Icebergs

by shortskirtsandexplosions

That confident and... uhm... nice mare who treats me like a priceless doll

Rainbow Dash is gone, and everything is just... quiet. I like quiet. Quiet is nice.

I close the door softly behind her. I am alone with the gentle stirring of my furry friends. Oh, how I adore their silent pattering movements and humble munching sounds. There are so many precious creatures in this world and not enough ponies with the time and patience to take care of them appropriately. I have spent so many long years trying to change that, and every time I see my animal companions' smiling faces and wriggling whiskers—like right now—it makes it all worth it. Life is so peaceful and precious, so long as you have the tranquility to sit back and cherish it. Yes, I do so very much enjoy quiet.

I hum a simple melody as I go about my chores. The quiet isn't so much disturbed as it takes on a new shape. I sing in order to praise silence, not to shatter it. My friends couldn't possibly be happier. They prance all around me. With food in their soft tummies, they crawl into the nooks and crannies of the place and curl up to sleep, smiling, listening to my voice. There are ponies who say that I am not talkative; that couldn't be further from the truth. I simply like to speak in a harmonious voice that isn't meant for equine ears.

Oh... Oh dear. That sounded rather boastful, didn't it? I'd better be careful, there. I don't want to be too full of myself. There's no reason for my head to get so big, after all.

I don't realize how much time has passed until I look up from mopping the floor and see the short hand of my clock striking the number four. Oh goodness, I really do let myself get swept away in... sweeping don't I? Maybe if I sang less, time would go slower. Just what was I planning to do with my afternoon? Dinner is with the girls in about four hours. I usually need at least two hours to meditate and compose myself before I'm ready to go to a scheduled dinner. Rainbow Dash says all the time that she tends to get out of her bed—er, her cloud—about ten minutes before reporting to the weather fliers' office for morning duty. I really don't know how an adult pony can do that and get away with it. But, that's Rainbow Dash. She has everything together. And me? I can barely stand up straight half the time—

Eeep! Oh goodness! Oh goodness, what has just tapped my left leg?! I thought I was alone—Oh. "Oh, it's you, Angel." I exhale with relief and lean down to smile at my favorite furry friend. "Did you get some yummy lettuce in your tummy today like I asked you to?"

He's frowning at me. He seems to like doing that a lot lately. Well, uhm... okay, now he's tapping his foot against the floorboard and motioning with his paw.

"What is it, Angel?" I shuffle across the room after his bouncing, white figure. "Is there something wrong with your bed?"

As he brings me over to the tiny mattress, he flings the small duvet off and stretches the fabric out before me with an angry expression. Oh, I really don't like it when he's upset. Half the time, I can't even understand why.

"Do you not like your blanket?" I ask, my eyes swarming over the illustrated carrot patterns. "Does it need to go through another wash? I rinsed and dried it just yesterday..."

He stomps his foot again, frowns with a bucked tooth, and points at a gaping hole in the center—Oh! Oh my. That's a very large tear in the fabric indeed.

"How did this happen?" I ask as I take the duvet from him and run my hooves over its torn shape. "Moths? Parasprites? Pinkie Pie?"

He merely frowns and folds his upper arms impatiently.

I can already feel my blush coming along. It's terrible to turn red and not be able to do anything about it. I hope someday that I'll overcome that. But, it's very hard to, I suppose.

"Well, of course I will get this fixed for you," I say. "But the problem, Angel, is that I don't have all of my sewing tools with me at the moment. I lent them to Twilight last week. I... suppose I could ask for them all back, or go into town to buy some more..."

Suddenly, my blush is delayed, because the next breath that comes from me is the happiest I've felt all day. Oh, yes. Yes, of course. I know what to do. I know what to do and it is the most delightful thing imaginable.

"B-but I know a pony in town who would be more than able to fix this!" I say. It sounds like a squeak. Angel hears it, and all he can do is run a defeated paw across his nose. "Oh. Uhm. Don't worry. I promise not to stay there... too long..."

I guess I should be waiting for Angel's response. I should be making sure that he's conveyed all he wants to me. He can get so temperamental when I don't do things to his perfect specifications. But I'm feeling daring, I suppose. That happy breath that went through me is still carrying me around, like a balloon made out of smiles and giggles and sighs—the good ones, at least. Soon, I've slipped the damaged duvet in a saddlebag and am trotting away from the cottage.

It's already the late afternoon, and yet the sun feels so nice and bright. Oh, what a delightful little town I live in, right on the edge of the country, where the wilderness is not too wild and civilization is... just civil enough, I suppose. I really am lucky, but not half as much as I am cheerful... cheerful to be crossing the lengths of town, cheerful to be trotting up to the Boutique doorstep, cheerful to be ringing the doorbell and sitting down, waiting for her spotless face and elegant voice.

Waiting... Waiting... Waiting...

And, like white sails over the ocean horizon, she drifts into view. I am already smiling. There's such an alabaster sheen to her coat, so immaculate and spotless, and yet she looks at me as if I'm the priceless pony made out of porcelain, and not her.

"Fluttershy, darling! What an exquisite delight! What brings you to my Boutique this fine afternoon?"

I bite the tiniest edge of my inner lips. She called me 'gorgeous!' She called me 'gorgeous!' She called me...

"Oh, uhm... H-Hello, Rarity." No. Don't be natural. You are so weak and clumsy when you act natural. "Ahem. Greetings." Be assertive. She tells you that you must work on that all the time; if you act like your normal self, she will feel as though you have dismissed all of her hard coaching. "Would you—erm—be so kind as to fix this hole I found in Angel's blanket just now?" Hold your breath. Hold it. Oh please, hold it. I know what's going to happen if you don't hold—"Erm, that is, if y-you don't mind, and if it's not getting in the way of your preparations for the get together tonight." I am grimacing. How would I not be? Fluttershy, you just can't do anything right around her, can you?

And yet, Rarity is gracious. Rarity is genuous. Rarity is simply smiling at me "Oh, but of course, Fluttershy! Anything for you and your charming animal acquaintances." She gives a tiny, flighty chortle, and that's how I know—as I always know—that she is not laughing at me, like most ponies, but at the words she chooses so daintily to dab my ears with. I realize that this is a unicorn who loves the artistic details in life, and it delights me that she so ardently shares them with me. "Do come in, dearie. You are always welcome in my work room."

I trot in through her door, trying not to faint from all the sweet smells and perfumes of her life swirling down to caress me. I feel my heart beating, for I know that I am about to see a fabulous new dress and hear about Rarity's latest exploits in fashion. For the life of me, I can't pretend to know which I look forward to the most. To keep from collapsing, I take a huge breath and try to speak solidly, "It is just so... nice in here." Oh goodness, do I truly, only know that one word?

"I'm glad you think so, darling. It's even nicer when you're around," she says with a blue-shadowed wink. Rarity closes the door and trots gaily ahead of me. "A boutique's elegant trimmings means nothing unless there's a lady of refinement inside who earns the attention. I've said it before and I'll say it again, you're the finest mare I've ever had the opportunity of complementing with my threads."

"Mmmm..." I do all I can to keep my vocal cords still. I'm feeling the redness forming beneath my skin already. I will be a living beet in less than ten minutes, I'm guessing.

Why does Rarity do this to me? Why does she say such things? All my life, I never felt so special, so cherished. And then I met her, and suddenly it was like I had become an angel. I know I don't deserve it. I really don't. The only reason ponies do and say special things like this is if the subjects of their attention mean something special to their lives. So then, what have I done for Rarity? How is it that I became such a close friend to her so easily, as if I didn't even need to try? Is it just her generosity? But, then, how does a pony donate emotion? And even if that was true, why hasn't she spent as much time and given as much attention to the likes of Twilight or Applejack? Now those, we all know, are good and deserving ponies.

I just... I just do not understand. But then, she looks at me from where she stands behind a silken purple gown laced with mahogany ribbons. With a single smile thrown my way, I realize that I do not have to understand, because this is Rarity, and Rarity means... the whole world to me.

"This is the latest ensemble I am working on," Rarity says with a proud smirk. It's next to impossible to tell where her snow white face ends and her pearlescent teeth begin. "You're the first pony to see it, of course. I rarely trust the taste of most of my friends to see a project before it is finished, but yours I can always take a healthy dosage of, dear. So... Hmmm?" She leans towards me, fluttering her lashes like no other mare can do. "What do you think of it so far?"

"Oh, Rarity, it's... it's..." I see her, I can smell her. If I leaned forward slightly, I might even inhale her. I realize that I should be commenting on her dress right now, but I fear that I will not be very objective. But that matters little. It's Rarity's work, and everything she touches turns to threaded gold. I know this, and I believe in this. The universe needs no other constant. "It is so very pretty. I like your color choice. It gives the gown a very... exotic mystique."

"Eeee..." She squeals like a little filly, the tiniest of disturbances in her elegant exterior. We are all squirming, anxious little foals deep inside, and Rarity's soul is the cutest of all, especially since she goes to such lengths to hide it. It feels sometimes as though she's given herself an unnecessarily difficult exercise, to try so hard with every ounce of her being to be something more refined and aristocratic than she truly is. I do not find her endeavors to be comical, not in the least. I am so incredibly inspired by her confidence, her poise, her fearless respect for herself first and foremost.

I... I could certainly use that confidence. I know it, and I know that she knows it. Just spending time with me is the greatest act of generosity she can bestow, because ever so slowly—one glorious day after another—she is helping me to understand confidence, because she is helping me to understand her.

"I am glad that you approve of it, darling," she says, speaking of a dress that I must have looked at centuries ago before absorbing myself in the blue shine of her eyes. "I've been laboring ever so delicately over the past week to perfect it. If I may be so bold to say so, I do believe this may be my finest single work yet!"

I want to tell her that she is absolutely right, and yet absolutely wrong. The finest work is our friendship, an artistic masterpiece that she deserves full claim to, because Rarity ever so gently reached her hoof out to me—like a dancer—and ignored all the cloudy shades of my anxious aloofness to bring me into the light of her radiance. I want to tell her how much it means to me that I mean so much to her. I want to tell her how I no longer go to sleep in tears, woeful over the lonely breaths that the next morning would bring. I want to tell her that I've found reasons to smile when beforehand I could only sigh and wonder when my life would change, would become as splendid as it is now, so sparklingly brilliant, like how her words have polished the jaded surfaces of my heart.

But I can't tell her all these things. No, I can't put such a burden of knowledge on her. She is her own mare, and I am simply her best friend. She would surely be distraught by the degree to which I have thought about and fixated on her. No... There's no need to complicate her life so much. After all, she isn't looking for more from me than I've already provided. She has her career. She has her dreams and aspirations. She has... mmm... the st-stallion of her dreams that she is hoping will someday sweep her off her hooves.

"Oooh! Ideaaaa!" Rarity chimes, shaking me from a stormy stupor. "You are just the perfect size for a gown such as this, Fluttershy!" Her eyes curve from the rise of her smiling lips as she leans towards me. "Would you be so kind as to model it for me? Only for an hour or so? It would help me put the finishing touches on it, and your figure is simply too perfect for me to let pass by! Nopony else would do!"

"Oh Rarity..." I pretend to be shy about it. Normally, I don't have to fake humility, but around Rarity, I can't help but feel a little... mmm... selfish, I suppose. After all, I just wish to see the look. I will do anything, if only to get the look. "I couldn't possibly expect to wear such an exquisite gown! It's far too delicate for me. What if I accidentally tear it?"

"Too delicate for you, Fluttershy?! Oh, perish the thought! You are nothing less than a graceful angel!" And then she does it. She gives me the look, that desperate, pouting, pleading look. It is now that I know that there's a priceless niche in her life, and it was as though I was born to fit inside it. I don't think it's possible to feel more special, more lucky, more... confident? Yes. Yes, I am so very confident to be here for Rarity now.

"Alright, Rarity. If you insist..." I exhale, as if I had been holding my breath for the past hour just to reach this moment.

"Eeee-heee-hee!" She squeals, again with the breath of that tiny, happy foal hidden beneath her purple mane. "Oh thank you! Thank you, darling! You have absolutely saved my work! I truly, truly mean it! Here, let me take that from your hooves..."

Her horn glows, and she lifts Angel's blanket from my grasp. I had entirely forgotten that I was holding it until just now. What a silly little excuse to use as a ticket to reach this heaven.

"Hmmm—A simple tear," she remarks while examining the duvet up close. "A seamstress such as myself could patch this up in grade school whilst wearing a silken blindfold." She gives a flippant laugh. The sound of it is so rich, so proud, so deliciously arrogant. I instantly envy her. "But of course I will tend to this with the utmost care and professional attention!" She waves at me as she trots towards the opposite end of the Boutique where her sewing machine lies. "Allow me to get started. In the meantime, why don't you try on the gown? Don't feel as though you must hurry, darling. We have quite some time before the reception at Sugarcube Corner, after all."

"Okay..." I can never speak much when I am around her, and yet I can never say enough. The very moment I think of a complicated expression of endearment, my lungs give out. It's a great deal easier simply to do what she says, especially when she asks so politely, so gently, so lovingly. I treat the dress with just as much amorous caution, slipping my limbs and hooves in as if I'm about to wear the most fragile of clouds. I take as much time and care as she would want of me. Time goes by slowly, and even slower as I hear her hooves returning. Then, with a delightful gasp, she coos my way—

"Ooooh, how fabulous! I can tell already that this gown is going to be breathtaking!" She smiles as her eyes fall into a thin, ocean-blue stare. "Of course, it's hard to have a truly discerning eye when the model herself is simply so dazzling..."

"Uhm... I-I'm sorry," I say almost immediately, wincing at myself for doing so.

"Ohhhh puh-lease," she says with a roll of her eyes and a wave of her hoof. "You really must accept compliments more, Fluttershy. I swear, sometimes I don't know how long I must continue gushing until you do." Another flighty giggle, and she's tugging me gently onto the top of a circular stage.

"Who is the dress for?"

"Oh, erm..." She fidgets the edges of her cheek catching aflame for the briefest of moments. With a deep breath, she chortles and waves her way past the thought. "An acquaintance, darling, nothing more. Sometimes I think that the destination of a true work of art is not nearly as fabulous as the lengths one sews to bring it into fruition. But 'tis neither here nor there. I'd much rather relish how lucky I am to be blessed with your priceless assistance right now..."

"Uhm... Okay..." I speak, and then I speak no more, for this is not my moment. This is Rarity's, now and forever. The Boutique has turned into a theatre, and the show consists of her soliloquies, beautiful and elaborately woven tapestries of the most resplendent life in all of Ponyville, if not Equestria itself. I hear her talk of affluent circles of ponies she's crossed paths with in Canterlot. I hear of the horrendously vicious gossip that plagues the fashion scene, of rich celebrities both snobby and altruistic, of charity auctions and fashion shows and cocktail parties. I hear about ridiculously silly commissions she's had to sew for, outrageous customers she's had to endure, and all the beautifully generous plans she has for her friends, including me.

"And so I was thinking of a thick, woolen ensemble," Rarity says. "For when winter arrives and you wish to be donned in something that is more practical than ornate. Though, with your dainty features, dear, I'm more than certain that you can make any coat of utility look like a royal gown. Hmmm-heeheehee."

She speaks while she orbits around me, shuffling on dainty white hooves, putting the finishing touches on the gown wrapped about my weak body like a silken cocoon, or a fancy ribbon of a Hearth's Warming gift. I feel like I am her little present to herself, a treasure indulged in by the angel of generosity, and it fills me with such joy and awe that no matter how much I try and compliment her in my mind, she only dwarfs it with how much she selflessly praises me out loud, with beauty and grace that I can only ever hope to bravely mimic someday.

"And so," Rarity continues. "Once I am finished with the wintry coats, I have to start working on a rather daunting project. You see, Sapphire Shores has written to me yet again. Eeee!—Yes! We are deeply close pen pals at this point! I am so incredibly lucky to be connected to the veritable hemispheres of such a pop culture icon! Ahem. Anyways, she wants me working on a new line of spring outfits for her upcoming tour across western Equestria. So, in honor of her opening concert in Las Pegasus, I thought of emulating the desert motifs of Appleloosa. I sketched a simple design and shared it with her! And do you know what Sapphire Shores said?!"

"What did she say, Rarity?"

"She said that it brought a tear to her eye! Ah! Isn't that just amazing?! She wrote that she had lived part of her foalhood in a desert mining town, and something about the 'elegant simplicity' of my design brought back a wave of innocent nostalgia! She's already ordered five dresses based on my initial sketch alone! Can you believe it? I, Rarity, have impressed the sensational Sapphire Shores in a single pen-stroke! Just imagine how much of an impact I could have on the likes of such stars like Nicolt Kidmare or Gwen Stefilly, especially if Sapphire spreads news of my expertise with her valiantly conquered enthusiasm!"

"Oh Rarity," I exhale, smiling softly, breathing a little less so. "That is so... nice! I feel so happy for you!"

"Oh, it's more than nice, darling! It's felicitous! Rapturous! Mesmerizing! Sapphiric! Oh, blessed Celestia, I do believe I am running out of words!" She mocks fainting and teeters back on her rear legs, her face grinning beneath a pair of blue bifocals. I never knew it was possible to look so goofy and charming all at once. Rarity is a surprise that I never want to stop startling me. And... uhm... I don't say that about much. "I feel as though life simply keeps getting better and better, wouldn't you agree?"

I glance at her, and somehow I feel as if my eyes cannot match the warmth with which hers look at me. Perhaps this is all mere friendship to her. Perhaps I am just an object that she needs, like a foal needs a doll or an old mare needs a pet. Perhaps she will never know the degree to which this moment, this very breath and heartbeat, means more to me than all I have ever accomplished for myself ever. Perhaps someday, like a gust of wind, she will break from complimenting me, for she will have found her special somepony, and she will finally have been swept off her hooves in a way that I could never do for her.

But that is okay. Yes, it is alright. If there is any gift that I have, if there is any talent that I can hold dear to, it is my patience. That patience gives me hope, tells me that there is a deep-seeded reason to all of Rarity's generous comments that even she isn't aware of, but only because she has yet to wake up to it. And on the day that she experiences such an epiphany, she will learn that I had my own awakening ages ago, on the very afternoon that she first ever reached a hoof over to caress mine, only to touch my heart instead.

That is the day that I will tell you everything, Rarity. You will know how dearly I love you, with a love that is gentler and softer than what mere words can say, a love that knows how to smile in the shadows and be still in the daylight, for that love is anchored to you, shaped by you, and patched together by your delicate hooves whenever the brazen but brief claws of doubt try in vein to tear it asunder. That is a love that knows how to wait patiently for perfection, as a masterful artist is apt to design, and as a connoisseur of such a masterpiece is destined to respect. And you have made me, Rarity. Like a fine dress, you have sewn me into the luckiest connoisseur of all, for I am bestowed with your presence, your grace, and your charm like no other pony in the history of this world or the next. How can I ever, ever summon the strength to tell you how happy, thankful, and complete I feel?

"Hmmm?" Rarity has paused, fluttering her eyes at me, for several seconds have passed and still her answer hasn't been answered. "Don't you think so? That life only gets better and better, darling?"

"Oh... Oh yes... uhm... if you say so, Rarity." I give her my reply. It's the closest thing to a kiss that I will settle for.

And now my cheeks are finally red.

Comments

[Csquared08]

I'm really not sure how I feel about this. I mean, it's written very well, don't get me wrong. But at the same time... Romance...

[Ponky]

Oh, MAN! Be still my beating heart! My lungs are all a-flutter and my eyelids brim with tears!

This was ridiculously heartmelting! I don't know if I'm just high on Skirts right now, or if the late hour has something to do with it, but this chapter smacked me across the face with feeeeeels! Wow, that was weird. Maybe it's because I have similar feelings for Rarity... or maybe for Fluttershy at this point, I don't know... or for you, if we're being totally honest!

Gosh, that was killin' me. I was giggling like a schoolfilly, clutching my quivering ribcage and pawing on my own chin every couple of sentences. I loved the dialogue, I loooooved Fluttershy's inner voice, and... gosh, I don't know, I loved it all! That rocked me senseless, man!

And this made me laugh real hard: "It's felicitous! Rapturous! Mesmerizing! Sapphiric!" Oh, Skirts...

[Kai-Zr]

Man and that's just from the mind the time you double check before you say something.
If she talks or wrights this stuff down she'd make one hell of a writer or poet.

[Elzipper7]

"Fluttershy, darling! What an exquisite delight! What brings you to my Boutique this fine afternoon?"
I bite the tiniest edge of my inner lips. She called me 'gorgeous!' She called me 'gorgeous!' She called me...

No she didn't.