The Cheval Glass

by Wintergreen Diaries


Chapter 3: Comfort

Ivory hooves remained motionless and limp, coated in the earthen color of the soil while a once brilliant white coat’s sheen had been overpowered by the dust. A mare, who could stroll into a high class dinner party and turn every eye, lay prone in the stillness of the night where she’d been tossed out like unwanted garbage; it wasn’t her pride that formed the rivulets streaming from her eyes, but sorrow that turned the parched ground to mud. Even as her indignation cried out in opposition, Rarity couldn’t even find the strength to be upset at the way she’d been driven from Pinkie’s home, because all she could remember was the sadness welling within her friend’s eyes, the scathing glares from her family whom she’d never had the pleasure of meeting, and the question that had followed after.

“‘Why are... you here?’ Why... why would you even... ask that, Pinkie?” Rarity whispered, whimpering as a cool breeze sent a shiver down her spine. “Isn’t it... obvious why I’m here? That I care? That I’m... worried for you?” Strength of will is not always translated into physical durability, and Rarity struggled to her hooves as another chilly wind bit into her oft pampered coat. I cannot stay here... I would likely wake under a pile of rubble if I tried their patience any further, and I doubt any of these caves are furnished... Turning her eyes towards the only visible road, the mare began trotting back to town, hoping that she would be able to find a place to stay.

Forcing her fatigued limbs to a brisk trot to fight the encroaching numbness already starting in her hooves, Rarity started back towards Dodge City. In the silence of the night, there was little for her to do save let her mind gnaw upon her dilemma, relentlessly pursuing an answer that simply didn’t exist. Straining to recall all the bizarre and seemingly random comments that had given her pause over the last few months, Rarity found herself so deeply ingrained in fruitless contemplation that she didn’t even notice her arrival to town until a very drunk pony was cast unceremoniously at her hooves, kicked from the local bar. Recoiling as a stream of gibberish preceded limp hooves grappling at her own, Rarity distanced herself from the stallion staggering to his hooves and took a look around.

“Inn... inn... aha! There we are!” she said weakly with what could almost be misconstrued as excitement. “Just a bed and a shower is all I need. Oh, a shower would be simply divine right now... Good thing I... didn’t... bring any extra... bits.” Slowing to a stop as she realized she had, in her haste, taken absolutely no extra funds, she felt the flames of frustration flare bright for but a moment before an utter lack of motivation snuffed them out. “Oh, what’s the use...” she groaned, sinking into a sitting position and hanging her head. The scent of something from the inn’s stoves caused a different kind of shivering as the mare’s stomach made known the depth of its emptiness, though with it came just a flicker of hope.

“That’s right; I’m not entirely alone in this town,” Rarity thought to herself, looking down the road and coaxing herself upright. Trudging down the road with her head held low, she tried not to think about how selfish it was of her to think of imposing on somepony that she had only just met that day, but with Vanilla Chai’s kindness still fresh in her mind and the pangs of hunger gnawing at her gut, Rarity reasoned that she could squelch down her pride for a time. “How could I have any pride at all, after that…” her thoughts reminded her. Gritting her teeth in stubborn defiance, even as the act of resisting tears deepened her guilt, the mare wandered obliviously through town until her nose was blasted by the heavy scent of herbs, even through the sniffles, whereupon she lifted her eyes to find a little slice of home amongst a foreign land.

More cottage than condo and wonderfully out of place amongst the comparatively primitive architecture that populated Dodge City, Vanilla Chai’s residence was inspiringly efficient while pleasantly quaint. Fields of fragrant flowers and herbs grew within a studiously maintained garden protected by a proper fence, missing nary a single plank, with a discretely sized shed emblazoned with the likeness of mint leaves nestled in the corner. While still quite clearly of Dodge City design, the rounded archway near the front door and presence of brighter colors gave the house itself a very Ponyville feel. Pausing as her hooves began to clack, Rarity glanced down at the cobblestone path leading to the doorway and, for a moment, found her spirits lifted. Raising her wearied hoof to knock, Rarity did her best to accept her lowly position while quietly hoping that she wasn’t overstepping the bounds of Dodge City decency. Fortunately, it was with a smile that the door was answered.

“You look like you could use some tea,” Chai offered, matching her guest’s weak smile. “Do come in, it’s rather chilly out.”

Following the mare’s beckoning hoof, Rarity complied with a nod, pausing to dust her hooves on the floor mat before taking stock of her surroundings. “Dodge City, you never cease to surprise me,” she thought with half-hearted enthusiasm. Vanilla Chai had welcomed her into a home that proved extravagance wasn’t synonymous with impressive, and simplicity meant far from drab. Muted colors, thoughtful arrangement, and tastefully subtle decor stoked the flames of inspiration, though given the proverbial raincloud hanging over her head, Rarity couldn’t fully appreciate the heat they sought to impart. Gratefully sinking an unexpectedly comfy love seat with a soft groan as directed by her host, Rarity allowed herself a few moments of relaxation before turning her attention back to Chai.

“I feel I must apologize for imposing upon you at such an inconvenient hour of the night...” Rarity lamented, her eyes sinking to the floor. “I… hadn’t accounted for the possibility that I wouldn’t be received, and have only enough money for the train back to Ponyville.”

“Do you mean to stay here, then?” Vanilla asked, frowning a little and sounding hesitant as she asked.

“I…” Rarity started, honestly terrified at the thought of being put out. With no money, no connections, and starkly aware of her position, she swallowed hard and nodded. “I understand that we have only just met, and that I certainly have no right to ask more favors of somepony that’s already been more than understanding, but I have nowhere else to go.” Her eyes fell towards the floor as she realized that she was quite literally wringing her hooves, and clutched them to her chest as she awaited an answer, unable to quite identify what it was that she was picking up on. There was something in the mare’s tone, subtle, but definitely there, that made her fear for her chances, and she heaved an audible sigh of relief as Chai granted her request.

“I would be delighted to have you,” she replied, though still somewhat unsteady. “You’re more than welcome to stay, though I… I’m not sure that you’ll want to.”

“Not want to?” Rarity repeated, aghast. “Why, I can’t think of a single reason why anypony wouldn’t want to spend the night here! Take this seat, for example: not a single stitch out of place, just the perfect amount of cushioning, and quite the fitting shade of peridot. In fact,” Rarity continued with fervor, “I can’t think of a single thing that I don’t like about your lovely home. Granted, it’s not quite what I’m used to, but even still, I would be more than grateful to stay the night here.”

“It wasn’t the decor that has me worried,” Chai offered, the faint blush rising in her cheeks speaking of her gratitude for the kind words. “It’s my brother. He’s a little… different than most.” Having expected to have her guest demand clarification, Chai was quite perplexed as Rarity, stricken by the irony of her host being worried over her “different” brother when she was close friends with Pinkie Pie, devolved into somewhat dignified giggles. “I suppose that you’ll be staying, then?”

“That is most correct,” Rarity confirmed, thankful for the excuse to laugh. “It would be positively absurd for me to deny such hospitality on the notion that your own brother might cause me some slight discomfort.”

“He might touch you.” Being decidedly single and still struggling with the labor of celibacy, it was little wonder that Rarity’s mind immediately translated the neutral statement into something else entirely before she could pull back on the reins.

“Touch… how?” she said slowly, doing her very best to appear dignified despite the searing heat rising in her cheeks.

“Nuzzles, I imagine,” Chai murmured, quietly amused with her guest’s behavior. “He’s a very physical sort, but not in the sense you may be thinking.” How Chai could manage to make so small a grin so extraordinarily teasing, Rarity couldn’t tell, and she felt her body temperature spike as she was fixed under the mare’s steady gaze. “Shall I call him down, or do you need a moment?”

“D-don’t be silly, I am fine,” Rarity huffed, though she couldn’t help but share in the mare’s amusement. It was her that was being silly, after all. “Please, do call him. I would love to meet your brother.”

“As you wish,” Chai conceded with a shrug. “Minty? We have a guest!” Every bit as strong as the pungent aroma of quadruple strength tea and palpable long before the stallion had arrived was the excitement that filled the air, and Rarity turned towards the hallway as the call was met with immediate action, namely the telltale thump of hooves hurriedly racing down the stairs. Apprehension soon found its throne toppled by anticipation as the rhythmic drum of hooves sounded closer, and what little remained of nervousness escaped as muted laughter as Rarity watched the manic colt scrabble for traction as he rounded the corner. Noting briefly in her mind that it was difficult to get a proper look at him while racing about, her innate curiosity for appearances was soon sated as he bolted over, hopped onto her chair, and plopped himself down on her lap as if such behavior was entirely normal for a grown stallion, albeit one quite young.

With her presentation in widescreen awaiting her critique and an infectious grin stretched ear to ear, Rarity let her eyes roam. There wasn’t anything particularly eye-catching about him at a glance, save perhaps the palette of his coat and hair. His mane, trimmed to a decent length and neatly parted down the center, was of untainted white with pink stripes throughout, reminiscent of peppermint. His coat was of a vivid blue, bright enough to be eye catching but muted enough to avoid being abrasive, though it was his shimmering citrine eyes were what truly made the colt remarkable. Peering without reservation through the looking glass into the heart, Rarity could see, or rather sense, the overwhelming depth of goodwill bottled within the pony whose tail wagged back and forth, brushing her hind legs with every swish. It reminded her very much of the light that once filled Pinkie to the brim, and so it was that she regarded the stranger in kind, with patience and acceptance.

“Well, aren’t you an energetic one!” Rarity tittered, astonished that she didn’t feel the slightest bit miffed over the colt’s lack of etiquette. “And why should I be upset?” she thought to herself as she matched the newcomer’s smile with her own. “How important are manners if the pony clearly means well?” Somewhat surprised with herself as the observation struck a chord within, she returned her attention back to her living lap-warmer with growing interest and continued her introduction. “My name is Rarity, and-” Distracted by her scent and unable to pay attention, Rarity halted her pleasantries as the stallion’s snout dipped to her mane and gave a few tentative sniffs before indulging an audibly deep draft. Feeling more bemused than offended as the tickle of the stallion’s nose brushed her neck, Rarity remained quiet while the invader of her personal space took a few more sniffs and then quickly pulled away, almost as if he’d caught a whiff of something pungent.

“You smell nice.” Prolific in its brevity and infected with borderline toxic levels of cheer, Rarity found herself unable to conjure her dignity and berate the stallion for his breach in personal boundaries. “Actually, and you’re free to check my math on this, but I’d actually say that you’re within juuust a few decimals of reaching ‘fantastic.’”

“It’s, err…” Rarity mumbled, unable to remember her usual cocktail of fragrances due to the rush of hormone’s muddling her thoughts. Either she was really, really desperate, or being intently sniffed was something she found strangely erotic: possibly both. “Probably both,” she concluded, coughing politely. “A f-few decimals, you say?” she began, absentmindedly twirling a few locks about with a hoof. “It’s the dirt, isn’t it?”

“A healthy smattering of dust is definitely worth a few points,” Minty chortled, pawing the mare’s chest for no reason in particular. “By my count, there’s lavender, rose petals, sandalwood soap, Dodge City dust, Ponyville dirt, unscented mascara, traces of clean linen, denim, velvet, silk, common yarn, cotton thread, and trace amounts of twenty three gratifying scents both organic and chemical. Hooowever,” he continued, his brow furrowing with intense concentration, “there’s something in there that I haven’t smelled before.”

“Something new, Minty?” Chai repeated with notable interest as her brother dipped his snout back in for seconds. While the stallion went rooting around, she and Rarity shared a mutual understanding look of equal parts acceptance and apology, and within a short while Minty ceased his investigation and shook his head.

“It is, it’s something new!” he exclaimed, clapping his hooves and thrusting his face so close to Rarity’s that her horn was actually poking his forehead. “You’ve brought me something new. You know what that means?”

“If I must be honest, I’ve not the faintest idea,” Rarity said unsteadily, trying her best not to recoil. Flashing the mare a wonderfully energetic grin before leaping to the floor, Minty leapt onto the coffee table and, whether by laudable dexterity or dumb luck, managed not to knock a single thing out of place, nor spill a single drop of tea from the cup that rested upon it.

“There’s something magical about smelling something for the very first time. Today, I discovered a new scent to track down, and that calls for a celebration!” he announced, standing tall with purpose etched into his every feature. “Sis, may I-”

“You may,” she answered, reading her brother’s intent with an approving nod. “Make it special; our guest has had a rough day.”

“Just leave everything to me!” Bounding like a fox through the winter snow, Minty cleared the furniture and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Rarity to recover while Chai hid her smile behind her mug of tea.

“You’d never be able to tell, but he does all the decorating,” Chai mentioned after a few minutes of silence, nabbing Rarity’s attention.

“Does he really?”

“Along with aromatherapy, gardening, puppet shows, and a myriad of other skills,” she explained, her gaze falling to her cup. “Minty is a stallion of two drives, one selfish, and one not. For himself, he scours Equestria seeking new scents to stimulate his senses, and for others, he gives freely of the energy that his passion supplies. Do not be mislead, I’m aware that his behavior is anything but normal, but what he lacks in etiquette, he makes up for in heart. Whereas I… I just brew tea." Being one who strove to capture the spotlight, Rarity could spot the feeling of being overshadowed from a mile away, and she wasn't having it: not with the mare that had been so kind to her.

“‘Just?’” Rarity parroted with obvious indignation. Having been expecting awkward silence, Chai leveled her gaze at her guest and perked her ears. “I’ve a friend who, quite like Minty, is a veritable jack of all trades who goes to great lengths, often ridiculously so, simply to get her friends to laugh. In fact, the town relies on her far more than she realizes. However,” Rarity continued, a touch more stern, “for her antics, she requires a great deal of things: balloons, streamers, cupcakes, rubber chickens… the list could go on.”

“I… don’t think I understand,” Chai stated flatly, showing no emotion.

“That’s likely because I haven’t finished,” Rarity said, tossing the demure mare a wink. “There is a pony back in Ponyville whose life is selling party supplies. He doesn’t throw the parties, he doesn’t make the little colts and fillies laugh, doesn’t get to see their eyes light up when they walk into a surprise party, but without him, such things wouldn’t happen at all. I…” Rarity paused, softening her tone, “sell dresses. It’s often stressful work, and the vast majority of my clients care little for anypony other than themselves, but must also be ponies who truly appreciate my work. Even if I never meet them myself, and never get to see how I’ve impacted them, that doesn’t change that even with something as simple as a dress, a life can be touched. That… is true generosity: giving of oneself even when one knows there will never be a tangible return.” Lifting her eyes, Rarity met Chai’s timid expression with a meek smile of her own, and brought her point back to where it needed to be.

“You may think that brewing tea is something mundane, something that anypony could do, and therefore makes you unspectacular, but you would be wrong to think like that. A warming brew can whisk away even the harshest of woes, if only for a few minutes. I’m certain that of the many ponies whom you’ve served, there have been many that have been touched by the love with which you go about your work, even if you cannot see it. After all,” she smiled, “had you not offered me a cup of tea, I would be homeless right now, and I’m grateful beyond words that we met.”

Where once there existed a mare whose range of outward emotion hardly seemed to shift, there sat a mare whose eyes brimmed with tears of thanksgiving. Meeting her halfway, Rarity welcomed Vanilla’s embrace and held her tight, unconcerned with the tears soaking her coat.

“Thank you,” Chai whispered between quiet sobs. “Thank you so much…”

“You’re quite welcome, dear,” Rarity soothed, sniffling herself. “If I’m to be entirely honest, as my dear friend Applejack would have me be, I must confess that I’m actually grateful that you greeted me not with something mellow or watered, but that shockingly potent tea.”

“R-really?” Chai stammered, doing her best to compose herself.

“Quite,” Rarity confirmed, showing the mare an encouraging grin. “I know that I haven’t shown it as strongly as I usually do, but I tend to hold myself as, well... a mare of class, shall we say.”

“A snob?”

“Yes, if we must put labels on things, a snob,” Rarity agreed with a teasing sigh. “Today has been one instance after another of things going wrong, and it’s quite difficult to hold your head higher than the rest after you’ve just sprayed tea all over another’s face.”

“So I would assume,” Chai replied with quiet giggle.

“So, after everything that happened today that’s left me unable to carry on as I usually would, I… feel like I’m starting to really begin to understand how far I’ve moved from the mare I once aspired to be...” Unwilling to bear the sadness of the one who had unwittingly told her what she had been longing to hear, Chai quietly reached over to her glass of tea resting on the end table and brought it to close to Rarity’s mouth. “Should I be worried?” Rarity asked with a weak smile.

“Mm mm,” Chai murmured, shaking her head. Nervous and quietly longing for approval, Vanilla watched earnestly as the mug was accepted within a pale blue aura, but the sigh that followed as the glass was brought to her guest’s lips dispelled her worries. “This may not mean much, coming from somepony that you’ve only just met, but I know you’ll become what you want to be. No matter how deep a diamond is buried, that doesn’t make it any less precious. You have a beautiful heart, Rarity. Even I can see that.”

“I… y-you really mean…” Rarity stammered, a familiar pressure rising behind her eyes. “Permission to bawl?” she squeaked, barely holding back. The open hooves revealed that holding back was unnecessary, and Chai couldn’t help but grin as she held Rarity close, even as veritable streams sprang from the mare’s eyes. Though she’d shed plenty of tears, there were few things as cleansing as a good, old-fashioned tantrum, and Rarity was thankful that Chai didn’t seem to mind.

“So much for class,” Chai murmured, chuckling softly as Rarity stuck out her tongue in response. “Come now, dry your eyes. Dinner should be ready soon, and Minty likes to lick tears.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Rarity laughed, pawing at her eyes before accepting the offered tissue. Having regained her composure and veritably famished, she eagerly followed after Chai, though she knew that she likely hadn’t shed the last of her tears that night. There were still matters of her heart that she could feel churning just beneath the surface, but for just a little while, they could wait while she enjoyed the unexpected generosity of her hosts.


Isolated from outside sources of mirth, the Pie residence found itself smothered under an uneasy silence. Pinkie Pie’s unprecedented outburst at Rarity’s presence and subsequent command that she be left alone had cowed everypony, even her immovable father Igneous, and if her sister’s were to be honest, they were as frightened as they were worried. More and more, it seemed as though the light-hearted pony they had cherished and loved were being suppressed by something that they couldn’t quite identify. It wasn’t that they feared that Pinkie Pie had somehow morphed into some malicious entity, no, it was obvious in the short time they’d spent undisturbed with her that the Pinkie they remembered was still there. The unmistakable anguish that had sounded in her voice when she confronted Rarity, however, had for a short time obfuscated the seemingly unwavering levity that had come to define who she was, and that, more than her harsh words, grieved her family.

“I’m really scared, sis,” Inkie whispered, glancing towards the doorway as if expecting Pinkie Pie to come breaking through at any moment. “I’ve never heard her yell like that before, not even when that boulder trapped her hoof. And her eyes-”

“I know, Inkie, I know,” Blinkie interjected softly, doing her best not to let on that she too was quite shaken. “It’s not like her to act like that, but she must have a reason,” she murmured, as much for her own comfort as her sibling’s. “Everypony gets angry sometimes, but I don’t think Pinkie Pie has really become a… um…”

“Grouch?” Inkie offered, her timid voice wavering.

“Right…” Blinkie said quietly, closing the distance between them and pulling her sister close. They both gave a start as a sniffle not their own sounded in the silence, and though they would have liked to welcome Pinkie, they couldn’t help but regard her with alarm as she stepped out of the shadows. “P-Pinkie? H-how long have you been-”

“I’m not…” Blinkie wouldn’t have imagined that she were even capable of adding guilt to the already extensive list of emotions held within her heart, but upon hearing the desperation laced within her sister’s hollow voice, she couldn’t help but cringe as nausea coiled within her stomach. “I’m… I’m not a grouch,” she pressed, her head bowed towards the ground as if to give the tears streaming from her eyes an easier means to soak the floor. “I just- I got scared, and I panicked, and… and I… I-” Having already begun moving towards the mare, Blinkie caught Pinkie as her strength gave way, grunting quietly as the full weight of her sister’s limp form brought them both to the floor. Bracing herself as the sudden weight toppled her backwards, Blinkie waited for the painful impact of her back slamming into the floor. Instead, she found herself propped against something warm and soft, and she quietly thanked Inkie with a smile for catching her before returning her focus to the one soaking her coat.

“Sis? We know you’re not a grouch.” Though anypony outside the family wouldn’t know it, when used among the sisters the term “grouch” was actually a much harsher term than one would think. It wasn’t something often raised in discussion, but each of the three sister’s had struggled to overcome and tame various aspects of who they were. For Inkie, ever the gentlest of the sisters, it was timidity. A walk through town, even with her family, filled her with terror for much of your youth, and it was only through constant encouragement that she found the strength to face her fears.

The reputation for being the refuge to which Inkie could run, however, something that Blinkie couldn’t claim to have always upheld. She couldn’t rightly say why it was that things frustrated her so, why even the simplest of nuisances made her blood boil, but for much of the time before Pinkie found her calling as one who thrives on spreading smiles, a good day for Blinkie was keeping from breaking something not meant to be broken. “Being a Blinkie” became synonymous for lashing out among the foals other foals at school, and for several painful years, she wore the name “grouch” like a crown of thorns that she felt powerless to remove. It wasn’t until Pinkie smiled for the very first time since their grandmother’s passing that Blinkie found the courage to confront the darker elements of her heart, and that Inkie thought she might someday find her shadow to be a little less scary.

“‘If she can smile when she feels sad, then maybe we can get better too.’ That’s what we said,” Blinkie recalled, looking over to find Inkie doing her very best to be brave. “And we did get better. We all did, and now it’s time to do the same for her.” Pinkie hadn’t ever been one to put much stock in words. Blinkie theorized that was the reason why comforting her proved so futile when they were children, but if they were to show Pinkie that she was loved, that she hadn’t driven them away, that she was truly not something so monstrous as to be branded a grouch, then they would have to show it through their actions in a manner she could comprehend - by bringing her a smile.

For anypony not privy to the convoluted laws of social contract, it might come as a surprise to find that something as physical as a hug and, under some circumstances even kisses, aren’t the most intimate gesture one can offer to another. Even ponies that have only just made each other’s acquaintance will often part with an embrace, and in some places a quick peck is nothing more than a greeting. So, if two sisters were seeking to show their kin that there existed an undeniable bond between themselves that remained unweathered by time and travesty, then it would only make sense that they show their love in a manner reserved only for those that are dearest to their hearts; something not to be wantonly given away or committed in public, however great the temptation might be to do so. Pinkie Pie was entirely unprepared for the way she was flipped onto her back, nor did she understand why Blinkie felt the need to pin her limbs spread eagle, but as Inkie dipped her snout towards an admittedly sensitive area, Pinkie had but a few fleeting moments to prepare her mind what her body was all too ready for. Inkie opened her mouth, Pinkie grabbed as much oxygen as her lungs could hold, they both closed their eyes… and then extremely rude noises sounded from her tummy.

Raspberries: there was no greater display of affection they could show. From the bottom floor, Igneous and his wife both smiled as the creaky timbers of their family home trembled under the the raucous laughter pouring down from above. Their daughter had most assuredly come home, and though they recognized that there were yet rocks in her journey, so too would there be gemstones. They weren’t the best with words, but with hooves clasped together and their heads resting lightly together, the two parents listened with welcome ears to the melody that surely even the stones could hear.