Oneirology

by Taialin

3. What's in a Dream? Part 2

"Goodness me! You are truly impressive, darling!" I sing as I complete my newest client's chest measurements. He's so muscular there, and it is not as if he's lacking in the rest of his body, either. Rippling with strength with not an ounce to spare, it's clear he puts work into his physical appearance.

The rather dashing stallion in front of me bows low when I take my hooves away from his figure. Yes, I could have done them via magic, but measurements by hoof are always more, well, accurate. And he gave me permission! "A wonderful compliment from one as beautiful and worldly as you. Your words make me feel strong as a gazelle bounding through Zebrica," he says.

My eyes brighten and I trot closer him. He's quite tall, so I have to look up. "And poetic, too! I would hope you will order from me more often," I say, winking.

The stallion inclines his head, a coy smile on his handsome face. The gentle skyward curve of his lips are juxtaposed against his sharp and square jawline, his gentility an asset that complements his physical disposition. "I can assure you, milady, that if your custom garments are even half of the creations I see in your Canterlot Carousel, this will not be the last time I will request your services."

"Wonderful, wonderful," I exclaim, clapping my hooves together, very pleased. I'm vaguely aware that I'm being a rather poor example of my usual professionalism in dealing with clients right now. Then again, this is the kind of client I love to have. A repeat, not to mention a well-spoken and gentlemanly one. (And he's handsome!) Am I not granted an exception every now and again? I skip over to my workbench, where my notes are. "What is this suit for, dear?"

His deep, sonorous voice resonates through the room, a smooth and milky baritone, seeming to make everything in the room vibrate. "A diplomatic meeting with the envoys from Prance. I know appearing in one of your custom suits will be sure to impress and start the meeting off on the right hoof."

At his mention of Prance, I spin back around, notes briefly forgotten. "You are speaking with Prench ambassadors? How cultured of you! Do you speak any Prench?"

My stallion offers another shallow bow. "Bien sûr, mademoiselle," he says with an accent so authentic, I would have thought he was a native.

There's nothing to stop it now. I put a hoof to my forehead, pretending to be in a feverish heat. "No, stop! You are simply too much!"

I hear a deep rumble deep in his throat as he chuckles. He opens his mouth to respond:

"Please . . . you're not like this . . ."

I freeze, hoof still to my forehead and contorted in an uncomfortable position. I stand back straight. "C-come again?" I say. Where did that come from? That didn't sound anything like him. Or any stallion, for that matter. He's still standing there, perfectly poised, like nothing is the matter. But that voice wasn't strong, deep, and resonant . . . more feeble, distant, and distinctly feminine. I curl my lip and shake my head.

"Ah, nevermind, thank you." I pretend that I actually heard whatever it was that he really said, responding with something probably relevant. I turn around and return to mundanity, attempting to read my notes . . . but for some reason, they're terribly hard to comprehend. Was I drunk when I wrote this? "So . . . remind me of what you needed from your suit, again?"

His lovely sonorous drone reaches my ears once again, back to its usual deep and rich self. "I think I shall need it to be weatherproof, considering don't go. I don't want to go back . . ."

Ack! What in the world? I stumble back a step and fall to the floor on my rump. Once is a fluke, but twice most certainly is not. There is somepony else here, and she sounds worryingly distressed. Though I swear that I have heard that voice before. So soft and unassuming . . . It kind of sounds like—"

"Milady?" A deep voice lances through my thoughts, and I look back to him. My stallion is still standing off idly off to the side, a slightly concerned look on his face. "Do you feel alright?" He glides forward slowly on stocky hooves, and he offers a perfectly-shorn one to me to help me get up. It takes me a moment to stop looking at the hoof and accept his offer. He pulls me up effortlessly.

"Ah . . . thank you, monsieur." I say slowly. My eyes move away from him momentarily, conflicted. Suddenly, all this doesn't seem quite as important anymore. Like there's something more important I should be worrying about. "Um . . . where were we?" I say, looking back into his turquoise eyes.

Turquoise?

"My suit, I believe," he replies.

"Yes, yes, that is what we were discussing. You require it to be weatherproofed, correct? What say you to stop, please! I-I'm sorry!"

My heart stops and my body goes cold. That demure voice, that fear laced throughout it, that timbre that should have been instantly recognizable. Stupid, stupid, stupid! How could I have been so dense? Whatever emotions I felt before are gone; all that's left is a horror that it took so long for me to recognize her. Fluttershy's cry of distress. I don't know where she is or why she is reaching out, but she needs me. My love needs me.

I whip my head about, trying to glimpse where she is. Dining room, bedroom, upstairs, basement . . . No! I start scampering around, searching for her frantically. Her voice didn't come from any locus, but it seemed to resonate throughout the house; I can't locate it. All I know is that she's somewhere, and she is calling out to me. The stallion I was talking to has all but vanished in my mind.

"Fluttershy, sweetheart, I'm coming!" I cry out in the hope that she can hear me. Every moment that passes only makes my heart pound a little harder. She is in trouble; I'm sure of it. I explore everywhere: in the closets, under the bed, inside cookie jars, trying to find a flash of yellow or pink. Nothing! How hard can it be to find a pony in my own home!?

I know this place inside and out, and I've explored everywhere a pony could conceivably hide and quite a few places only Pinkie Pie could. She is nowhere! And yet, no matter where I am or what direction I'm facing, her voice still seems to come from everywhere, like it's been magically amplified. That only leaves . . .

Nevermind the fact that I couldn't possibly hear her speaking so quietly if she was outside. It's all there is left. I screw my eyes shut and charge out the front door of my Boutique.

The moment I burst out the door, the soundscape around me changes as the quiet domestic sounds of my home is replaced with the rolling roar of distant thunder. Strange. I swear it was a sunny day the last time I looked out the window. I open my eyes to check.

"Where did I . . . what?" I blink and rub my eyes.

It takes me several seconds to find my bearings. I'm no longer outside the Boutique's front door, even though I know I just ran out of it. It's nowhere to be seen. The familiar expanse of my estate has been replaced with eerie looking trees. The branches above are waving threateningly, and the sky is indeed overcast and dark, threatening a storm. There's a winding dirt road in front of me, one that looks frightening and foreboding but also oddly familiar. Behind me, there are only more trees, even though I was in my Boutique not a few seconds ago.

This . . . This flies in the face of all logic. Has Discord enchanted the town again? Is there some world-rending villain afoot that Twilight failed to mention to me? How did I arrive here in this desolate place upon just going out of my front door? Dangerous business, that. I feel like I'm dreaming or something. Dreaming a dream that just turned into a horrifying nightmare.

My ears twitch, and I hear a distant squeak. Her squeak. I can locate it now. She's up ahead. My confusion is pushed to the wayside as another issue of far more importance occupies my mind. I dash forward, following the sole path ahead. Please, sweetheart, hold on. Rarity is coming.

Eventually, the canopy of dark trees thins and breaks, revealing the familiar forest clearing of Fluttershy's front yard, she and another pony in the middle of it. Thank goodness I've found her. I make a start to run to her, but the scene around gives me pause. I've seen her yard hundreds of times, but I've never seen it like this.

The river in front of her cottage has turned into vicious whitewater with dark creatures swimming around in it, and the bridge overlooking it is rotting and falling apart. The cottage itself is mossy and dilapidated, overgrown with ivy and overhanging tree branches, and surrounded by a wide ring of dead grass. It was fine just last night; her home couldn't have fallen into such disrepair so quickly. The only source of illumination is the eclipsed moon, and it casts everything under it in a red glow. There's a supercell of horrendous size spinning above, and it looks like the Tantibus of nightmares could spring out from its center at any moment.

Nightmare?

The sudden change in scenery, the unbelievable deplorableness, the stallion who seemed too good to be true . . . I sharpen my brow and will something to appear, explicitly not using my magic. Sure enough, a teacup cuts into existence in front of my eyes and falls to the ground, shattering.

Dear Luna, I really am in a dream. But is this my dream? I felt like I stepped into another universe when I ran out of my "home," and my nightmares don't usually look like this. And when I study the trees along the path a little closer, they appear strangely blocky and simplistic . . . almost like they're the product of a mind that only wanted them to resemble trees from a distance. No, my dream was must have been just the Boutique. But when I heard that voice crying out for help and ran to it, I must have escaped my dream and ran into . . . Fluttershy's? That would certainly explain her presence and the trees; this is her dream, and they're not important in her mind. How I got here, though . . .

Well, now that I know what this desolate place is, I walk a few steps closer to study the ponies in it, spying Fluttershy and her mysterious companion. That mare has a perfect white coat that almost appears to glow in the light, and her violet mane is coiffed with cascading curls. Her rump is marked with—

Dear Celestia. That's me. Fluttershy's speaking with me.

"Rarity, you're scaring me," Fluttershy squeaks to me but not-me.

She scoffs. "What, are you still bothered by what I'm saying to you? This isn't the first time I've told you, and you say the same pathetic things back every time. The truth never changes, darling, and apparently, neither do your excuses." She's wearing a disinterested face that I know I've worn before—to ponies I don't want to bother me. But I've never looked at Fluttershy with that expression.

"But, no, I—"

"But nothing. Do you know for how long we have been dating?" Not-Rarity raises an eyebrow in a questioning gesture. I know that I do that too, but it's never looked as threatening as it does now. Please tell me I don't look at her like that.

Fluttershy melts closer to the ground. Her eyes are big and wide, and they're glittering with unshed tears. She takes a tiny step back. But not-Rarity only takes a step forward and closes the gap before it can form.

"Three months, Fluttershy. Three months," not-Rarity answers brusquely. "If you are really considering even thinking these things now, you're lucky that it's been three months. There are so many other things I could be doing. Unless you want three months to be all there is?"

"N-no . . ." she answers quietly.

Not-Rarity turns her head away from Fluttershy and towards my direction with a "hmph," acid in my—her—eyes. I tense my forehooves and lower my body, readying myself, but even as she stares at me—through me—she doesn't notice or acknowledge me. "You're a fish in a pond, Fluttershy. And you know this isn't how you express your love to somepony you presumably want to love you back. That feather wasn't love; it was desperation." She turns an eye back to Fluttershy and glares at her in the way Canterlotians glare at non-natives. Superiorly. "What makes you think that would have made a difference?"

"Please, stop," Fluttershy whimpers, trembling.

I've had enough. My hooves are pawing at the ground restlessly, and my breath is coming out of my nostrils in impudent snorts. Nopony has the right to abuse my Fluttershy like that. Especially if it's taking my image.

I charge forward, over the dilapidated river bridge, over the expanse of dead grass. I jump up and chamber my right forehoof against my shoulder. Snarling murderously, I release my hoof and deliver a vicious right hook against that monster's head.

Like punching a ghost, my strike goes straight through my target, shortly followed with the rest of my body. Not expecting the lack of resistance, I fail to get my hooves under me in time and tumble to the ground in a cloud of dust.

I clamber up to my hooves quickly and look around. Not-Rarity is still staring at Fluttershy as if nothing happened. Meanwhile, Fluttershy is staring at me incredulously as if I have two heads. Considering there are two Raritys in front of her, and one of them just phased through the other, that may as well be true.

Her eyes flick between me and not-me, betraying surprise but also fear. "R-Rarity?"

I dash forward again, this time towards Fluttershy. Thankfully, she is substantial, and she and I tumble backwards against the dirt. I wrap my hooves around her in a tight embrace, trying to protect her against those specters that want to harm her in body and mind. Nopony hurts my Fluttershy while I'm around.

"Fluttershy," I say into her shoulder, "it's Rarity. Your love. That thing isn't me." I glance towards the creature behind us. She still hasn't reacted. "It just wants to hurt you."

"What-what's going—"

"You're dreaming, Fluttershy. This is all nothing but a horrible, horrible nightmare." I kiss the side of her neck. "I heard you arguing with somepony in my own dream, and you sounded very distressed, so I escaped mine"—somehow—"and came to find you." I release my hooves and plant them on the ground on either side of her, hoisting my body up so she can see my face and I can see hers. I lick the beginning of tears off her cheeks and try to calm her with a small smile. "I'm here now, sweetheart. You're safe."

Fluttershy looks in my eyes, skepticism and fear still written in her own. I look back with the most unthreatening, loving, earnest eyes I have. Goodness knows she's been scared enough tonight. I don't even know how much longer she was with this thing before I heard her, or how many times she's visited in the past. Over and over in my mind, I say, I love you, sweetheart. I would never hurt you, hoping that my thoughts will manifest in my eyes and calm her pounding heart.

"Touching," a voice I never wanted to hear again says. Because it's mine.

My ears twitch and look back to the pony who interrupted our moment. She's examining her fetlocks idly, like she couldn't care less about the affection I was trying to convey. Then she looks to me with a smile I didn't know I could make. I shiver. "But you don't know why exactly she is scared, no? Because when you do, you'll understand. And then you'll be on my side."

The moment she finishes, Fluttershy stiffens and crawls out from under me, retreating backwards. She looks at me with anxiety-filled eyes. "Don't listen to her, sweetheart," I say. "Whatever it is that you fear, you're stronger than it. You can conquer it!"

"Oh goodness, you're both naïve fillies." My phantom sidles up beside me. "This isn't a problem that can be so easily 'conquered,' as you put it. In fact, as long as you are here"—she points to me with a hoof, then points to Fluttershy—"she will continue to be scared."

My ears twitch again. She's still smiling that same off-smile. I turn to her, brows angled sharply. "Don't you bring me into this," I growl. "I only stumbled upon her dream just now. And I am her marefriend; I cannot possibly be the reason she is scared. Fluttershy fears you, not me." I poke her in the nonexistent chest. "I would never frighten her so."

She looks at me with a brow raised, unfazed. "You say that now, but you're only proving my point. You'll be singing a different tune once you hear her secrets: those secrets she wants so desperately to tell you but won't tell you about in the waking world." She glances to Fluttershy, speaking half to me, half to her. "And now that the real Rarity is here, you can tell her all your secrets now!" Her eyes flash dangerously, turning fully to her. "Your nightmares are about to become real, sweetie."

I look back to Fluttershy. Her pupils shrink to pinpricks before she hides her face in her hooves. An icy cold suddenly grips my heart. I reach a hoof out to her. "Don't listen to her, sweetheart! I know you're scared, but I promise, whatever it is that you want to tell me, we can work this out!"

My phantom mimics my gesture. "Yes, listen to your marefriend! Admit to the secrets you've been holding on to for so long!"

I can't stand her anymore. Few things in this world can drive me to such passionate anger, but add "harassing my love" to the top of that list. I whirl on her. "You have been bothering Fluttershy for long enough! I will be sure to inform Princess Luna of your existence and have you eradicated once and for all!"

"Princess Luna? Whatever do you mean?"

My brow narrows further. "Don't play dumb . . . vile Tantibus. Spirit of fear, created to give your host the same nightmare night after night." It all makes sense; few things but magical creations are so dogged in their quest to cause pain. And based on what that creature says, it's not the first time she's visited. I don't know how that magic escaped and found its way into Fluttershy—or why it's taking my form, for that matter—but once Princess Luna knows, Fluttershy will finally be able to find some restful—

"You wound me!"

I look back at not-Rarity and say, "I beg your pardon?"

"You think I am a nightmare creature?" She holds her chest with a hoof, pouting. "How awful of you to even suggest that! I am not the result of any arcane creation." She points to Fluttershy. "I am simply a manifestation of her fears. A creation of her mind."

My mouth pumps several times before any sounds come out of it. "That's-that's . . ." I stutter. That's impossible. This monstrosity is a product of Fluttershy's mind? She made this creature herself? What darkness is hiding there that she could create something so vile? So this creature isn't some magical construct come to throw baseless fear-mongering accusations; they come from Fluttershy herself. The manifestation of her fears.

A chill runs down my spine. The manifestation of her fears . . . is me.

"No . . . No, I don't believe you," I say, more confidence in my words than I feel in my heart. She simply can't be scared of me. "Why would Fluttershy ever make you, and why would her fears take my form? You lie! She is the sweetest and most loving mare I have ever met. You know nothing of what motivates her."

She ignores me, not batting an eyelash. "Oh, Fluttershy!" that monster calls out again in my sing-song voice. "You don't want me to explain to your marefriend how selfish you've been, do you? How undeserving you are of love but how desperate you are for it? Doing everything you can to keep others from happiness so you can have your own selfish desires?"

Everything she says seems like an utter fabrication—they're so at odds with the Fluttershy I know—but if they were untrue, why would Fluttershy tremble more with every word? Her distilled fear that takes my form . . . It bothers me how good she is at this.

Fluttershy's voice is so tiny I can barely hear her. "Please—"

"Stop? I will when you tell your dear marefriend why I exist." Not-Rarity glares at Fluttershy with an icy venom I can only describe as "evil." "You're pathetic, Fluttershy. Your marefriend is right here, and you can't even find the means to hide your failings? Or admit to them? Or explain anything at all?" She takes a step closer to her with each accusation. "All you can do is stay silent and let the inevitable happen when she leaves you for good. For all that you've done, that's better than what you deserve."

"Shut up," I hiss. I still do not believe the words that come out of not-my mouth. Whether her words originally come from Fluttershy's thoughts or not, they've been so mangled by irrational fear, nightmare, and a sadistic desire to hurt that I don't trust them at all. Not until I hear them from Fluttershy herself.

Not-Rarity only glances at me and rolls her eyes before looking back to Fluttershy. "She can't do anything to me; that's not how your fear works." She puts on a mock-pensive expression. "Though what will happen to me when you do tell her? What is your despair manifested, I wonder? If you tell her, I should say; at this rate, we'll be here—"

"Shut up!" I screech, whirling on her. I can't even bring myself to care about what she's saying anymore. Nothing in recent memory has made me so enraged as that monster using my voice to distress my love so. I put myself between Fluttershy and her, and I look at her with indomitable fury. "I am here, and I will not stand for Tantibus, monster, or fear incarnate speaking one more word to her."

"Fine," she says, completely disinterested. It was as if she wasn't fazed by my explosion in the slightest. "You can take it up with her. She might tell you eventually." She sniffs. "Not that it makes a difference."

So the monster claims I can't do anything to her. We'll see how unbridled fear handles itself when it must do battle with love. I glare at her for a little longer before turning my eyes to Fluttershy. She's still shivering on the ground with hooves covering her face. She lifts her hooves briefly to peer up at me with large, frightened eyes before hiding her head again. Almost too quiet for me to hear, she whispers, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's hopeless now, and I already ruined everything, and you already know all about it, I'm so rude and selfish, and I'm going to lose you because I just couldn't . . ."

I put both of my hooves on either side of her head. When she stops her ceaseless babbling, I slip under her hooves, raise her face from the ground, and give her a gentle hug.

Seconds pass that turn to minutes, all spent in my embrace. Fluttershy remains stiff and doesn't move; she doesn't accept my affection like she usually does.

What does Fluttershy do with animals unfamiliar with her who don't want her help? A slow and non-confrontational approach, I recall, and a world of patience until the animal lets down its walls. Fluttershy is not an animal, but she is frightened. Despite their apparent ineffectiveness, I keep my hooves around her, asking for nothing, simply trying to tell her things in a way fear never could.

"I love you," I murmur softly. "I don't know what that thing has been telling you, but she is wrong. I don't care what she says. I won't leave you. Never." It doesn't matter what she wants to tell me or how scared she is to say it. I need to get across these things before we discuss anything more. Those things that fear forgets to mention. That those things are true now and will remain true when we are finished. That fact is more important than anything she could say to me.

I hum a comforting tune I used to sing Sweetie Belle to sleep when she was younger while stroking her back. If I hope to distance myself from the Rarity who scares her, I should be nothing like her. Not loud, demanding, callous; but quiet, slow, intimate. So long as I can comfort her and keep her mind away from fear, they won't speak.

It takes a long time for her reciprocate in any fashion, but when I feel the muscles in her back relax and her breathing becomes less erratic, I know I'm making progress. "Are you afraid of me, sweetheart?" I ask her.

She buries her face in my neck. She's still shivering, unwilling to speak.

"Does your fear embrace you like this? Does fear care about how you feel? What that Rarity says means nothing; she was made only out of fear and anxiety, and that must mean she knows about nothing else but how to scare and appeal to that fear and anxiety. She knows nothing about joy, kindness, or affection. I know you're afraid, Fluttershy. But I promise that we'll chase your fears away." Again, I resume my humming while she takes in my words and affection.

I lose count l how many times I go over the same tune while holding her, but eventually, she takes her head from my neck. I loosen my arms but don't take them off her body, letting us see each other's eyes again. Hers are facing down. Her voice, when she finally brings it to life, is small and warbling. "N-no," she says, answering all my questions. "I'm afraid . . . I'm afraid that . . ."

"That you'll lose me?" I finish quietly.

She shivers and squeezes her eyes shut, which is all the answer I need. I think back to something not-Rarity said and turn it on its head before echoing it back. "Do you know for how long we've been dating? Three months, yes, but years as the best of friends. Do you think, after all that time, I would forsake you so easily? What could possibly do that?"

Shakily, Fluttershy looks back up, but her eyes gravitate to focus over my shoulder on the only other creature I know to be with us.

I block her line of sight with my own face. "Look at me, sweetheart. Do not let your fears speak another word to you. She is not me, and she does not know the answer. She does not love you."

Fluttershy can only stand to look in my eyes for a few seconds before looking down again. "It's stupid," she mumbles.

"Nonsense. Something that would cause my marefriend such distress and so many nightmares is anything but stupid," I say, lifting her face with my hoof. "I don't want you to have nightmares about this. I don't want you to make monsters of your own mind because you think something terrible might happen if you tell me."

I point to the specter behind me, but I don't look at her; she doesn't deserve the honor. "Would you really rather be tortured, night after night, by that thing that makes your worst fears come true—" I move my hoof to her cheek and caress it gently "—or would you rather talk to me about them?"

She looks at my hoof before looking back to me. Her eyes glisten with moisture, and her lower lip trembles. I blink once, and she's hugging my chest, her face against my coat.

Comments

[DragonPony]

This is interesting. And Rarity's moment with Shy is sweet. I liked what she said..... I fear tho that she is speaking without truly knowing what the problem is. I know Shy is scared of losing her, and Rarity think that can never happen. But lets be real here and I might have FULLY missed the mark here. But I can't help but think Rarity ISN'T physically attracted to Shy. She love her as a pony, for who she is and how she make her feel and all of that. But as a MARE.... she just isn't attracted deep down to a mare. And that is a HUGE road block for a couple. It isn't like they are in their golden years were sex isn't something they think about. No they are like in their late 20s or so and they want to be intimate. But, and like I said I could be all wrong here, there is a party who just isn't attracted to the other and want to be intimate with them.

[Infamous Paradox]

Not bad for a chapter, but I a felt little lost, one-moment Rarity is dreaming, the next it is Fluttershy's nightmare about herself and Mean-Rarity where the real one shows up yet it still Rarity's nightmare unless she pulled an inception that made it a bit hard to follow.

9174572
From the timeline that we got from this chapter, they have been dating for a little over 3 months but they have been friends for years. You do bring a point that in the previous chapter I have and still question about on Rarity's choice of words in one or two of the paragraphs.

[DragonPony]

9174649
Yea it is just something that has been itching at me with this story. I mean from what we have seen Rarity just didn't seem all that comfortable with being intimate with Shy. And even from the last story, the one with Spike, she seem to talk more about how Shy made her feel than being just plainly attracted to her. And Shy being who she is so WOULD pick up on the fact her beloved isn't physically attracted to her like she is with her. And that would make her fearful of losing her big time.

[zx29b]

>"I can assure you, milady
And my mental image of him immediately gained a fedora, acne, and a black-and-yellow t-shirt. Also a waifu pillow.

[Steel Resolve]

9174572

9174649

9174674

It's a problem. Shy had just barely shown Rarity that she was capable of ignoring the physical form of her lover (Rarity is as straight as an arrow in this story.) The problem is that having failed utterly a few times prior to managing it once Rarity is still a little gun-shy. They still haven't hit upon the obvious answer of sex toys, Rarity is still too focused on the idea of oral as the end all be all of lesbianing. Once they settle down and find a catalog things will be better, especially since Rarity could conceivably move several objects at once making for some really intense experiences and Shy can do all sorts of fun things to Rarity with feathers. That and let's face it, when you get horny enough I imagine being mounted with a strap on wouldn't be appreciably different, and in fact could be a better experience because your partner is paying attention to your every tiny moan to give you the best time possible.

[DragonPony]

9176067
That is very true and could be where they go. But I think that is putting kinda a band-aid on the issue. I mean isn't the core of the problem that Rarity isn't attracted to Mares. Your suggestion would be great if like a stallion lost his junk or something but this is really digging into the core of them as ponies, lol. That is like saying a straight guy can do a gay guy if he is holding a flesh light. If the one party is lacking that natural attraction to the other than they wont feel horny with them. They would be forcing themselves to be intimate with them and that just make it seem like more of work than a expression of love between two ponies, lol. I think they really need to work this shit out, if they can come to a kind of peace with their feelings honestly. If they can do that I can really see your suggestion be a good fix for the two of them.

[Steel Resolve]

9176249

That is like saying a straight guy can do a gay guy if he is holding a flesh light.

Well, no, it's like saying it's possible to pleasure someone without being engaged in the sex act yourself. And I'm sure Rarity would be more than happy to see Shy satisfied without worrying about whether the act itself turned her on.

If the one party is lacking that natural attraction to the other than they wont feel horny with them.

The body is really weird like that. Yes, attraction helps, but you can still get horny and feel pleasure even if your partner is not your type, or even your gender preference. Granted, it's a lot easier if attraction is present. Rarity just needs to find traits in Shy she finds desirable and that should take care of a lot of the mental hangups.

They would be forcing themselves to be intimate with them and that just make it seem like more of work than a expression of love between two ponies, lol.

Sometimes a relationship is like that. One person isn't feeling it but the other is, and they give it the old college try. That's an expression of love as well.

[Taialin]

9174649
You got the gist of it. She more or less vacated her own dream and ran into Fluttershy's. There's more elaboration on exactly what happened in a future chapter.

9176249
You bring up a very good point, and given that it's the crux of conflict, it's something that is addressed in this series (though this story alone might not tie up all the loose ends). I'd recommend reading Lust if you haven't already; it provides a different perspective on this exact conflict line.

And to you and 9179638, I think I have to play a little buzzkill police and remind you that this story is T-rated. Lesbianing is all well and good, but you might want to spoiler-tag the saucier bits. Sorry!

[Steel Resolve]

9179806
No worries, Tai. You can actually have some pretty frank discussions about sexuality even on a teen rated story, but I don't mind toning back the discussion from T to YT if it makes you more comfortable. I think the current discussion is over, however. We'll see what the next chapter prompts.