You'd Think It Would Be Self-Evidentiary
Perhaps there were ways in which all contented homes were the same.
Fleur wasn't entirely sure. Her experience with such households was... decidedly limited, and had become even more restricted after she'd chosen her profession. It was usually safe to say that if somepony was hiring an escort, then you weren't going to meet them for the first time in front of their spouse and children. Those who had only pretended to swear eternal loyalty tended to greet their paid companion for the evening within viewing distance of the actual party (or more often, hotel), at least once you compensated for the sight angles available from the poorly-chosen alleyway. Fleur could typically detect somepony who was trying to cheat on their legally-intended from six body lengths away: this went to fifteen in the presence of those who hadn't quite worked out how to apply fur dye yet, and were mere hours from realizing they weren't going to be able to wash it all out before they got home.
(An escort who'd picked up on a cheater had the right to silently refund the hiring fee and trot away. Fleur usually wound up having to make a judgment call: after all, any attempt at blackmailing somepony for paid infidelities could lead to a rather obvious primary suspect.)
She usually didn't get into family dwellings. (Parents who welcomed their children into adulthood through hiring an escort to guide them across the final gate were the stuff of dubious legend and anyway, if they'd somehow told themselves that they both cared that much and the hiring was actually the right thing to do, they should at least let the gift recipient choose their own escort.) And she wasn't going to be in this one for more than a few minutes because while Fleur still felt that Applejack had a little trust in her, she also expected the farmer to have hit the plunger on an internal stopwatch at the moment hoofticured keratin had crossed the threshold. The unicorn had been given exacting directions to the ground-floor restroom. There was a limited amount of time she could spend within the residence before Applejack would decide that Fleur had been in there too long: after that, the earth pony would come inside. Sudden illness would be an acceptable excuse, although it was one which required some backup evidence. Trying to reach the back of the most interesting-seeming drawers was not.
It meant Fleur didn't have much time. But that was something she was used to: once you accepted that all temporal resources were ultimately limited, you started to figure out the most efficient ways to divide them up. And when it came to moving through somepony's home... it was amazing how much you could learn from a simple trip to the restroom. Getting to start her unsupervised journey from the front door was a bonus: most of Fleur's solo scouting missions had to launch from the bedroom.
In this case, she had no intention of conducting a full-scale search: there simply wasn't enough time, and the usual motivation was lacking. There was also one regrettable fact: she genuinely needed to use the restroom, and for more than just fixing her makeup. Tents lacked certain basics, and a road occupied by ponies made it rather difficult to slip into the woods unnoticed. (She'd slept through any need for that, too.) But this was only her second opportunity to be in the home of a Bearer. There had to be something worth learning, even if the information only came from a quick glance at the kitchen counter to see if any spice bottles were still out.
She was in Applejack's house: entry through the front door, moving through the sitting room. (Old furniture, the sort of things which were both well-loved and preserved because somepony else had already made a purchase, so why would anypony ever need to replace it?) A farmhouse, and perhaps there were also ways in which all of those resembled each other. Because there was something familiar about all of it, factors which kept trying accelerate her trot beyond what was strictly necessary.
Most of them came from the pictures.
Photography was a young science (and it was science, with film working strictly by chemical means), something which had come along in the generation prior to Fleur's. Prior to that, it had been paintings and sketchwork -- but there had always been ponies who wished to create some record of their existence, and a hoof-carved frame let Fleur locate the youthful oil-rendered mare in its center: the one who had fallen so that the elder with the bad hip could take her place.
She tried not to look at that one for too long. The grandmother had been attractive once, but... it was a rare pony who kept any vestige of their looks into the senior years. She didn't need the reminder that time was passing, and having it snatch away vitality and the best of her was seen by so many as the best-case scenario --
-- but there were other pictures. Photographs now, because the years had gotten around to that. And she looked at the sturdy stallion whose son so resembled him in build, the smiling mare with the sort of naturally-unruly disheveled manefall which usually required hours of cosmetics to simulate: ponies going for that just-tumbled-out-of-bed look. Discoloration to the wallpaper told her that the images had been shifted from their original positions: glints of Sun off protective glass said frozen eyes had been shifted to forever gaze through the largest window. The best vista available for regarding a lost world, given to those who could no longer see.
Fluttershy had told her that a friend had lost both parents at the same time. Fleur had no need to ask who it had been.
There were other clues, of course. Pictures taken at what appeared to be family reunions (and Fleur made an additional note about being careful around the farmer, because there were a lot of ponies who might seek revenge) over a number of years, held at different sites. Here's the father as a colt, near the center of the huge cluster, and can't you just see the strength coming in? Now the mare and a newborn foal sleeping through it all, almost lost in the saddlebag on her right flank. The foal gets older, then there's a filly, the parents are aging but doing so with some dignity, one more birth and then --
-- it's two children, somepony who was forced to be a stallion a little ahead of time, and a grandparent. And that's the most there will ever be.
She kept moving. Pictures of the children together. The youngest alone. Towards what seemed to be the end of the temporal sequence, she began to spot images of the three filly friends, most of which possessed the sort of edge blur which suggested both an old camera and an inability to stay still long enough for a good shot. The very last pictures seemed to have Apple Bloom and Scootaloo as a pairing more than they included Sweetie: she took this as an indication for who might have been operating the camera.
Just about every picture featured smiles, although a few of them were hard to make out through obscuring tree sap.
The restroom on the ground floor was clearly meant as an emergency backup for those who either couldn't get upstairs in time or had to deal with the fact that if you needed the trench in a five-pony household, then somepony else probably did too. The little internal river was kept clean, there was a splashing trough available, and an old wooden medicine chest held -- she checked for tricks like tail hairs taped across the front before risking a look -- liniment, poultices, and painkillers: all meant for a senior whose worst days meant not being able to get up the ramp without them. But the mirror was mostly there as a means of making sure you were clean, and any cosmetic supplies were presumably on the upper level.
There was a little magazine shelf mounted on the wall in front of the trench, hosting articles for those who occasionally liked to get through such things two paragraphs at a time. The current subject was tenant relations, and the corner next to the part about relating to stubborn cattle had been bitten with somewhat more force than was strictly necessary.
Fleur ignored the text. Cattle were capable of thought, at least to the degree which allowed them to be tricked. When it came to a farm which hosted the living, nothing within the article would ever apply to any part of her life.
She wasn't sure the farmer knew how much time it took to fully restore cosmetics: Applejack didn't seem to use very many (although on a day spent around cider, that was understandable). Proper effort didn't leave Fleur with a chance to do more than glance in the kitchen, and that just let her discover the sort of work ethic which insisted that everything used in making the previous meal had to be cleaned and put away before considering the next one. (It did make her briefly question just how devoted the family was to keeping old furniture: one edge of the dining table was missing a large chunk of wood.) And then there was no time to try for the bedrooms, open any closets, or even check the spice cabinets because there were windows and somepony could potentially glance backwards at any time. All she could do was go outside.
Perhaps there were ways in which all contented homes were the same. She wasn't sure. The opportunities to investigate seldom came along. But there always seemed to be pictures of those who were happy. Smiling, or -- something which substituted, because it was as close as the resident could ever come.
Pictures. The ways in which pictures were hung...
There were ways in which they were all the same, and it was that which chased her out the door.
She cleared the exit in time to spot the very end of what had appeared to be a very hurried three-way conversation between her charge, Applejack, and Pinkie -- but Fleur didn't get close enough to hear any of it before the baker hitched herself back up to a cart and towed her purchase back towards town. The librarian wasn't in sight yet, and Fleur had been in Ponyville long enough to know that the weather coordinator frequently responded to being woken up for breakfast through remaining awake just long enough to finish most of it: any plate then had a chance to be pressed into service as an emergency pillow.
They stayed for a little while, largely because Fleur was still trying to figure out what was so special about cider. It was something which required further investigation, along with extra mugs. At least sex had the potential for orgasms. Cider mostly had the potential for cloves. And ginger. She hadn't worked out how much ginger was being used, and recognizing when might be essential. Extra mugs had become mandatory.
However, the line which stretched out behind them (reaching a quarter of the way to Ponyville, or possibly a sixth) contained a number of those who were immune to Fleur's charms and, just about as much to the point, had been waiting overnight for cider.
Fleur, who was rather good at reading the room (or in this case, the road), quickly registered the swell of muttering and had an extra barrel sent to the cottage. (It would have been her rental, but it seemed that non-refrigerated cider had a fairly short shelf life and she hadn't bothered to purchase any coolers.) And she would have considered staying beyond that, learning what the line had to offer under Sun --
-- but the mares were back on the road, because there would always be something at the cottage which wanted Fluttershy's attention and during those times when such needs were being met, a crisis would probably be getting ready to cross the bridge.
It was a quiet trip. Fleur had rather reasonably expected it to be: she was traveling with her charge, and that usually meant conversations began at 'intermittent' and had the frequency drop rapidly from there. But it was also a cold one: autumn crispness returned almost at the instant they got away from the line. A chill breeze whipped through swaying branches, ones which seemed to have been on the receiving end of a very thorough Running. Sun was up and the sky was clear enough, but... it was the sort of light which just barely carried warmth within and at the moment before it would have reached her fur, the next gust stole the heat away.
If she listened, she could hear the sounds of life around them and the further they got from the farm, the more desperate that life became. Pony noises had been replaced by those of animals, and those were things which were emerging too fast. Squirrels raced along the branches, came down to ground level just long enough to verify there was nothing left to take before scurrying back to relative safety. A screech far overhead indicated the reason for such caution: a circling peregrine. Searching with increased urgency, because soon the squirrels would be spending more time in their hiding places and the hunt would become that much harder...
Autumn progressing, winter approaching. The world's resources were running out. You took what you could get when the opportunity offered itself, or you died. Fleur felt there had to be something in Fluttershy which understood that.
...it would have been helpful if there was also something in her charge which recognized how annoying it could be to take a trot this long with only the sound of squeaking cart wheels for company.
They both used Dr. Groomer's: the scent of cider had been left behind on the farm's road. However, the roll of tent which took up so much of Fluttershy's cart had somehow found a new and exciting source of stink to offer. Fleur's first guess was somepony having discovered that a roasted pepper breakfast and cider didn't mix. Or rather, only truly associated on the way out.
We've had multiple lessons on small talk.
Maybe she feels it's only for parties.
Or dates.
...maybe I can get all the way to the cottage without having to leave the path.
I shouldn't have had those last two mugs --
"...Fleur?"
White ears immediately perked, rotated left before the head finished turning.
The exposed blue-green eye was on the visible side now, with the mane showing no signs of a recent flip. The pegasus was openly looking at Fleur, and it seemed as if she might have been doing so for some time. It was a look which felt as if it came with a question --
"...do you like me?"
The unicorn tilted her head slightly to that side, ears cupping a little more. Waited for the rest, because nothing about the question was unusual to her. It was a query which escorts heard all the time. And when her profession served as the trigger, the initial had a near-mandatory followup.
"...because..." Her charge took a slow, uncertain breath: something which still let her move forward at a steady pace. "...I've been thinking about -- how you had to come here. How the Princess asked you to do this, as a job. And you came, but..."
Another breath. Feathers rustled at her sides, and the wheels squeaked.
"...that's the job. Every day, hour, minute... every second you're with me, it goes on an invoice. You're paid to be with me, the same way you get paid to be with..." The one visible eye briefly closed, opened again. "...everypony. And when you're an escort -- you have to make ponies feel that you like them, don't you? That you're there for them, or it would just be --"
A too-slow blink, and the snout dipped.
"-- hollow. You're good at getting ponies to like you. And you have to look like you might care about them, at least a little. All the time. You make them feel like they have a chance. Until they don't. Because the job always ends, and -- you go to another pony, you're with somepony else, and... then it starts all over. Again and again, until the day you retire or just -- stop."
They weren't all standard sentences. Some of the phrasing was unique, and the unicorn's mind was scrambling to sort the results. But for what she saw as the general intent -- that was almost familiar.
"...it's an illusion, isn't it?" her charge softly asked. "One anypony could cast, if they just learned how. But an illusion without magic still isn't real. You're paid to be here, paid for everything you do. It's a job. And there's going to be somepony else after me, and another pony, and... you're good at making it seem as if you care. You have to be. But I don't know, do I? I..."
Three steps taken without looking at the road, as the cold rippled across their fur. And then that one eye opened again.
"...I don't know. And I was talking to Applejack about that, while you were in the house. Pinkie, for about a minute."
"And what did they say?" Because there were up to five other ponies competing for her charge's attention and potential perspective at any given time, she had to know what they had told Fluttershy --
"...to just ask you," the pegasus softly finished. "So I did. Am."
Her head came up. Eye contact was made, if only from one side.
There was something about that gaze: the unicorn had noticed that now and again. It wasn't particularly intense, but it suggested that another level of intensity was available. And it could be very, very patient.
The cart wheels slowed. Squeaked to a stop, as both mares found themselves still within a shifting world.
"Fleur -- do you like me?"
And the pegasus waited.
Escorts took classes on how to deal with that question. They were provided with answers which allowed them to get through the query while maintaining both professionalism and a proper relationship with the client.
Fleur felt that most of her classes had been stupid.
It's not the gift, it's the giver! Haven't you heard that saying? And you should never question a gift, no matter how it arrives. One you weren't expecting is just that much more special...
Nopony can help how they meet. Maybe some things are just meant to be, and they should be cherished all the more for being slightly -- unusual. And we both know how much you love things which are just a little. bit. different.
The money feels like a privilege. Like the world wants me to know you so badly, it's willing to pay me for the honor.
And lurking beneath the words in an eternal undercurrent of agonizing Hope,
it's real, it's all real, maybe I have to force a false laugh with the rest of them but you're the one who's funny.
Her clients had their own reason for asking the question. Every escort got that question eventually, especially if they were seeing any clients regularly: somepony possessed of Fleur's beauty and booking schedule heard it a lot. She'd answered it over and over again, to the point where the lies just about flowed of their own accord --
-- but Fluttershy was asking for a different reason. It meant the usual answers didn't apply. And she wasn't sure how to phrase the one which did.
"How long have you been thinking about this?" It was a stall -- but it was also a legitimate question, and if Fleur had to start providing answers...
"...a little while." The incredible tail didn't quite twitch or lash -- but the movement was something more than a sway, and it made Fleur wonder if only sheer volume had kept the motion from true expression. "...but most of it was last night. While you were sleeping."
Which meant the topic was potentially arising because Fluttershy had seen Fleur at work. Doing whatever was necessary in order to secure the best plates for a pegasus who didn't seem to feel she was allowed to partake at all...
"There's something you're overlooking." And she kept the words gentle. Even, calm, and truthful. Because honesty was so often pointless, especially as an Element (although Fleur still wanted to know if any extra magic had been granted to the Bearers, and Fluttershy was exactly the wrong mare to ask) -- but there were a few precious times when it was the easiest solution.
You had to create a lie, and any falsehood meant to last for more than a minute was probably going to need a support system.
Working as an escort had given Fleur access to portions of the nobility -- but there were professions which called on her services more than others, and the second most common summons came from actors. It had given Fleur some degree of exposure to the craft involved in both theater and cinema, if only from a position of one-removed (or, more frequently, a position of Somewhere Near The Bed) because she usually wasn't going to make it to the stage or set. It had provided a refinement of her own education, because those performances were asking the public to buy into a lie for a little while. And as with her own clients, there were those who came in wanting to believe, doing so without the stop imposed by closing credits or deep foreknee bends taken at the front edge of a stage -- but some carried their doubts with them as a shield, forever searching for holes in the plot.
Lies took work. Lies had to look like the truth, and truth frequently came with paperwork (forged), witnesses (bribed), and a full retelling of events (scripted). You needed set dressing and decorations, there was usually a wardrobe budget, and Sun help you if there was a single continuity drop because the audience wouldn't.
Cinema had the benefit of multiple takes and if all else failed, the director could just cut out anything they didn't like. Keeping a lie going on stage required a full team, and the only help you could hope for in the event of error came from a prompt box. Tracking a falsehood when she was usually the lone performer, keeping everything straight in her head at all times, having to recall where every last prop had been stored while hoping they would pass inspection and incidentally, the rather unaware supporting player she'd drafted only had one line and she wasn't sure if he was capable of remembering it...
A good lie could do just about anything, at least for a short time. But lies were complicated. Lying up an entire life was something which Fleur felt should have earned her multiple awards, although there were certain issues when it came to openly submitting herself into the category.
Honesty had a benefit: it was just there. It also arrived as a whole, and could be recited with very little rehearsal. The central detriment was that it often seemed to have less support, both for evidence and those willing to believe in it. Honesty was easy to challenge, and a defense of 'But it's the truth!' usually didn't hold up for long: with minor irony, some of the fastest collapses came in court.
But under the right circumstances...
"...what?" There was some confusion in her charge's tones: an aspect which had led the normal hesitancy to double down on itself and then take out a mortgage against the remainder of the morning. "...what am I overlooking?"
But she only had to convince Fluttershy. And she didn't even have to lie.
"You're not my client."
You're my charge.
The single visible eye blinked.
"...but..."
"The Princess is." (It had taken a minor effort of will to apply the title.) "You might have asked the palace for help, but ultimately, she's the one who hired me. The invoices go to the palace." She turned a little more, and a subtle series of muscle movements drew the unicorn up to her full height. "With a normal escort assignment, yes: I have to find some way of getting the client to like me. As far as this job is concerned, it doesn't matter whether you like me or not. We both know I've --" 'pissed you off' felt like far too strong a term when compared to the actual reactions "-- irritated you a few times, just by making you do things you weren't comfortable with. I'm probably going to do that again before this is over, and I doubt it's going to just be one more time. Not when I have to keep pushing you against your own boundaries. Trying to make you take the next step."
And eventually, when --
-- if --
-- when I do find somepony for you, we're going to wind up talking about sex.
I'm sure you know a lot about sex. You could probably tell me the mating habits for a hundred different species. Dances and displays and courtship rituals. I'm really hoping you skip over porcupines.
But I'm almost completely certain that you've never thought about ponies.
How to make a pony happy.
How to make yourself --
A little more softly, because Fleur knew her hooves were treading on delicate ground, "You've already told me to go away once."
The wind shifted fur and feathers, failed to loft either tail.
"...yes."
Almost a whisper, so close to the natural tones of her charge. "Because I made you remember things which you didn't want to think about."
Sun shifted. The world raced around them, trying to find a way to create one more second of going on. And then the coral mane shifted.
Part of that movement came from a simple rise and fall of the head: just enough to qualify for a bare nod. But there was also a touch of flip built into the motion, something which briefly threatened to expose both eyes --
-- the manefall dropped back into place, and Fleur was looking at half of a natural wonder again.
"I'm sorry." She allowed herself the sigh, let it waft with the breeze. "For whatever it's worth, I'm sorry. I didn't know. And I'm probably going to at least wind up touching some sore spots along the way, or worse. I'm hoping 'sore' is as bad as it gets, and that if it goes any further -- you'll tell me. And afterwards, if you need some time to yourself, time when you want me to go away... you'll say something else. The same thing you said before."
Just barely audible. "...what?"
With open respect, because her charge had earned that much. A charge who was in many ways just as weak as she looked, and yet so much stronger. "You asked me to come back tomorrow."
They were both quiet for a time, facing each other on the path. Anypony who spent a lot of time around Fluttershy had to get used to long periods of silence, and those who knew they had to remain there also had to figure out when to break it.
"You don't have to like me," Fleur finally said. "It's easier if you do -- some of the time. Because there's going to be times when I have to push you a little harder, to make you push yourself. And the more you like me, the more you might feel like I was betraying you. Hurting you, and making it personal. But as far as the job goes... your liking me doesn't get us to the end. To what you wanted. So I haven't been trying to get you to like me. There isn't much point. And..."
She shrugged, and was surprised to find the movement had been slightly rueful.
"...again, for what it's worth -- I do like you. I --"
This time, the unicorn's head dipped. A finely-polished horn cut the air, and then went still.
"...Fleur?"
The corners of the escort's mouth briefly twitched.
"-- I don't like a lot of people."
The pegasus blinked.
"...really?"
"I don't always see them at their best." She raised her head, doing so just before the snort would have emerged at the wrong angle. "When they let me see them at all. Ponies put on masks around escorts. It's like some of your animals: they feel like they've been challenged, and they also feel small and scared. Like -- prey. So they puff themselves up, make themselves look bigger --"
"-- like more of a threat." She hadn't been expecting the interruption, and the fact that her charge had felt comfortable enough to make one registered as progress. "Or, for ponies -- more important? Since there's sort of a mating ritual involved?"
Fleur nodded. "I've escorted performers. Actors and actresses. But those are just the professionals. Just about everypony thinks they have to play a part around me. It can take so much time just to work out who somepony really is..."
I know them.
I tell myself I know them, because I can sense one of the most crucial aspects. There are times when I'm the only one in the world who knows them that well. I take the things they hide from themselves and arrange everything in a gallery.
If I know who they are sexually, then it has to tell me something about who they are as people.
And all I learned about you was...
...white.
I had to figure you out.
I'm still...
"All you've ever been around me," Fleur quietly finished, "is Fluttershy. I don't have any reason to make Fluttershy like me, because the job can get done either way. But I like Fluttershy. She's an easy mare to like." With what felt like the smallest possible increase in volume, "If she lets you get close enough to see that she's worth liking. I feel like that's the hard part. Having you take a chance on letting anypony get close. You're not an easy pony to meet."
And the pegasus nodded.
It was a stronger nod than the last. More of a statement.
"The other Bearers." It felt as if it was safe to ask this much. "How did you meet them?"
"...Rainbow..." It was an exceptionally slow breath. "...flight camp."
Fleur blinked.
"That far back? She's from your --"
"-- no. Multiple settled zones sent their children to a big camp. I saw her there, and... then we didn't see each other again for years. She..."
Fleur distantly wondered if the temporary at the cottage was due for time-and-a-half.
"...there was a race," Fluttershy softly said, "and there was an accident. Rainbow thought she did something where I almost got hurt. We didn't meet again until she moved here, and I'd already been in Ponyville for a while. She had to make herself come up to me. For Rainbow, trying to apologize... that can be hard for her. But there were a lot of racers, and we don't know who bumped me. We can't know. I tried to tell her that. She hasn't talked about it since, because once was enough and I told her -- if it was her, then I forgave her. I just feel like she still blames herself..."
That's interesting. More than that: it's potentially useful.
Another breath, as Fleur watched oversized wings just barely shift.
"...Twilight -- I told you. Because of Spike, because he was so --" this time, the pegasus' lips twitched "-- adorable. I was setting up a bird chorus for the Summer Sun Celebration and Twilight was supposed to coordinate -- arrange everything. Spike was with her, but she didn't really want to be here and -- she was just a stranger in town. Somepony I wanted to... go away, and she just wanted to leave..." The sigh ruffled its way through manefall. "Pinkie tried to throw me a party. The same kind she did for you, except it never got that far because I -- I couldn't let her in. I hid under my couch, and I just -- didn't want to see her, because -- I couldn't be around her. We had a friend in common, an old friend, but... she was loud and happy and she was always trying to meet everypony and... she was everything I wasn't. It hurt to see her." The tail was losing loft. "To hear her laughing..."
Quickly, "What changed? Did your mutual friend --"
"-- Rarity. She'd moved back home, opened the Boutique after she left her boarding school. She wanted a pet, so the upper level wouldn't feel so empty. Pinkie brought her to me, and that's when she adopted Opal. It was Pinkie's way of apologizing. She -- tries to be a little quieter around me. It's not always easy for her. And Applejack... she has a dog. Winona patrols the Acres on her own, because border collies have to work or they get really restless. I just saw a beautiful collie, and I stopped to talk with her for a while. Applejack came out after Winona didn't come in for dinner. She'd known about me before that, but... she didn't have any reason to come out to the cottage. But after that, I was Winona's groomer. Then I was giving her checkups, and -- it just went from there. Applejack's said --" and even for her charge, the hesitation seemed to last too long "-- that even on the first day we met, I felt like... kin. It was easier for her than it was for me..."
Fluttershy sighed. Adjusted her shoulders against the hitch, pushing without going anywhere.
"...it's hard sometimes," the pegasus said, and there was a little bit of shudder in every syllable. "We're very different, all of us from each other, and... there's ways where we're alike, but those can be the hardest things to see. Sometimes it feels like the differences could break us apart. But -- we're friends. I... don't always understand how, or why. We're still friends. Enough that the Elements work for us, when we really need them to. But for me, to stay close, to make myself stay close... sometimes that's hard. I've -- almost walked away, a couple of times. One of them was after Iron Will, and I was pushing them. But... they followed me. And when even that's too much..."
The first tear felt overdue.
"...they wait for me to come back."
The unicorn didn't approach, didn't speak. She simply waited for the tears to stop, because it didn't feel like they had arisen from pain.
In time, the pegasus looked up again.
"...you like me." The words had been far drier than her eyes.
Fleur nodded.
"...would you still like me if there wasn't any assignment at all?"
The escort blinked.
...what does she mean?
From any other client, it would have been a normal question, and Fleur had a number of suitable lies prepared for those occasions. But with Fluttershy...
She turned the question over in her mind a few times, found no angle which let it threaten to make sense. And after thirty horrible seconds, became aware that she was on the verge of making it ninety. She had to say something...
"I don't know how we would have met," felt honest enough. "We don't exactly trot in the same social circles." Prior to the destruction of her life, there had been a certain, mostly-unvoiced question as to why the Bearers never seemed to appear at Canterlot events -- and Fluttershy's recounting of the Gala had answered all of them. "I didn't have any reason to go into Ponyville. Even if somepony who lived here hired me, it probably would have been for an event in the city. And for anything which was taking place here..." The smile felt justified. "...you can't tell me that you would have been attending much on your own. I don't think I ever would have had the chance to like you."
It was the truth, and it was going to remain the truth no matter how long Fluttershy simply stood there and -- looked at her. The truth. There was a rather stupid Element which claimed that had to mean something --
"...all right," her charge finally said, and yellow-furred shoulders pushed against the hitch. "...that's your answer." Wheels began to squeak again, with sound and pony coming closer to Fleur --
-- she didn't dodge. There was no need: it wasn't as if the pegasus had been charging. But it had still been more of a direct approach than she'd been expecting, and it meant having to step aside. Doing so to a degree which cleared the cart and stinking tent put her off the path.
Fleur blinked again. Tried to move forward, and found part of her anatomy unwilling to cooperate. It took a few mutters and corona flares to free her tail from the dead thistles. Something else to restore, and it took a moment of sorting through imaginary brushes before she moved to catch up.
"...we should talk about the Algonquin," her charge suggested. "When we get back to the cottage. Ponies who might be there."
It should have been encouraging. It was encouraging, and Fleur resolved to tell herself that until the inner disorientation went away. She just wasn't used to Fluttershy suggesting a next step on her own, that was all --
"...and you'll need to arrange for somepony to watch the cottage that night."
Fleur nodded.
"...actually... there's another night coming up."
If she's picked out a second party on her own --
"...we all play cards. The Bearers. One night in every season."
Fleur's "...really?" was more echo than tribute.
"...yes. And the game rotates between all of our houses. It's not at the cottage this time. So I have to make arrangements, and I was wondering..."
All six of them in the same room. I can finally see how they all interact with each other. It's a chance to see how they all feel about me after that first date. To make the ones who like me work against the bitch, force her into a longer-term truce, and then I can start working on getting the majority interest in the group --
"...if you'd mind watching the cottage. Just for that night." Paused. "You can invoice the palace for it."
-- of course. The world had momentarily dangled something she actually wanted in front of her -- and before her horn could try to spear the target, yanked everything away. Only she'd managed to make some degree of off-center contact, and the pull was now tearing at her fur--
"It sounds like it would be more fun to watch you play." Maybe the situation wasn't beyond recovery yet. "I can always hire somepony and bill the palace for that. As far as the job goes, we can say it's about practicing social interaction. There's games at the Algonquin --"
"-- it's Bearers only."
Of course.
"...Spike doesn't even play. Twilight says he's too young to gamble."
Keep piling it on...
"...Luna comes sometimes, though. But she was invited. We just can't ever be sure if she can attend. Palace duties, government affairs... she tries, but she usually has to cancel."
...and there we go. Losing out on the full set and a Princess who's almost certainly been warned about me, but doesn't necessarily agree with her sister on everything and, as long as I'm being delusional about the best possible results, is still single. Thank you, world. Is there anything else you'd like to kick in? Or anywhere else you'd like to kick?
"...no Guards, though. She says we're enough. But it's always just Luna. The Princess never comes. I don't think she even likes cards..."
No tail lashing.
No tail lashing.
...my tail already went into the thistles.
One lash.
"...Fleur? Would you please watch the cottage for me?"
"We'll talk about it." Her own words felt oddly distant, and that was a good thing. It meant there was some space between what she was actually saying and the underlying curses. "They're gambling rounds?" Fluttershy nodded. "What are you betting with? Hay twists?"
"...bits."
Immediately, "I had to go over some of your ledgers when I was collecting payments. You may be getting more accounts due in now, but gambling means the chance to lose. You shouldn't --"
"-- it's low-limit. We all talked about it the first time. How much we could all risk."
"What's low-limit? Hundredth-bits? You can say it's all for smidgens, but when you bet enough of them on one grouping --"
"-- and I usually win."
It was the confidence which froze her, and the cart squeaked that much further ahead.
"You win." It wasn't quite a question.
"...not every grouping," her charge told the chill path. "I don't go in on every pot. Just when I'm ready. When there's a chance. I don't always get the most bits, but... I've never gone home with less than I came with. Not once."
"You've been lucky. Luck always runs out --"
The pegasus glanced back. Manefall shifted with the movement, and there was a moment when both eyes were obscured.
"-- they tell me," Fluttershy informed her, "that I'm very hard to read."
And before Fleur could move, the cart surged forward again.
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Wow. She asked the question!
----
And she's talking to Fleur, who's trying to be a Reader!
What has Fluttershy read on Fleur??? hmm....
----
I thought Discord would make an appearance / ambush while they were in the woods, but no...
----
Ah, the Bearer card game... What is Fleur gonna do?? Hmm.
I know you’ve had difficulty writing this one sometimes, that you doubt your ability to be funny on command when things are hard in your own life. Your voice seems spot-on this chapter, entirely worthy of its predecessors. I don’t see it as a comedy though. EDLWMG is way funnier more often, this is a very serious romance without any romance (so far).
Oh please make Fluttershy play games at the Algonquin. And make sure the initial bid is paid by the palace.
Fleur and Fluttershy hitting the gambling tables of Caterlot could be a very good exercise for Fluttershy once Fleur get her competitiveness going.
Fleeing the past and fearing the future... Fleur really is between a rock and a hard place, and that's before considering her de facto banishment.
The discussion of liking Fluttershy was a fantastic bit of understated character interaction.
Fluttershy and Dash are from different settled zones? Unexpected.
Heh. Oh, if only she'd known...
Hmm. An interesting turn of phrase. Most unicorns in your work don't go for the narwhal approach.
In any case, again, very interesting bit of walk and talk. These two are hiding layers upon layers from one another. Trying to dredge up something from the other's depths will be tricky business indeed. We'll have to see how this develops. I wonder if Discord's ever tried crashing the seasonal card game before...
Yay!
Thank you, Estee. And now, setting everything else aside...
I honestly am thinking the best match for Fluttershy might be Fleur.
Damnit! This story switches between two perspectives, Fleur and Discord. And neither are invited to the poker game.
I wanna see the poker game!!!
Of course she's hard to read. She's nervous all the time. It's the perfect poker face, and she's hypersensitive to other ponies' reactions, so Win/Win.
Seeing Fluttershy cocky is always the best thing.
So the Griffon monster farms then...
Great chapter
Is Twilight Sensitive about that word, Fluttershy?
So uh -
Wow. Fluttershy was about as direct as we've ever seen her and Fluer just utterly missed it. And I'm left wondering if Fluttershy figured out that Fluer just didn't understand the question.
Or essentially, I think this entire conversation was essentially Fluer missing Flutteryshy informing Pinkie and Applejack that Fluttershy likes Fluer. Or at last Fluttershy deciding she needs to figure out whether as she said, Fluer's actions towards her was an illusion or real. Which uh, look it's not exactly a spoiler to the audience that Fluer is on the "possible" significant other list. Because premise of the story has been going there for a long long while.
And of course Fluer would miss that someone that she wasn't pulling her come hither tricks on might be legitimately considering. Just... that. All of that. And Fluer missing that essentially she was having the same conversation with Fluttershy that so many of her clients had had with her in the past. Only Fluer wasn't trying to put up an illusion with Fluttershy so - just missed the conversation for what it was.
Though - I do wonder if Fluttershy caught that Fluer was clueless and not getting the hint versus a denial answer.
Because - yeah Fluer wasn't lying except to maybe herself with that line. And that whole conversation pairs interestingly with Fluer being told that Fluttershy is a good poker player. Because there's two reasons for why Fluttershy is good at poker. One is that she herself is so difficult to read, as seen here. Seen in how Fluer just kept not actually catching that she was essentially on a date these last few chapters.
The other trick to being a good poker player is being able to read the other players or being able to figure out who has what cards. Preferably both. And that is what is making me wonder how much Fluttershy read from Fluer here. See - Fluttershy already said how she wins is that she only plays her hand when she has what she thinks is a winning hand. When she's ready. With the implication that she knows how to walk away.
So in this case is it a case of her waiting - or her deciding to walk from the presumably bad hand?
Which the interplay of love and gambling would also have a decidedly secondary subpoint. Fluer is the one that says that love is about risk. She's also the one that only sees the gambling as money going out (which I can't blame her for). Fluttershy is the one saying "I win more than I lose."
"and an hoof-carved frame let Fleur locate"
"and a hoof-carved frame let Fleur locate"?
"White ears immediately parked, rotated left before"
"White ears immediately perked, rotated left before"?
"had given Fleur access to the portions of the nobility"
"had given Fleur access to portions of the nobility"?
"But as far as the job goes... your liking me doesn't get us to the end. To what you wanted."
Weeeeell, in a way, combined with a few other things... :D
And another excellent chapter; thank you for writing. :)
This was a good way to return to Anchor Foal... the conversation here was quite loaded and very intriguing, getting to the hearts of the characters and their relationship as it is... while hinting that one of them might be imagining what it could be.
A shame that we won’t get to sit in on one of the famous Bearers poker nights, but worth it for the frustration that Fleur has to endure.
Quite enjoyable developments and drama. Adding a bit of tension to the relationship is nice. I feel that Fluer expressing something along the lines of ‘.. but I think it’s more important that I think I’ll like you after.’ would have helped to soften what seems to be Fluttershy’s feelings of soft rejection.
It’s funny how Fluer has all these tools to see what might be developing but is entirely blind to what appears to be a budding interest from Fluttershy.
I find myself becoming more and more on board with FleurTershy. This has easily become my favorite work of yours and I’m excited to see it get updates.
Damn this is awesome. Fluttershy is really bold here and Fleur is completely oblivious. That's so ironic. I enjoyed this so much. It's almost as if Fleur doesn't even realize that someone could be attracted to her if she isn't actively seducing/manipulating them. She's so focused on her narrow band of expertise that the idea of Fluttershy being attracted to her non-sexually doesn't cross her mind at all. She can't even understand the question. Jeez.
I'm imagining the cringe Fleur is going to experience when it all comes to a head and she recognizes her mistake, but like at that point, what could anyone do to salvage the situation? Far as I can tell Fluttershy took this to be a pretty firm rejection, at least judging by the way she responded and took off with the cart.
I have no idea what could come next but I'm very excited to find out. Still rooting for them to work it out somehow. Thank you so much for the update Estee!
A bit of an inconsistency. This says that Duet happened, but it's significant in that story that the Crusade ended. But early in this story it was still ongoing, which was one of the more obvious inconsistencies with the Continuum proper.
Hard to smile with a beak.
"Did he turn out to be a mad scientist who used chaos magic to make us into abominations unto ponykind? Why yes, yes he did."
10695762
I totally did not catch that.
10696035
I think it’s important to remember this story is outside the ‘Verse. It was started on the premise that AJ and Snowflake are dating. That was the catalyst for Fluttershy making the request. So from the start it has that plot inconsistency. I would assume in this AU the CMC have simply not broken up.
The other option is it’s just enough forward to have the CMC reconcile. Which doesn’t work since they are crusading to start with the buck.
So, yeah, going with it being an AU where the crusade hasn’t broken up yet.
10696035
I think she's just misinterpreting it. The Crusade is broken up, and it's got those two because Scoots is living there now. She doesn't know that Sweetie is mostly out of the picture and is drawing the wrong conclusion.
10696302
If they haven't broken up, then why are we getting callbacks to a story where they did break up?
Reconciliation is one thing. A resumption of Crusading would be a backtracking of Apple Bloom's character growth.
10696416
In chapter 3 of this story, the Crusade is ongoing ("Cutie Mark Crusaders deer wranglers"). In this chapter we got blatant callbacks to A Duet for Land and Sky where the Crusade is already broken.
I don't know how much more clear I can be in pointing out the inconsistency.
10696735
This story is listed as not being in the verse. It takes a lot from it, but it was started before Duet was. It touches on a lot of the Verse canon, but is not wholly a part. Just like Daily Life, it is not completely integrated. The canon Fleur is reformed in the really weirdly spelled Tapestry.
From the beginning it was both after Duet on the timeline and had an active crusade. The only options are that Estee is so bad at continuity that they missed it or that the crusade has not stopped in this continuity.
10695934
This sure is a blast to the past, though your argument makes sense.
EDIT: Dammit Fimfic commenting settings.
I wonder if Fleur would have been allowed at the poker game if she'd had a better answer to the second question. Probably not, the way Fluttershy tells it, but at the very least, Flutters sure did pick that exact moment to tell her she couldn't come. I wonder if Fleur realizes how hard she fumbled?
10695769
This whole comment is great.
Anna Karenina (Not sure of the spelling) reference?
I know Applejack wouldn't let her win, though she's likely an easy read. Rarity could easily lose on purpose and not get caught. Dash is easy to read and she probably wouldn't try to go all out anyways, not on Fluttershy. Pinkie is probably more invested in having fun than in winning and she's a gamemaster, she can lose easily if she wants. Twilight doesn't even need to try and lose, I get the feeling her luck's atrocious anyways. Presuming Fluttershy is always in some fluctuating state of anxiety, she could be hard to read indeed, then there's the fact that's she's really empathic.
They all probably lose with various degrees of 'on purpose' to try and help Fluttershy who's always needing bits, even if she might have some actual talent for the game. Also, they get hang out and play a game together. Always a win, that.
I expect when it comes to poker Fluttershy is like the reverse of Spiderman, Spidey can't play poker at all if he considers someone a friend but if he plays against a foe? He destroys them because his Spider-sense makes it impossible to bluff. Fluttershy can probably read her friends extremely well and they are hopeless against her, but a stranger will beat her cause she can't read them.
Fleur also brings up a very interesting point about friendship, Becoming friends is easier than meeting people!
Let me tell you, I've been so envious of "Life With Monster Girl" and all its updates. While THIS has been a strong contender for my favorite story from the mine of Estee.
10698585
The best poker game I’ve read with the mane six is in Keeping It Simple by Ivory Piano (It’s also the best Macintosh story on the site with an in-depth and believable character arc that goes very deep).
Applejack plays a straight game, cause bluffing isn’t very honest and her poker face is legendarily bad. Rainbow Dash is brash and prone to bluffing while never folding cause that is an admission of defeat. Pinkie is too scattershot to be read. I think those characterizations fit equally well in the ‘Verse.
I’d love to see the game, especially if it gave us an opportunity to see the main six away from Fleur. Perhaps Discord will hide around and be our eyepiece. I doubt we shift viewpoint characters outside of Fleur and Discord, though that would be interesting.
Maybe next month we’ll switch the update frequency between Anchor Foal and Daily Life.
And just remembered this after thinking of an earlier comment! Fluttershy was a supermodel!
And Fleur knew that, because Photo Finish!... But did they ever cross paths? They sorta did move in the same circles!
10695999
This is where Fleur's refusal to use her talent on Flutters again is both romcom cliche, but also a brilliant piece of inserted ignorance. Fleur knows there's nothing to see, so she doesn't bother looking, which leaves her blind to changes. Credibly ignorant, if you will. Now it's a game of "how late in the game will it be before Fleur looks?" and "what impact will Flutters' updated puzzle have?" I figure us readers are just eating this situation up.
/Sweetie "Oh, come on [Fleur]!"
10703336
It came up pretty early on, and Fleur hates Photo Finish, who constantly cheats her models so that they never actually get paid. She almost did the same to Fleur, except Fleur always reads her contracts before signing.
YEAH BABY
HORSE POKER
Fluttershy's "I bet when I have a chance to win and I usually win in the end" is a pretty great closer to the chapter, along with "I've been told I'm hard to read."
And I see she figured out Fleur loves billing the palace for things, if she's offering it as a deal sweetener here so she feels better about staying behind at the cottage.
10811280
Also, one thing that's been hammered home over and over again is that Fleur is obsessed with time and with not wasting it. This means that, for all that she's clever, she likes to make assumptions and put people in neat boxes when she can because it's fast and she's not going to go back over those assumptions unless something trips her up because that is time spent.
Is Celestia even invited to the card game? Also I really hope we get to see Luna meet Fleur…
10695769
> Seen in how Fluer just kept not actually catching that she was essentially on a date these last few chapters.
Combined with the bit about how Applejack likes to have working dates, Fluttershy could be said to be dropping serious hints that Fleur is deeply oblivious to.
Cause why would anyone like her that way if she's not turning her wiles on them? What a blind spot. And very sad.
11360906
This doesn't surprise me to be honest. Fleur has relied oh her natural ability to read other's interests around her. So when she turns off said ability thing's that are obvious can slip through the cracks.
Ironically Fleur shouldn't be turning her power off because as she stated in the second chapter that people's pieces can change. So it seems silly to cut yourself off any hints to make your job easier.
Lastly Fleur has had a troubled past and has little reason to trust anyone to ever try to form true bonds with anyone. She also never let's herself hope for anything like love cus to her it's pointless and only leads to pain