A Grating Tale

by Alcoremortis

Chapter 1

A Grating Tale

by Alec Moreto

With help from RingmasterJ5

The fields outside Sweet Apple Acres were beautiful at sunset. The way the red tint of the sun glanced off of the wild grasses gave the impression of an enormous, velvety carpet surrounding the regimented, pony-made rows of the apple trees. Almost as if nature itself were laying out a red carpet for civilization.

Or it made them look like a vast sea of blood, the occasional branch sticking up as a skeletal limb clawing its way towards the unforgiving sky. Some ponies had weird minds.

Of course, at this hour, there were precious few around to admire the sight. Most ponies had gone home by this time, to dinner, to relaxing, or maybe to one of Pinkie Pie’s famous parties.

But only most.

Seated at the fringe of the open space, rump firmly planted on the cold, dark earth surrounding the trees, hooves hanging listlessly over the edge of the small rift between the junction, was what seemed to be the only pony who’d opted to stay out this evening. A grey, with a somewhat stiff, uncombed mane that stuck out at the sides, and hooded eyes which always appeared to be half-closed, he sat, staring off at the gently rippling grasses. Maybe he was imagining the velvet carpet... or maybe it was the sea of blood that filled his gaze. Or maybe it was something diff--

“Grate? That you?” called a friendly, lightly accented voice.

Crap. Just when he’d been getting to the good part! He’d been about to get on with talking about his cutie mark and the possible significance thereof... oh, he’d better answer.

“Yes, Applejack?” he responded wearily. He really preferred to have his internal monologues in peace.

“Oh, good!” she chirped, plopping down next to him, “I was worried it might be some strangepony stopping by... an’ then where would my gentle sense of hospitality be?”

Of course. He should have known from the start it wouldn’t be about him. Long ago, he’d just accepted that he’d be the pony that everyone knew, but no one knew. Ack! And here he’d been, staring off and not paying attention while Applejack, practically the one-pony show, was sitting next to him.

“Well, ah, since you seem preoccupied, ah guess I’ll be going now,” Applejack said awkwardly, clambering to her hooves before making her way back through the orchard.

Grate watched her leave, not exactly knowing if he should say something before she vanished. Like... apologize? But for what? He could ask her to stay, but would that be too much of an imposition? Or should he just try to catch up to her and strike up a conversation?

Eventually, his indecision made his choice for him as she completely vanished in the direction of the town, leaving him alone once more.

Grate reflected that this might be one of the reasons he had no friends.

The sun had completely vanished except for a few vestiges of light peeking over the horizon and the red carpet he’d let his eyes linger on for so long was now a deep almost-black, like some giant maw opening to swallow...

He really need to stop thinking like that. He needed to do something, change something about himself, or he’d be Grate for the rest of his life, the pony that people invited to the party but never talked to once he’d arrived. He couldn’t even remember the last time anyone had called him by anything other than his last name.

Of course, with a name like Itchweed Nathaniel Grate, the last name moniker was actually preferable.

But it would have been nice to know that anyone still remembered it. Just once in a while.

As the last tendrils of light were slowly sucked away, Grate picked himself off, swished his tail to dust off his rump and lethargically headed back to Ponyville. It was, after all, getting late.

***

There was definitely something to be said for running a flower shop in a town that seemed to have a parties at the very least, bi-weekly. And that something was he never had an empty shop. He’d gotten rid of the bell over the door ages ago, as the incessant ringing was driving him mad. Following his initial success, in which Pinkie Pie had bought nearly his entire stock on the first day, he’d had more or less steady business for nearly two years.

He attributed it partly to the name of his shop: Grate Flowers. It was just memorable. After all, how could anypony forget when asked where they’d gotten those great flowers?

Today was no different, of course. He was on his hooves from opening until nearly an hour after closing, ringing up orders, wrapping bouquets, trying to convince old Mrs. Lakewafer to purchase another rosebush, and even devise a few arrangements on the side. He’d gotten fairly good at it over the past few years. The precise arrangement of flowers to create those small, temporary works of art had always fascinated him in a way ponies never could.

At least there was a rhythm to what made a good arrangement. And it was hopelessly apparent on the rare occasions when a certain concept just wasn’t working.

Like now.

After he’d closed up shop, Grate had decided to remain in the back room a little longer to try out some of the new ideas he’d come up with when he hadn’t been running from place to place. Though, to be perfectly honest, he hadn’t really expected this particular idea to... heh... blossom. It was too dead. He’d thought to capture a beautiful simplicity with the single lily surrounded by leafless twigs, but what he’d ended up looked like it would be too dark even to be used for a funeral service.

And one thing he knew about the ponies here was that they didn’t really like dark, especially in their flower arrangements.

He picked up the small vase and carried it out the back entrance to his discard compost pile. But right as he was about to toss the lot, Grate hesitated. It might be too dead, but it was a pretty arrangement. Maybe with a few more lilies, perhaps a sprig or two of lavender, he could liven it up...

We may have years, we may have hours, but in the end, we push up flowers.

What the hell?! Grate nearly dropped the vase in surprise, catching it only by the tip of his hoof. Where had that come from? He was a florist, for Celestia’s sake, not a crypt-keeper! He always tried to find the beauty in nature, not... whatever that was.

“A-are you feeling all right?” came the soft, hesitant voice of his what he recognized as his second-best customer.

Fluttershy.

Grate suddenly realized he was standing stock still, in the small pool of light from his open back doorway, clutching a vase of mostly dead plants.

Slowly, trying to look natural, he relaxed, gently placing the offending arrangement on the ground as he turned to face her. He’d always liked Fluttershy. She never really seemed to expect a lot of conversation, which suited him just fine.

“I’m okay,” he said vaguely, not really wanting to bring attention to his moment of... whatever.

“Is there something I could help you with?” he asked, hoping to divert the conversation to something neutral.

Fluttershy perked up, her big turquoise eyes positively gleaming, “Oh yes!” she exclaimed in her whispery voice.

“I was just making a daisy chain for Applebloom, but I ran out of daisies! Do you think...”

“Uh, well, I’m kinda closed,” he started.

“But for my favorite customer, I’ll make an exception. Go on,”--he gestured toward the doorway--“take what you’d like. It’s on the house.”

“Oh, thank you,” she gushed, before trotting past him through the door.

After she’d vanished into his shop, he glared at the small arrangement at his feet. It really was too dead. That’s what he had started that feeling back there. He just needed to get rid of it and that would be it.

Vigorously, he pulled the twigs out of the mossy “frog” he’d been using to support them, snapping each one before tossing it into the rubbish heap until only the lily was left. It really was quite a pretty specimen. Almost a shame...

No.

Without so much as a second glance, he pulled out the offending flower, flung it on the ground and with a few stomps of his hoof, crushed the ivory petals into the dirt. With a small flick, the now-battered petals plopped on the top of the heap, looking for all Equestria like a delicate broken body...

Grate pushed the thought out of his mind and practically fled back into the warm glow of his shop, where Fluttershy had already acquired enough flowers to make chains for the whole of Ponyville.

Oh, Celestia, what had he just gotten himself into?

A/N: Love comments, suggestions, etc. There will be more canon characters introduced as the story progresses and they will summarily be added to the character count of the fic once it's been determined which ones will be most important to the story. If the chapters seem somewhat clunky, I apologize. This fic is actually meant to be an extremely long oneshot.

Comments

[Fallen Prime]

RingmasterJ5 told me about this. It came up while we were in the middle of a bit of riffing for F/F/T3K, so I thought I'd give it a shot. And I was not disappointed. This is setting up to be a great descent-into-madness story, I can tell. And I'm a sucker for descent-into-madness stories.