A Study In Nonsense

by Professor Piggy

Lover Dearest

Most ponies hated it, but Rarity had long held the belief that there were very few problems that could not be solved by applying the right amount of drama in just the right way. Sometimes, that meant crying on the right pony’s shoulders at just the right moment. Sometimes it meant stomping her hooves on the ground, abandoning all pretense of dignity, and screaming at everyone in the vicinity until she got her way. And sometimes it meant pretending to be angrier than you were so that the pony who had made you angry in the first place would give you chocolates and backrubs and then you could pretend that you were only pretending to be as angry as you were pretending to be and were not, in fact, prone to genuine and silly overreaction.

It was a belief that had served her well all her life – drama was a wonderous tool, and it made life ever so much more fun than it would otherwise be. The problem was that it was also a very dangerous tool, and one that could – in the hands of those ponies less naturally gifted and less practised than herself – cause a tremendous amount of harm. And, as sad as it was, the number of ponies who could match her knack for drama could be counted on one hoof – herself.

Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie were fighting again. They hadn’t said as much, but as she sat across the table from them, taking note of their every gesture and expression, it was easy to tell. They were, after all, both extremely dramatic ponies – though of remarkably different stripes. Pinkie was a pony of deliberate drama. She reveled in it, seeking it out deliberately by way of dramatic entrances, explosions and whatever other loud and exclamatory things she could get her hands on. But though she was naturally inclined to drama, she was not naturally dramatic. And the way she was acting at that moment was the perfect example.

Pinkie was smiling as she ran a hoof through Fluttershy’s mane – not the huge, beaming grin that was usually afixed to her face like some kind of animate welcome mat, but a small timid thing. Every now and again she would glance around, and the few times Rarity had caught her eyes they had been sad and frightened. But apart from her expression and the words she kept whispering to her beloved Pegasus, Ponyville’s beloved party pony had been at the top of her game all night. Drinks were topped up, dances were danced, songs were sang and hearts were gladdened – but not Pinkie’s heart, which Rarity had been watching sink farther and farther as the hours wore on, the crowd thinned out, and the pink pony finally realised she had done something very wrong.

It was a subtle thing, but to the ponies that knew her it spoke volumes. And if Pinkie’s behaviour had been a warning sign, Fluttershy’s was a siren screaming out to all in earshot that something was wrong. She sat, tense and straight, with her back to Pinkie and her head lowered to stare at the ground. Her face was set in a worried, weary frown, and her eyes were half closed. Whenever Pinkie removed a hoof, however briefly, she would loosen up and let out a soft sigh – then freeze again as soon as it came back. If Pinkie Pie was a subtle pony who loved drama, Fluttershy was a dramatic pony who absolutely detested drama – but who simply didn’t have the ability to hide the emotions Pinkie Pie evoked in her, and ended up wearing them on her sleeve.

In many cases, Rarity would have thought that best. But Pinkie was perhaps the one pony in Equestria who could look at a stick of dynamite and not notice that the fuse had been lit. Fluttershy had once told Rarity that she hated Pinkie for that – almost as much as she loved her for never giving up.

Pinkie leaned close, and whispered something else in Fluttershy’s ear – perhaps an apology, or sweet nothings. Whatever it was, it bought Fluttershy to her hooves and sent her stomping slowly towards the door, leaving Pinkie to blink in stunned silent before chasing after her. Rarity almost wanted to stop her – to tell her that Fluttershy needed time, and forgiveness would come. But in truth, she was getting less sure each time this happened that it would. Or that it should. And Fluttershy had asked her not to interfere.

As the door slammed shut behind Pinkie Pie, Rarity sighed and lifted her drink to her lips. A drink would, perhaps, take the edge off. And if not, Applejack would be around somewhere – she was sure the other pony would forgive her, if she decided that she needed to get in a fight. Eventually.

Author's Note:

The Prompt: Forgiveness is never easy.

Special rules (Choose either A or B. You do not have to do both, but you do have to do one.):

A: Your story must be completely devoid of dialogue and monologue.

B: What needs to be forgiven cannot be mentioned in the story at all.

Comments

[TheAlmightySage]

Oh that's a clever one.

[MrNumbers]

They say you always hurt the ones you love the most...

I'm referring to you, Piggy. What, just because Raridash is your new OTP you feel fine just tearing this one apart? You heartless bastard!

[Professor Piggy]

2764650 Oh. Oh, Numbers, you poor poor soul. There's something I don't think you're grasping, here.

This wasn't the moment I stopped shipping FlutterPie for RariDash. This was the moment I realised I still loved FlutterPie best. I am not a nice Piggy, to the ships I love. I do terrible, terrible things to them. Because I need to know, Numbers. I need to know how much I can bend them before they break. RariDash isn't my OTP, right now - and I'm pretty sure it should be grateful for that.

So in conclusion: yes, I am a heartless bastard.