No Storms In Canterlot

by Esle Ynopemos

Don't Work Late On a Tuesday

Rarity sighed as she opened the door of her shop and peered outside. Gray clouds filled the sky, and there was already little streams of rainwater running between the cobbles in the street. One of these days, she would learn not to work late on Tuesdays. Just one of the habits she had picked up in Ponyville, she supposed. Native Canterlotians knew better than to stay at work past seven thirty on a rain-day.

She unfolded her umbrella and fixed it to its carrying saddle. Hardly anypony ever brought an umbrella to work—why would they, when everypony already knew when it was going to rain and thus when to get inside? But one Ponyville habit helped her compensate for the other. Her work ethic that wouldn't let her pack up and go home until the job was done, no matter what day of the week, was covered for by lessons learned as a filly to always be prepared for an unexpected swing in the weather.

Being prepared did not keep the sigh from her lips, however. She hated the rain in Canterlot; it was the one thing about the city that really got to her. Not that the rain itself was terribly onerous—it actually rained less there than it did in most of the surrounding areas, since it took less rain to water the small parks and gardens than it did to keep farmland healthy. But the nature of the rain was so... inorganic. Without exception, every Tuesday and Thursday the weatherponies would begin gathering clouds in the early evening and there would be a light drizzle that lasted from seven thirty on into the night.

It wasn't the weatherponies' fault. Okay, it was, in a way, but they could hardly be blamed for doing their jobs properly. It was just that it felt so monotonous, never getting a real spring storm like there would be in Ponyville when the weatherponies put off the rains for too long or when a wild chinook would rise out of the Everfree. Rarity recalled many nights sitting by the window back at Carousel Boutique, warming up with a mug of tea while she watched the lightning fork across the sky and listened to the thunder roll over the valley.

Funny that she would miss something like that. Rarity remembered that whenever Ponyville had been subject to a surprise deluge she had only ever complained. She distinctly recalled swearing revenge on Rainbow Dash one time when a last-minute rain shower had forced her to cancel a picnic. But somehow, it got to her that there was nothing like that here in Canterlot. There was just the mechanical rhythm of the twice-weekly shower scheduled late enough in the day to not catch anypony out of doors when the clouds broke.

Or most ponies, anyway. Rarity carefully sidestepped and danced around the puddles with a grace that came only from practice. It hadn't taken her very many trips across the dampened city to learn which cobbles between her shop and her apartment were safe high-ground and which ones would wobble and dump her in the mud.

Her contemporaries might have thought her dance through the wet streets an odd one, but none of them were outside to see her. The streets were deserted. They were all dry and safe in their homes, because everypony in Canterlot knew not to work late on a rain-day.

Rarity pushed open the door to her apartment complex, shaking off the cold and the few drops of rain that her umbrella had failed to ward off. She unfastened the umbrella and gave it a shake, flicking the moisture out of the front door before closing it.

A stallion in a well-pressed uniform smiled at her in greeting. “Evening, Miss Rarity,” he said.

Rarity smiled back at the door-pony, wiping her hooves on the welcome mat. “Good evening, darling. I hope I didn't keep you out in the rain.”

He shook his head. “I've learned better than to wait outside for you on a Tuesday. Oh, that reminds me.” The door-pony drew a tan envelope from the breast pocket of his uniform. “You got a letter in the mail today.”

Rarity took the envelope in her telekinetic grasp. “Thank you, dear. You didn't need to hold onto it for me.”

The stallion shook his head. “It was going to get wet in the rain, ma'am. Besides, it's the least I can do after the work you put into my uniform.”

Rarity took a glance at the return address on the envelope. Ponyville. She gave the stallion a grateful smile. “Well, thank you nevertheless. I think I'll go have a look at this up in my apartment.”

“Of course. If you need anything, you know where to find me.” The door-pony straightened into a crisp posture and retook his position by the door.

The stairs creaked quietly beneath Rarity's hooves as she climbed them up to her third-story apartment. The constant shush of the rain outside seemed to soften all other noise. She could hear muted sounds of plates clinking and pleasantries being exchanged as her neighbors had dinner. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she had once again neglected to eat anything since breakfast this morning. She resolved to fix herself a spinach casserole in order to solve this problem.

The door to her apartment swung open noiselessly. Rarity let out a soft sigh as she hung her umbrella on its hook by the door, set her saddlebags on the table to sort out later, and headed into the kitchen to start work on dinner.

The gray clouds outside rumbled and the rain pattered softly against her window pane as Rarity took a knife to the vegetables. She filled a pot with water and set it to heat on the stove top. Another minute had her rinsing and straining the spinach. A couple eggs. Salt and pepper. She knew the recipe by heart, and making it was automatic for her.

Once things were set to boil, Rarity returned to the table. The envelope lay atop the pile of things to be sorted and put in their place. She took one more glance at the bubbling pot on the stove before seizing the letter in a magical blue glow.

The letter slid easily out of the envelope. Rarity sat down and began reading.

Dear Rarity,

It's springtime in Ponyville. I can tell because Dash and the weatherponies ended up having to cook up another thunderstorm. It's the third one since Winter Wrap-up, and sometimes I wonder if that mare just forgets the regular rain schedule on purpose so she can watch the thunderbolts go off. Anyhow, I'm sitting here in the barn listening to the rain beat on the door, and it's got me thinking about that night with you and Twi. I don't say it often, but I'm glad I got caught out in the rain just that once. We had some times then.

Geez, you're both up in Canterlot now, aren't you? And this is Dash's last spring with the weather team before she heads off on her first tour with the Wonderbolts. Sometimes it feels like I'm gonna be the only mare left in Ponyville before too long. Don't you worry, though. Pinkie, Shy and I'll keep this place in order for you. You'll be dropping by for the Summer Sun Celebration, right?

A.B. and your sis are getting along just fine. I know there was a bit of uneasiness when Sweetie got her mark before Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, but last week the two of them helped her set up for a performance. Wish you could've heard her, Rarity. She sang in front of the whole town, and I wouldn't be honest if I said it didn't bring a tear to my eye.

This storm could've come at a better time. I got a grove of saplings that aren't going to like all this wind none, and I can't fix the roof on this barn till it clears up a little. But hay, you don't need to hear about my problems. I guess I'm glad it's given me the time to sit down and put some ink on a letter for you.

Anyway, this rain'll probably have let up by the time this gets to you. I just wanted to let you know that I'm thinking of you. We're all thinking of you, and Twi. I hope Canterlot is treating you all right.

—Sincerely yours, Applejack.

Rarity let the letter drift back to the table. The smell of cooked spinach wafted to her from the kitchen as she watched the water run in rivulets down her window. She took a deep breath, and folded her forehooves in front of her muzzle on the table.

And then it began raining in earnest.

Author's Note:

The first of my Thirty Minute Ponies entries to get edited and expanded into a full standalone story. The prompt was "Sudden spring storms."

Find more in my compilation here.

Comments

[KitsuneRisu]

Rather nice, little expanded thing of that one thing you already did.

Padded out quite nicely, though.

Should this not be also tagged Slice of Life, though? It gave me that vibe, indeed.

I like the allusion to rain. It does set a nice parallel, especially there at the end. It's a small, quick read, but a rather feel-good one. I oddly don't find it sad at all, rather than... melancholic.

Well!

Here, for you:

trialx.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/recipes/Easy_Spinach_Casserole-1.jpg

[JetstreamGW]

It's good. But... I dunno, I was kinda hoping you'd expand on something with a little more pep to it.

This isn't sad, really, just kind of a moderate downer.

[Esle Ynopemos]

2757765 Mmh, maybe [Slice of Life] is called for here. The [Sad] tag by itself is a little misleading; I suspect some folks came in expecting some kind of major tear-jerker or something. But for obvious reasons, there is no [A Little Bit Melancholic, But Nothing Big] tag.

2759050 Have you got any recommendations on what you think I should expand on next? This one clearly didn't do as well as I hoped.

[JetstreamGW]

2764524 Hell, dunno. I'd have to re-read some of them. Not happening tonight. I'll try to remember that for later...

[HoofBitingActionOverload]

I haven't been following your thirty minute pony prompts, so I don't know what the difference between this and the original is, what has been expanded or added, or whether this is any improvement.

But I can say that on its own, this is a very good little slice of life short. You've captured the feeling of missing home perfectly. It's always those little things about where you grew up, the little things you never notice until you've lived somewhere else for an extended period of time, that make reminiscing about home feel so glum. And once again, you captured that feeling perfectly. Using the rain as the centerpiece was a small stroke of brilliance, and it's a clever take on the prompt.

Now, I only have one real criticism, and it's a missed opportunity more than anything else. Every place you'll ever live has those little things that make it special, both home and where you move to. If you wished to expand this some, you could have explored that direction. You've shown us what Rarity has lost in moving to Canterlot, but what has she gained? What are those little things about Canterlot that she misses when she leaves? It would be a more interesting story if Rarity was both happy and unhappy about her home in Canterlot, and it would make this feel significantly less one-sided.

[Esle Ynopemos]

2789415 That is actually a very good insight, and something I hadn't thought of. This would sit easier in its Slice of Life category and be an overall more pleasant thing to read if there was some kind of counterpoint to it to show that Rarity wasn't depressed and homesick all the time she's in Canterlot.

[PoweredByTea]

Randomly wandered in here, I think from Cloudy's page. This is certainly under appreciated. The only slightly jarring thing to me was the coincidence that Rartiy was already thinking about the rain, and then she gets a letter from AJ that also talks about the rain. Applejack ended up feeling a bit psychic. However, for a 30 minute prompt, this was very well done.

[Esle Ynopemos]

2962350 Well, it's springtime, so it would be raining a lot, so it's not that far-fetched of a coincidence they would both happen to be thinking about rain.

I'm glad you liked it, though. Thanks for the random wandering!

[Periphery]

Hey neat, that was a surprise. I wasn't sure who wrote this story or what it was called, so I did a Google search for "Rarity Rain Canterlot site:fimfiction.net" and this was the very first result. I thought I'd have to dig through pages of results to find it. Although, I actually wondered if it might've been by you, so I should have just checked that first.

Anyway, I've occasionally thought of this story ever since I first read it (probably when it was brand new), so I can't believe I never commented on this, and I'm glad I found it again. Not only was Rarity's homesickness very relatable, but I couldn't help but see a second meaning in it, more about life in general. People seem to like everything to be more predictable and more controlled, but at what point are you losing something by removing that element of unpredictability?