And It Was Beautiful
One day, he gave her a rose.
Roses were not anything special. She had roses, she grew roses, she knew roses, but something was different here. Something very odd in this rose that had been given to her. It was a wild rose. He was not a wild pony, so it wasn’t any sort of symbolism; she supposed it was just so that he wouldn’t have to go and give her roses she had grown herself.
He was an earth pony. She was an earth pony too, which is why she suspected she was so darn good at growing roses, beautiful ones of red and white and yellow and green and black and almost any color that you could dare imagine; small ones perfect for tiny baby foals to grasp in their mouth and seem of normal size, and large ones that towered overhead, small trees of flowers with thorns that could be made a sword, and pollen only to be collected by the largest of bees. It was her talent.
He was a candy maker. He made candies with another earth pony, the two of them busing themselves to help supply the bakery and sweet shop in town where yet another earth pony would enjoy sampling a few herself before gleefully selling them to her customers. Well, he was a candy maker most of the time, anyway. A lot of the time he was in a building, very professional looking with an air of pervading sadness that was draped over the entire place. Many who entered came out, feeling fine, but some did not, and that made all the difference.
He had a sick father. Had, is the keyword here, for the father was most certainly no more. Ages and ages ago, she remembered the day he came to school as a young foal, his eyes vacant and glazed, his expression hollow. She remembered how she wanted to help him, wanted to hug him, wanted to let her empathy hold him. But she didn’t act, and that time was over now.
They were friends. Good friends, in fact, for a few weeks after that hollow day, they had begun to gravitate towards each other, seeking out solace during the lunch hour, and eventually moving to seeing each other after school. They talked, but not all at once. Often they would be silent, walking about the woods, staring into the Everfree Forest, admiring the pristine look of Canterlot Mountain looming over their town, and indeed, nearly all of Equestria. When they did talk, however, it was hard for them to stop. They mulled over events in school, events they hoped would occur in their lives, and even sometimes tackled bigger, more abstract questions.
He lived with a different family. He once lived in a small, two story cottage that was quite beautiful, but for a while he lived with a family of earth ponies who ran an orchard and several other farm-related facilities. Sometimes the two would gaze longingly at the house that Caramel once lived in, often losing hours of the afternoon looking upon it; nopony lived there now, so the two would be able to observe it undisturbed. They would never speak while they were watching the house. They would stare at the house for a seemingly endless time, before eventually leaving to do other things.
He was an artist. He drew little sketches to pass the time, sometimes little cartoons to amuse himself. Over time, he got very good, progressing from the terrible chicken scratch that he once produced. She loved his art; whether it be funny, interesting, or just plain beautiful, his art was always fun to look at. He did not think highly of the sketches he did, but she loved it.
He sang too, and this was not something he was particularly good at. She herself could not figure out why she couldn’t get enough of his voice. Maybe it was a novelty to her; certainly, it wasn’t bad, but it could hardly be called good, either. It was distinctive, that was for certain, and she decided that was probably the reason why she was so enticed with it.
She was in love. Not with him, of course, she didn’t like stallions. No, she found mares to be far more attractive, stallions simply did not do it for her, or else she suspected she would have fallen for him years ago. Many years after she first befriended him, she found her own love. This divided her time between the two ponies she loved to be around. He didn’t seem to mind too much, but after a while he started acting a bit... odder than usual. He seemed to take care of himself a bit more, jump to help her out with things he usually never did (mostly running the counter at her rose and garden shop, he wasn’t very sociable so he often shied away from things that would require coming in contact with strange ponies), and in general seemed... changed.
She didn’t just grow roses. She had a massive garden, one that she had brought with the money her mother gifted her right after she graduated. Almost instantly, she had bought up a nice large plot of land, and began terraforming the field into a massive ecosystem of different plants and flowers. Soon after, many a interesting species and assortment of wildlife began to populate her garden. The garden grew to a grove, and then to an arboretum. All the while, he was there helping her, clearing brush and pulling weeds, picking flowers and raking leaves, placing vines and planting seeds, cleaning ponds and trimming trees, watering plants and fighting off giant bees.
He fell in love. Or, maybe he didn’t, she couldn’t tell. He didn’t look very happy with the unicorn he spent his time with. She wasn’t the nicest of ponies, and it hurt her a bit to see that he had to be subjected to her constantly. She wished quite often he would just up and leave her, as it is a terrible thing to see a friend slowly constricted by the tendrils of unhappiness.
She had other friends too. The candy maker who worked with him, the baker who was the candies were mostly sold to, the librarian who lived in the center of town with her dragon, the family who took him in and ran the farm, her special somepony of course, and her special somepony’s step-sister... she had many friends. He was different though. He was her first friend, her quiet friend, her musing friend, her singing friend, her artist friend... he was her best friend. She loved him, in the way that friends love one another.
She was happy, for the most part. She had great friends, a great best friend, a loving special somepony, a wonderful business, and a fluidly working life. Everything was close to perfect.
One day, that changed.
One day, she started to make sense of what was happening.
One day, he gave her a rose.
And it was beautiful.
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Damn. You killed my heart. This was wonderful. Recommending it to my friends right now.
This is a lovely story, Regidar! You are a wonderful writer.
Beautiful.
;_; regi it's beautiful
That was really nice.
Thank you for bringing out my feels. I haven't cried since I watched Titanic last month.
I can't favorite this enough.
Fix this, Knighty.
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Usually, fics can't get away with having zero dialogue.
This is one of the few exceptions, perhaps.
Deserves upvote. Kepp up the good work.
This...all of this...every last goddamed comma, period, and space needs to be featured and loved 5ever
Yeah, damn. That was some craziness, man. I cried manly tears.
Just thought I'd point this out, btw.
3242866
Hold me
Aww...
Very nice, Regi.
This deserves to be Featured.
3242845 Thank you very much! I am inclined to the same about you!
3242880 That is the manliest comment I have ever received.
3242908 I shall kepp it up as best I can.
3242950
3243039 Such a flatterer you are! Grazie my dear
That was rather cute, and I enjoyed it.
I shed a manly tear. A single one.
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Impressive, dude, very impressive.
~Skeeter The Lurker
Yes. ALL of my yes.
Dude...
I don't know how to feel about that.
But one thing I know for sure, is that this story was beautiful.
Damn....
I just...Damn....
I've read few endings that left me wanting more, and those were certainly longer than 1,200 words
Damn, Regi.
Well done good sir... well done...
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Wow. This was beautiful. Thank you so much for making something so lovely.
Wow. Just ... wow. I'm going to have to rearrange my favorite fics module for this one.
Why don't you always write this stuff, Regi?
3243310 Not at all a problem!
3243313 I'm never sad enough.
I like it.
That was amazing.
3243424 Thank you!
I liked it, but I feel it could have been more - then again it feels as if it were supposed to be short. I didn't cry, I'm not really a man of emotion but... it got me in the heart, I really felt it.
Nice job, man.
I am somewhat fearful to comment, but oh well.
I enjoyed this. It is simple, elegant and thought-provoking. Exactly what you intended, perhaps?
Excellent work, dear Author.
3243342
Well, that's a good thing, I suppose.
3243039 it reeked of so much manliness I had go shower... with old spice.
; /\ ;
all my feels
D'aww
Well done you adorable weirdo.
3244302
.......
....nice!!!!!
This was beautiful. So poetic. It's nice to see you write a real story for a change.
Hmm, I wonder where the bases of this story came from. But good story anyway.
3245505 You know, as opposed to the other 20 "real" stories I have written, most of them in this past month.
3245607 Hehe. Yea, those.
Wow... Can't think anything better to say. It was very profound.
beautiful regi, just beautiful.
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...Goddamn that was amazing.
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I hate to be that one in a million but... I feel I've somehow had this fic go over my head. I've read it, re-read it, three-re-read it, but I can't seem to understand why the end is significant, what it meant. Help please? Just what happened?
3316642 It's sentiment. It's a very hit-and-miss subject. I don't blame you for not getting it, and honesty, I'm surprised so many people did.
3318000
Ah. By my tenth re-reading I kind of got somewhere close to that understanding but I'm a bit sad that I haven't really understood it the way a lot of people seem to have.
Still, beautiful writing, and I can see that it could be very touching indeed, there's a lot in there. :P