking a nap wouldn’t be cause to so much as bat a carefully maintained eyelash, but when the spirit of sugar suddenly ceased her antics at a word and made use of the nearest bed, legitimately conking out for a good hour or more, the act took on new meaning. Also, and perhaps this was just the late bloom of maturity in a child who was never expected to grow up, Pinkie had developed the curious habit of responding with startling seriousness, especially surrounding the field of romance. Rarity continued to ponder these things for a while as the mare, as calm and tranquil as a still pond, batted an ear and giggled at a joke unheard by the woken. “You really are a complicated mare, aren’t you?” Rarity murmured with a tinge of a smile. I always knew that whoever ended up with you was going to have their hooves full, but to think that you had such a tender side... Memories of the prior evening came drifting back, along with the painfully awkward hesitation at the door. It was nearly midnight when Rarity had attempted to usher her out, only to have the mare’s mane slowly relax and fall around her shoulders. Not even her most expensive conditioners could manage such a feat, and the mare’s hushed voice asking to stay filtered back through the corridors of Rarity’s mind. “‘I’ll be really, really quiet,’ you said,” Rarity recalled, wrinkling her nose as a curl rubbed her snout. “‘You won’t even know I’m here,’ hmmm? I’m afraid you were mistaken in that, Pinkie, but that’s... quite alright.” “Does that mean we can do this again?” Startled by the sudden voice, Rarity hastily withdrew her hooves as eyes that reflected the sky lazily opened to greet her own, accompanied a playful smile and slightly flushed cheeks. Shirking what remained of her drowsiness with a fitful yawn, Pinkie Pie fixed her attention on a hesitant mare searching for an answer. I know I shouldn’t press. I mean, she didn’t even want me to stay, but it was way better than sleeping alone... I’m not so sure I wish to encourage this, but... ugh, Pinkie, why must you be so aggravatingly sweet? “I’ll... consider it,” Rarity said slowly, watching her friend’s features come alive. “We did have quite a night last night, now didn’t we?” “I’ll say!” Pinkie cheered, throwing her hooves wide. “Remember when you were on your seventh drink, and you-” “Yes, quite!” Rarity hastily interjected, clapping a hoof over the mare’s muzzle. “Let’s just keep that a secret between you and I, shall we?” Blinking once, Rarity watched with mixed emotions as her friend clasped both hooves over the one pressed to her lips, nodding once. “Pinkie, dear, are you...” Rarity started, but fell silent. Asking questions always seemed to put a damper on the mare’s spirits, and at that moment, Rarity could tell that Pinkie’s cheerfulness was the real thing. She didn’t want to be the one to stifle the Element of Laughter, and thus Generosity allowed her hoof to remain where it was despite the curiosity and worry nagging at the back of her mind. “Goodness, my mane’s a disaster,” Rarity remarked, glancing across the room at a large mirror. “As loathe as I am to remove your pacifier, I must shower. May I have my hoof?” “Timeshare?” the mare offered, pulling away just enough to speak clearly. “Pinkie, it’s my hoof.” “Now, let’s not be stingy!” “What? I am not stingy.” “Great, then I’ll play with your hoof later!” “Of course you will,” Rarity conceded, rolling her eyes a little. “Now then, I-” “Need to get clean!” “Yes, that’s- Pinkie? What’re you doing?!?” Rarity wailed as she was bodily hoisted and paraded away. She didn’t finish the statement, primarily because within a few moments her questions were answered as she was gingerly tossed into her own shower. Without a moment to protest, a soothing cascade of steaming relaxation poured down upon the mare. “And I suppose you intend to accompany me?” Rarity asked, prying apart her mane to find that Pinkie Pie was already romping around the rather spacious, dual-nozzled shower. “Oookay, if you insist,” Pinkie Pie replied, lacing her words with skepticism as if accepting a questionable bargain. “Besides, everything is better with friends! Baking, sewing, drinking, bathing... everything!” It didn’t take long weighing the the options to realize that sending the mare away sopping wet would not only send the wrong message to anypony watching her exit, but also like leave the mare pitifully crestfallen. “Fine, you may stay,” Rarity said with a sigh, closing her eyes and holding a hoof to her head. This needs to stop... I can imagine worse romps than spending a night with Pinkie, but this isn’t her. If only she’d tell me what’s wrong... “Did I do something wrong?” “Huh?” Rarity murmured, brushing away violet locks to reveal Pinkie Pie focusing intently on her with a look a deep concern. “You’re not gonna send me away, are you? Do you want me to go?” “Wha... no, dear, why ever would you say such things?” Rarity soothed, standing and drawing close. I can’t keep running from this... Staunch feelings of dread churned the mare’s empty stomach into a roiling mass of discomfort as Rarity braced herself to ask what she’d been wishing to know for the past few months. “Is there something on your mind, Pinkie?” For Pinkie, her lack of a response cried out louder than the blast of her party cannon. “Would you... like to talk about it?” “Sure! I love talking!” Pinkie fired back with a transparent grin. “What would you like to talk about? We could talk about chocolate, or rain, or chocolate rain, or raining chocolate, or-” “I’d like to talk about whatever it is you’re avoiding. And don’t even try to deny it, Pinkie,” Rarity interjected as the mare opened her mouth and raised a hoof to make adamant and indignant rebuttal. “I may be a lady, but I am no fool, and you’ve been skirting around the subject for a while now.” “Skirting? Oh, nonono, I don’t wear skirts. I like that dress you made, though! The one with the peppermint swirls?” Rarity’s stern gaze was unwavering, whittling through the mare’s layered facade of smiles. Pinkie slowly sat down, staring at the floor as water coursed around and through her mane, streaming down her muzzle like tears she hadn’t the ability to shed. I don’t want to ask. If I ask, then I’ll get an answer, and I already know the answer, and it’ll just hurt worse if I have to hear it, and there won’t be... anything to keep me smiling... Rarity watched with growing concern as Pinkie’s mane gradually lost its volume, straightening and melting melting her shoulders as it had the previous evening. “I’ve... gotta keep smiling...” Pinkie, why in Equestria won’t you just open up to me? Formality and social perception had no bearing when set alongside the needs of a friend. Concern canceled any shame that might have tried to take hold as Rarity joined Pinkie’s flow and drew her close, delicately wrapping the mare in a caring embrace. She’s... shaking? But... but she cannot possibly be cold! Pinkie... With a multitude of questions begging for answers, there was one that stood out above all the rest, and was the only one that Rarity dared to ask. “Is there... anything I can do to help?” At first, there was no response, but a gentle pressure against her chest bid Rarity relax her grip. No longer able to tell if the water coursing down the mare’s cheeks were from the shower or not, Rarity’s breath caught as she found herself looking into clear, blue eyes that once blazed with passion. Instead, all she could see was sadness beyond her glassy reflection. “Pinkie...” Rarity couldn’t have know just how much self-control Pinkie had been putting out over the last few months, nor how many times she had nearly caved and let it all out. As anyone would attest, Pinkie Pie wasn’t the type to show restraint, whether it was drinking the Apple family’s cider dry or relentlessly tailing Rainbow Dash until she caved to the mare’s urge to play. However, every act eventually comes to a close, and as Rarity raised a hoof to the mare’s cheek, the last remnant of will power snapped. An ivory hoof fell limp and useless to Rarity’s side as Pinkie Pie closed the distance between them and leaned into a deep, though delicate, kiss. No tongue followed after, no rambunctious playtime or laughter, and even as Rarity’s first impulse was to pull away, she stayed where she was, wishing she could understand. Dizzy from the suddenness of unanticipated passion, Rarity blinked back water and confusion as Pinkie slowly withdrew, immediately looking away. As the silence stretched on, she timidly lifted her gaze, searching her friend’s face for rage, finding only perplexion in the wake of her advance. One may rightly say that the absence of anger should speak volumes of Rarity’s care for her friend, especially since she herself was rather sensitive to the subject of romance, but Pinkie couldn’t see this. No, all she saw was the absence of a smile. “I’m... sorry, Rarity...” Pinkie murmured, turning her head away once more. “I, uh... do not worry about it,” she replied hesitantly, her words forming slowly as she scrambled to make sense of what had happened. Each second painfully scraping passed was a moment a friend spent steeped in doubt, but try though she may, there simply wasn’t enough to go on. Forgive me, Pinkie, but I must be direct. “I am not angry with you, but I must admit I am rather... confused. What is this all about?” Rosen lips parted, making the movement of speech but none of the sound. Enshrouding both dials in a pale blue light, Rarity shut off the flows, listening as an uneasy quiet settled over the room. In the absence of a consistent cascade, the few remaining droplets dribbling from the spouts plopped onto the tile like miniature thunderclaps, and Rarity felt a lump rise to her throat as she realized that it wasn’t the shower that had caused the streams upon the mare’s face. “Pinkie, what...” Rarity began, reaching out only to have Pinkie scramble to her hooves. “Pinkie I couldn’t- Pinkie, wait a moment!” Rarity called out as the mare bolted towards the door. Rarity made as if to give chase, but froze as she was flashed a broken smile from her sniffling friend. “Thank you for having me over, Rarity. It was... really, really fun, but I need... need some sleep... Bye!” “I don’t... Pinkie, where are you going?” Rarity called out, starting after her as she fled despite the distraught unicorn’s cries. By the time Rarity had made it to the main room, the boutique lay empty, with the front door swaying in the breeze. Standing in the doorway in a condition she wouldn’t dare to be seen on any other occasion, Rarity brought a hoof over her lips as she caught the briefest glimpse of a once fluffy mane trailing behind her friend who quickly disappeared from sight. “Sleep?” Rarity echoed, her voice coming out quiet and frightened as she sank into a sitting position, scanning the crowds in a futile attempt to find what wasn’t there. Why would she be going to sleep if she just awoke? This is all wrong, and... and why would she... Letting her sopping mane shield her eyes from a bustling town empty of the one pony she wished to see, Rarity hung her head and closed her eyes. Even in the early morning, there was plenty of clamor about the town, but all she could hear was the laughter that wasn’t there, and it drowned out all the noise with silence. Rarity couldn’t say how long she remained in her doorway, staring out at the town, but it had to be longer than she perceived as her mane was partially dry by the time she rose unsteadily to her hooves. Plodding back inside, her heavy sigh was preceded by a passing glance towards one of her many mirrors, causing her momentary pause. Shaking her head and watching the naturally wavy mane bob its partially formed curls, she enshrouded a couple of products in her aura, holding them for a moment before letting the glimmering light fade; her mane would require too much effort in its current condition to tame, and she hadn’t the strength to fight it. Noting with wearied amusement that straight manes were still in fashion, she made a couple passes through her hair with a fine-bristled brush to at least maintain a decent appearance before returning to the main room and plopping down at her desk. While she didn’t have much cause to brag in a town like Ponyville, her success as a designer was garnering the attention of quite a number of big names, despite a certain Element’s near daily interruptions. At the same time, such immaculate ponies required equally divine apparel, and in the wake of her friend’s teary departure, Rarity just wanted to find something that wouldn’t require too much imagination. I never thought I’d curse my high profile, but I would certainly love something simple to work on right now. Perhaps some foal’s clothes, or a quilt- I haven’t quilted in quite some time, actually. Idly sifting through the stack of letters with a hoof, Rarity glanced at names and addresses with utter disinterest until a simple white envelope emblazoned with a red cross caught her eye, rousing what little curiosity she had the energy for. Without a second thought she broke the seal and began to read. “Dear Miss Rarity, I know that you are a talented seamstress, featured in multiple fashion publications, and likely bombarded with requests on a daily basis. While this letter may carry the official seal of the Manehatten Children’s Hospital, this is more of a personal request than anything else. I do not know if you are aware, but this establishment also doubles as an orphanage. There are many fillies and colts here who will likely never know a family other than the bonds they share with one another. Ordinarily, their spirits are high, despite the poor conditions, but recently, they have been in dour spirits. What I would like, Miss Rarity, is for somepony to make blankets for each of the children here. The rooms are so drab and colorless, it’s a wonder that they smile at all, but I really think a little color would go a long way. I had to beg the board of directors to allow me any funding at all for this, but I’m afraid I still cannot offer very much, no more than five bits a blanket. All told, there are some forty children here, so two hundred bits is all I can offer. If you do not wish to accept, I understand. Sincerely, Oopsy Daisy” Her hooves trembled as she set the page down and stared, awed as a tremendous wave of munificence crashed down upon her as passion seemingly forgotten flared within her chest. Anypony had only hear Rarity speak to know that she was sophisticated, one who could easily rub hooves with the elite of society despite her humble upbringing, and she couldn’t deny that she craved the popularity, fame, and fine treatment of a celebrity, but Rarity wasn’t as shallow as her dreams would appear. No, what set her apart was an unquenchable charity running deep within a heart as soft as diamonds were tough, and a sweep of the mare’s hoof sent a maelstrom of discarded envelopes fluttering to the floor as Rarity lifted over a pen and paper, feeling her desire rekindle like a breath of life as she began writing a response. “Dear Oopsy Daisy, Far be it from me to accept compensation that could be spent on children in need. It is often easy to forget how fortunate we are when we aren’t confronted with the truth of other’s needs with any kind of regularity, but it is not merely my duty to address them, but also my joy. Keep the money for the children; It would be my pleasure to make the foals’ blankets free of charge. Do not worry about delivery, either, as I shall bring them to the Hospital myself. I would dearly love to meet the children. Sincerely, Rarity” Never before had one small letter filled Rarity with so much excitement. Eager to begin, she hurriedly addressed an envelope and slipped her missive within before skipping to her mailbox and thrusting the letter inside, whereupon she let forth a squeal of glee before racing back inside to begin selecting fabrics and drafting designs. “Now, the colors must be bold and vibrant,” she muttered to herself, sifting through her vast arsenal of cloth. “Reds, yellows... oh, this pink would be lovely... so very soft, too! Oh, this will be fabulous!” Painting the skies within the boutique in streams of vivid magenta and rousing crimson, the mare cantered over to her drawing board, whipping out a couple of sketches and sitting down to begin, only to feel a tug of a more somber kind gently let the fabrics fall to the floor. “Even knowing nothing of fashion, I’m sure that Pinkie could be of use... I cannot imagine anypony wearing a frown with her hoofwork wrapped about their shoulders.” As if to confirm her suspicions, she took another look at her designs, only to find that they were as extravagant as any noblemare’s dinner dress. “How quickly am I caught in the moment,” Rarity lamented, heaving a sigh as she stood. As dearly as she’d have liked to push everything from her mind, the right and proper path of a friend was the one she chose to tread, leaving the shop and making straight for Sugarcube Corner. Not even the rich scent of pastry could dilute the heavily saturated fog of gloom pervading the bakery as Rarity stepped inside. Jubilant chatter had been replaced by a dull murmur while the ponies picked at their food with apathy, their sullen expressions the very opposite of the smile that was once the hallmark of the brightly colored establishment. Swallowing nervously as she strode down the center aisle, Rarity stepped up to the register and shuddered as Mrs. Cake spoke without an ounce of vigor. “Oh, hello, Rarity...” the mare said, sounding exhausted despite the sun only having been up for an hour. “Is there something I can get for you?” “I wish that I could indulge, but it is most urgent that I speak with Pinkie Pie at once,” Rarity managed in an even tone. “I fear that I may have hurt her feelings somehow, and I wish to make amends. Is she upstairs?” she asked, starting towards the hallway. “No, I’m afraid she’s not,” Mrs. Cake replied, slowing the mare to a stop. “Oh, I see... is she in the kitchen, then?” Mrs. Cake shook her head. “With the twins?” Another shake. “Out with friends?” Saying nothing, the motherly mare reached under the counter and pulled out a sheet of paper, sliding it across the case towards Rarity. Drifting closer, borne upon an azure aura, Rarity felt her heart sink into the pit of her stomach as she read but two words that sounded like a curse. By the look of the ponies around her, it worked like one, too. “Gone... home?” Rarity said slowly, glancing up in absolute confusion. “But... but I don’t understand! This is her home! Where else could she be?” “I’m guessing she went back to her family on the rock farm,” Mrs. Cake replied, sounding cross. The chastisement only added to a guilt she couldn’t begin to understand, and Rarity turned her eyes back to the page, staring at the surprisingly neat writing, only to notice that it had also been written upon with salt and water. Pinkie, could I really... have hurt you so deeply that you’d rather return to a place without color? Without laughter... “I think it would be best if you left, Rarity,” Mrs. Cake stated, avoiding eye contact as she busied herself cleaning the display case. Setting the page back down, Rarity cantered away without raising a fuss. How could she? There was no reason for her not to assume that she’d played a part in robbing Ponyville of their stabilizer, and that was reason enough to bow her head in shame. Stepping outside and cringing as the joyous tinkle of the bell was snuffed out by the latching of the door, Rarity lifted her eyes towards the bustling townsfolk and stifled a whimper as she watched them go about their business, still blissfully unaware that the Protector of Smiles had vanished. I cannot... truly consider myself to be a lady, no, even a friend, if I were to turn a blind eye to Pinkie in a time of such great need. It doesn’t matter that I must go to a place of dust and grit, where nopony knows my name... Even gems are buried under the soil, and I will dig as far as I must to find you, Pinkie. Though hesitancy quietly pleaded for prudence, Rarity couldn’t bring herself to pay her doubts any heed as she returned to the Boutique just long enough to grab enough bits to pay for train tickets before making for the station, determined to do whatever it would take to bring PInkie Pie back. Sun. Dirt. Rocks. Earthen hues wove a bleak and arid picture as the midday sun hung high over the Rambling Rock Ridge, home to a family of four and miles upon miles of stones, shale, boulders and pebbles. Their quarry, more commonly known as a rock farm, was the sole provider of tile, cobblestone, and many other purposeful but seemingly inconsequential materials, and aside from an oddly shaped tumbleweed, there was little to disturb the norm. That’s not to say that the Pie family wasn’t happy, however. Even though they had lost a daughter, gone to find herself in the world beyond the slag, the joy that their brightly colored filly had brought left a lasting impression upon each of their hearts: a joy to offset the dreary land that they called home. Perhaps it was this joy that fueled a young mare’s hooves as she beat a trail across the sands, eager to share her wonder with the curiosity that had wandered onto the farm. “Blinkie! Hey, Blinkie!” Inkie called out, skidding to a stop before her sister in a cloud of dust. Coughing a little and warding away the cloud with a hoof, the lavender mare fixed her ashen sibling with a bemused grin as she fidgeted in her excitement. “Inkie, what’s got you so excited?” Blinkie asked, glancing around the mare and finding nothing of note nearby. “Did you get into the salt again?” “No, sis, I’m not salty, I promise!” Inkie defended with a pout. “There’s a moving bush that’s colored all funny real close to the shale I was working!” “A bush? Like, a green one?” Blinkie replied with a voice laced in wonder. “It’s more than green, Blinkie! It’s got some pink in it, too! C’mon, sis! This way!” Abandoning the deposit of sandstone to tend to itself, Blinkie was soon galloping alongside her sister as the tantalizing notion of a distraction fueled giggles and chatter. Again skidding to a halt as she was prone to do, Inkie shot her coughing sibling an apologetic glance before raising a hoof towards the horizon, directing her sister’s attention to the green object slowly shuffling through the dust. “Isn’t that just the strangest thing you’ve ever seen, Blinkie?” “Whoa...” the mare exclaimed under her breath, her eyes growing wide as she watched the mass pause its journey. “I thought that maybe it was just a mirage, but I’m seeing it too! C’mon, let’s get closer.” Following Blinkie’s lead, Inkie plodded after her sister as she worked her way forward, making full use of the many rocks jutting from the ground for cover. Finding a niche big enough for the two of them and only a few pony lengths away from the mass of greenery, the two poked out their heads to observe the bush more closely, drawn by the allure of mystique. “See, sis? Can you see the pink?” Inkie whispered, poking out a little of her hoof towards the now-prone bush. “Uh huh,” Blinkie confirmed with a murmur, her eyes darting from place to place. “I’ve never heard of a plant that grows in such crazy directions,” she commented, drawing Inkie’s attention to the branches that seemed to haphazardly point out every which way. “Don’t most plants, I dunno... grow up straight? And why does the color of the trunk look so much darker than the branches poking out of the top?” “How should I know?” Inkie replied, nonplussed. “Maybe it’s magical?” “Well, duh!” Blinkie teased, giving her a playful tap on the shoulder. “Everypony knows that tumbleweeds are the only plants that move around so much. Besides, it-” A deathly hush swept over the two as a whimper found their ears, borne upon a stale breeze sweeping across the plains. “D-did it just...” “I h-heard it too!” Inkie confirmed with a muffled yelp. Their eyes grew wide as the bush attempted to move, it’s outer coat cracking in places and falling away, revealing beneath a vivid rosen hue. “Sis, that color! It’s...” It had been many years since they had seen a color so bright, but it was unmistakable. Inkie hopped down from her craggy hideaway with Blinkie close behind, and together they drew near the quivering mass of foliage. With a trembling hoof, Inkie reached out to touch what she had once thought was bark, but now found to be mud caked to a gaily colored coat. Blinkie too reached forward, revealing a trio of balloons with the gentle swipe of her hoof. “P-Pinkie?” At the sound of Inkie’s voice, trembling with emotion and barely constrained tears, the bush stirred. Wonder had dissolved into fear and excitement to horror as what was once thought to be a magical plant fixed unfocused, sapphire eyes on the soot-colored pony leaning close, and with a shaky hoof, the filthy mare reached forward, touching her beloved sister’s cheek. “You’ve... really grown up, sis...” The rosen hoof fell limp as the last of Pinkie’s strength gave out. Caving to the exhaustion that had tempted her with thoughts of giving in, Pinkie let her body have its way as caring hooves and distant cries of concern lulled her to sleep. Though her eyes remained cracked open, the party pony of Ponyville wouldn’t remember stepping through the door of her home for the first time in years. Despite the worry etched in the faces of her parents as they saw their eldest return in the worst of conditions, the comfort of their care filtered through. The corners of the mare’s exhausted muzzle tried their very best to lift towards the sky... but they fell short. Much like the arid ground outside, Pinkie’s smiles had run dry.