A Sleeping Rose
One
Admiral Biscuit
Even after months, I never quite got used to waking without an alarm. I'd always been a heavy sleeper, and had used my cell phone's ability to set multiple alarms to my advantage. Each had been a more annoying sound than the previous, and I'd even resorted to putting my phone face-down so I had to perform an additional step to shut it off.
Not that that was a flawless technique; it turned out that the human body can adapt to adversity pretty easily. More than once I'd had to rush in the morning to make it in on time, multiple alarms be damned.
But now that I was in Equestria, there were no cell phones. Alarm clocks, yes, but most ponies didn't care for them. Nothing, I'd noticed, got between a pony and her sleep.
The only exception to this rule was Twilight Sparkle, and her nocturnal habits were the subject of much discussion among other ponies. Some said it was because she was a Canterlot Unicorn, and therefore not in touch with the earth; others felt that Princess Luna had somehow laid a curse on her as she defeated Nightmare Moon—and there were other ideas, as well, but those two were the most popular. Not surprisingly, she'd been the one that had found me an alarm clock, and it was proudly set on my dresser, just out of reach of my arm.
These days, it was never set, but I kept it just in case. Old habits are hard to get out of. Plus the stupid thing had set me back two days worth of bits, and that was really saying something. I could have bought a wagon-load of produce for what that damn alarm clock cost.
No, it wasn't an alarm clock that woke me. Fact is, I'm not sure what actually woke me. Based on past experience, it was probably either the town clock or one of the free-range roosters that wandered through town. Normally, I liked to keep an ear cocked to determine which it had been—roosters kept crowing, while the town clock chimed and then was done for a half-hour—but this morning I had more immediate concerns.
The first was that my left arm was asleep. I could feel a vague, tingling sensation in my fingers, but that was about it. More interesting was the scent of perfume which assaulted my nostrils.
It didn't take a genius to figure out that that perfume wasn't my own, nor did it take any real effort to locate the source of both of my issues: there was a pony asleep on my arm.
I assume she was asleep, anyway. She was breathing slowly and shallowly, which was quite easy to ascertain, as my right arm was draped across her.
For the longest time, I just lay there, trying to remember how this had come to pass.
• • •
“That's all of them,” Rose said, looking down the neat row of roses in her greenhouse. She'd taken a while to warm up to me: from the gossip I overheard, she was afraid that I'd eat her or her roses—and I'm not sure which she considered to be worse. Eventually, though, she'd warmed to me, based on no small part how useful other mares had found my hands. While it was undeniably true that earth ponies were quite capable with hooves and mouth, there were plenty of tasks which a pair of hands made short work of.
While they were willing to hire unicorns when needed, I'd learned that the farmers—broadly applied to any earth pony who primarily grew things—wouldn't let a unicorn near their crop unless they had no option. Interestingly, they had no objection to a dragon like Spike or . . . well, myself.
Rose had led me back into her house, but she hadn't counted out bits with which to pay me. That wasn't unusual; most of the ponies I'd worked for before had insisted on getting a meal in me first. They felt it was their obligation to serve anypony who happened to be in their home around a meal time. I didn't mind; it helped stretch my bits that much further, when I didn't have to buy my own food.
She looked at me critically once we were inside. “You're covered in sweat,” she observed. It was true; I was. Not that weeding the beds had been that difficult a task, but a full day in the sun had been tasking. On the other hand, I had a great tan.
“You can use my bath, if you want,” she offered. “While I make dinner.”
She eyed me critically. I've never considered myself that much to look at, but of course to the ponies I was a unique specimen, and even after months they still hadn't really gotten accustomed to me.
It didn't help that I always wore pants. I'd given up on shirts not long after I found myself in Ponyville . . . it turned out that while Rarity was more than willing to make clothes for a human, they didn't come cheap. I'd toyed with the idea of going around nude, but just couldn't quite bring myself to do it. They wouldn't have cared—in fact, I might have gotten fewer odd looks if I had, but too many years of mental conditioning made it uncomfortable.
I usually slept nude, though. No point in wearing clothes to bed, especially in a world without washing machines. My grandmother would have been proud at how adept I'd gotten at the washboard.
“The tub's probably a little too small for you,” she said apologetically, “so if you want to wait until you get home, I understand.” Rose slid a hoof awkwardly across the floor. “Uh, what do you like to eat for dinner? Sam.”
She mangled the pronunciation of my name, but I'd come to expect that. It was just as well that I'd first introduced myself by a nickname, rather than give the ponies my full name. Heaven only knows what they'd have butchered that to.
“I don't mind,” I said. The only tub in town that was comfortable for me was the one at the spa, and while I'd treated myself a few times, it was expensive if I wanted to reserve private time. For routine bathing, I usually just went to the stream under one of the more-remote bridges. Their soap was biodegradable, after all.
• • •
I'd emerged clean enough that my sweat-soaked shorts were a real psychological problem, but I'd be damned if I was going to go without until they dried. Rose had whipped up a salad and casserole while I was in the bath, and I spared no time in getting a plate and tearing into it.
Once the meal was done, I insisted on doing the dishes, while Rose bathed. That was no easy task; like any matriarch I'd known in my life, the kitchen was sacrosanct, and guests were Not To Touch anything therein. It was only when I convinced her that she was paying me to help that I won the battle.
“Before I pay you,” she said, “I wonder if you'd like to share a glass of wine?”
This was another part of the ritual. Nearly all the farmers brewed their own alcohol, with their crop as a primary ingredient. At first, I'd refused, but the sad looks on their faces as I turned down their pride and joy was heartbreaking. I'd learned that nearly any crop could be turned to alcohol with enough ingenuity, and Rose's rose wine was no exception. At first, the perfumy scent of her wine turned me off, but after one glass it had begun to grow on me, and I didn't refuse as she pressed a second glass into my hands, and then a third. Before too long, we were sitting in the living room—me, with my legs folded under me on the couch, her playing the part of perfect hostess.
It was well after dark when we finally finished going through all the different varieties of wine she had in her cellar, and my head was spinning.
“I ought to be going,” I mumbled, setting the empty wine glass down. “It's getting pretty late.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Hold on a minute; I've still got to pay you for your work.” She trotted out of the room, swaying slightly on her hooves, returning a minute later with a coin purse. “Let's see, ten hours at two bits per hour.” Her hoof moved slowly as she counted out the coins. I couldn't tell if that was because she was reluctant to part with so many bits, or if it was an effect of the alcohol. Maybe a combination of both—but judging by the size of her coin purse, twenty bits was hardly going to break her.
She watched with undisguised fascination as I put the bits in my pocket. I'd seen that before, too. First, pockets in pony pants are rare—and with good reason; they'd hardly be useful. Second, ponies hardly ever covered their hips. I had always assumed that it was because they didn't want to cover their cutie marks, but I'd never asked anypony. Still, the fact that I always wore pants had led to all sorts of curiosity about what my cutie mark—if I had one at all—was, and any time I drew attention to that part of my body, it drew pony eyes like iron to a magnet.
“I—“ I began
“It's raining,” Rose said quietly. “Pretty hard, too.”
I looked out the window, but of course didn't see anything, since it was dark. I mentally kicked myself anyway. I'd looked at the weather schedule in the paper, but of course I had made the very human assumption that the weather report was possibility, not certainty. You'd think that after half a year in Equestria I'd have figured it out, but nope.
“You can,” she began, and then bit her lip. “Stay here,” she finally decided. “Ah, if you want. I know your house is all the way across town, and I'd hate for you to get wet and ruin your clothes.”
I didn't want to ruin my clothes, either, but I knew a little rain wouldn't do it. Still, not having to walk home after dark in the rain would be nice.
“That's awfully generous of you,” I said. Already I was sizing up the couch, and coming up a few feet short. I could maybe rest my head on one end, and hang my feet of the other, and it wouldn't be too uncomfortable. I started to move toward it, and Rose caught the motion.
“We can . . . share. I've got a big enough bed,” she said, and her cheeks were slightly red. “I don't mind.”
Up all night to get Roselucky.
SO. MUCH. ITALICS.
But good beginning anyway. Very... oh, what's the word. Slow, and gradual, I guess. Leisurely, perhaps. In a good way. Like an old man recanting a detailed memory. It takes its time, without being fluffy.
Hey. Weren't you supposed to be busy this week?
This is new. Only human in Equestria and Rarity doesn't offer free clothes. Interesting
4758338
4758338
Typo corrected, thank you.
You'll have to wait and see, won't you?
4758422
I got the idea in my head yesterday morning, and figured I had to write it down.
Between work, the play, and getting ready for Bronycon, my brain's completely fried. I can't put the concentration in my other works that they deserve, but unwinding with a fresh new story (that wasn't even proofread) is kinda relaxing.
4759242
Hard to imagine a businessmare giving away her product. I could see her making one free outfit for Sam, but that's it. Said outfit is unlikely to be something that would be appropriate for day-to-day wear, especially if the human was doing lots of physical work.
Ahh, booze, the origional ryhypnol.
Pity Im intolerant of most of the ingrediants used, and have a weird reaction to alcohol.
Every Rose has its Thorn.
No romance tag? It looks like Rose has a crush on Sam.
4759356 This is true. But, I could see her doing so at at least reduced costs since she likes being challenged. XD
4759356 True, at least to the extent of an entire wardrobe. Many HiE fics play it off as Rarity either wanting to hone her craft on a new body type, or taking a shot that said human will be notable enough to act as a walking billboard - particularly if there's any chance of Twilight or the Sisters whisking them off to Canterlot where they might be seen by Important Ponies.
Interesting, too, to note that devices like alarm clocks are still largely going to be handcrafted (so to speak) items requiring fairly extensive labor to create all the myriad pieces. Equestria doesn't seem to have mass production for consumer items, so such complex and intricate things are going to be incredibly expensive, particularly if they're not simply an enchantment. It's a nice little bit of economic/industrial detail.
Found it! ;p
It's always fun when the mare is the one making all the moves. It's almost like she planned this....
Actually, I think ponies do have washing machines... Doesn't Rarity have one, and a dryer too?
I hear ya. I used to have my alarm clock literally across the room. I just stumbled out of bed, switched it off, stumbled back and disappeared under the covers again. Especially in winter, because, getting out was cold!
Hah! That's some professional pride
Why, just the thought! These are delicate fabrics! You can't let those get brutalized by some machine!
I don't care if he's not a pony. I need my George Takei smiley here
I kinda agree with theRedBrony on the italics... you can perfectly indicate a flashback without them, especially if it's the largest part of the chapter
5776404
I don't remember ever seeing one in canon, but I might be wrong. If she does, she's likely the only pony in Ponyville who has one--nopony else wears clothes often enough to justify the purchase.
5777335
I have the same problem.
Even if washing machines do turn out to be canon, I think this is exactly how Rarity would feel about them.
I probably should have.
In the words of the great George Takei... Oh My!
I'm so glad I'm finally getting to this. It spawned a new idea for a part in my story later... well more of an slight modification/addition to already planned stuff. Still though, ♫IDEA!♫.
5777335
I've managed to train myself to hit the snooze button (set for 2 min.) instead of the off button.
6500386
The snooze button is a deadly trap if you're too sleepy to be aware of whether you already pushed it before or not
6500386
6500745
I run two sets of alarms, with snoozes of different durations. That's been working pretty well for me.
Once upon a time, my alarm clock was only a desk lamp on a timer, but sadly those days have long since passed.
After having to wake up at around 5:30 AM for over 12 years...I'm accustomed to it...Sometimes I wake up without the alarm thingy of my phone.
4758338 img.memegenerator.io/meme/150303/q3gnoq.jpg
oh god
7527724
Luna's starry locks, it's like you know me...
I do all of this, plus a dual alarm clock with an annoying screech that gets louder over time.
God, this is me so much.
Now i sleep on the top bunk of a loft bed with my alarm across the room. Hopefully i don't learn to sleep-ladder both ways anytime soon.
8785086
Me, as well. And Daylight Saving Time is coming up, which is going to make mornings even worse.
I'm not willing to go that far. I'd probably fall out of the bunk (although I suppose that would wake me up)
Ba dum tish.
9511740
Ditch the snooze button, download "walk up" or "walk me up" depending on if you're on iPhone or Android. It's an alarm that requires you to get up and walk to turn it off. Snoozing only makes it worse.
9520105
I currently rely on three different cell phones with five alarms each. That tends to work for me; figuring out which one is going off is part of the exercise.
8785993
Yeah well try waking up IN THE FREAKING SHOWER... Somehow I once managed to get out of bed and get all the way to my shower, turn it on, AND get into it without waking up, it wasn't until the ICE COLD water touched me that I woke up with a start and asked myself ''How the fudge did I get in here?'' And yes I woke up standing up... which was really weird <.<;;
9569588
Its possible to be so barely awake you aren't even conscious of what you are doing till you actually end up in a situation like that.
9569588
I haven’t managed that level of sleep yet, but I did one time sleep-write. And even sent the finished product to my pre-readers. It didn’t make a lot of sense.
9571875
I’ve been there before. Fell asleep at a traffic light one time, and the next thing I knew it was green, so I went. I have no idea if that was the next cycle of the light, or several cycles later.
I’ve also sleep-written before (that turned out rather odd, to say the least), and I’ve had more than one occasion where I’ve been conscious enough to toss environmental elements into my dream, including dialogue--which only made sense when I woke up.
So adorable! ^3^
This. This is why I rotate through my song playlist
So annoying.
11038162
I just use a lot of alarms and hope for the best. So far it’s only failed me once.
And I do have the advantage that work is close (five minutes) and since I work a blue collar job, I can show up looking like what the cat dragged out and it’s okay. Pretty sure I forgot deodorant this morning . . . got to bed kinda late, woke up kinda late, you know how it goes.
11038450
I’ve got a setup where the first alarm goes off playing fairly gentle music that gets louder over time.
The second alarm tune 15 minutes later starts middling and then goes metal.
The third alarm isn’t a song. It’s an alert klaxon (think of what you’d hear when the Galactica goes to GQ) that tells me, “okay, we tried the nice way, but if the other two didn’t get you up, you really have to move now.
Then I have a backup tune set to go off 20 minutes before I need to be out the door to make it to work on time, which can wake me from a zombie fugue if I’ve started to doze off again on my feet partway through getting ready, and I know I can snooze it twice and as long as I’m heading for the door when it hits for the third time, I’m on time.
Now that my schedule finally has regular days off again instead of godawful rotating days off, I can even have them disabled for days I can sleep in. Small luxuries, hay?
Probably a good thing I’m always sleeping alone, really. Anyone sharing my bed would hate me before every sunrise.
Good story so far. It was unfortunate that this and the rest of the series was sitting in one of my bookshelves since the beginning of the kung flu.