Love from a Stone

by Short-tale

Chapter 1: Frustration

Family is where one is supposed to feel safe. Accepted. Loved. Family is supposed to make one feel wanted. Well, this family failed.

Family? More like a fucking freak show.

Limestone looked at the ponies around the table. Their numbers had nearly doubled; it was some sort of couples’ celebration. Ma and Pa said the Choosing Stone had to bless all the couples of the family, because it helped foster a good relationship or something.

She didn’t care. At least not about this “couples” shit. She watched them all stare into each other’s eyes while she rolled hers.

“This is a glorious occasion,” Pa began. “We art truly blessed to have so many happy daughters. And those that love them art decent ponies. We hope the Choosing Stone brings happiness to ye all.”

Pinkie and Cheese released an explosion of confetti and streamers from somewhere.

Their constant cheer was unnatural and grating. Always on party mode. Did they have some sort of generator in their ass that gave them that energy? Or was it drugs? Limestone suspected drugs, but didn’t care enough to question them about it, because that would mean talking to them more.

Maud and Mudbriar sat as still as statues. Fuck, Limestone would have sworn she heard the sound of two rocks scratching against each other the few times she saw them kiss.

She shuddered at the thought. It was weird enough Maud found a boyfriend, but Mudbriar was beyond annoying. Every time she opened her mouth to have an opinion, he’d rip the sentence apart and correct her. She nearly bucked him in his fucking mouth a few times. She wondered why she hadn’t.

Maud. He made Maud happy. She wouldn’t mess with that, even if she had to sit there and take his constant corrections and inane observations.

Then there was Marble and Vinyl. Why couldn’t she take those fucking headphones off? Her baby sister needed to be listened to. She needed to be respected. That dumb DJ would just sit there, bobbing her head, while Marble barely spoke a word. They just knew what the other wanted. Marble talked even less now than she had with that fucking heart breaker Big Mac. Limestone would never forgive that dumb red fucker for he did to her.

That memory made her think of Vinyl and Marble’s drunken escapade. She wondered for the millionth time if Marble had been taken advantage of. But then, Vinyl was still around, so it seemed like there was a true connection between them.

Her attention turned back to her father’s dry words. He seemed to be actually beaming at them as he spoke. Well as much as he could. She noticed he never looked towards her. “We shalt depart on the morrow—” Limestone could hardly wait “—for now, enjoy thine company and feast. But first, thine food must receive a blessing.”

The table bowed their head in practiced obedience. Even Limestone wouldn’t dare break that tradition. She closed her mouth so that the others wouldn’t hear her teeth grinding; it was loud enough she didn’t even hear Pa’s words. The blessing of the Choosing Stone! That was a three day journey, and she would have to deal with this awful situation the entire time. Limestone actually longed for the days when she at least had Marble to keep her company. But Marble had Vinyl now, and that was all she talked about.

“The rock bless us all!”

The rest of the table echoed those words back to her father and then began to eat. Limestone looked down at the stone soup with disinterest, but dutifully filled her mouth with as sharp a stone as she could find.

The points jabbed into her teeth and stabbed her gums. It was painful; that was good. The pain gave her something more pressing to hate. She unleashed her fury on the stones in her mouth. Each piece broke along its cleavage in a satisfying crunch.

She glanced at the others. The looks on dinner guests’ faces always put a sadistic smile on hers—the uncomfortable wincing and dejected look of unsatisfied palates brought joy to the little pony’s heart. It was nice to know that at least she wasn’t the only one suffering in this fucked-up world.

But she wasn’t even allowed that small pleasure. These guests looked fucking merry as they enjoyed their meal.

Well, most of them. Mudbriar had no expression at all, which made sense; that pony was weird. Cheese had somehow covered his rocks in a candy coating, and was happily munching away. Even the newcomer, DJ Pon-Vinyl whatever, didn’t seem bothered at all.

The fury returned with a vengeance. She grumbled slightly to herself as she fished out another spiky specimen.

“Oh, Limey,” cried Pinkie, waving her hooves frantically, “don’t look so down! I’m sure you’ll find somepony.”

“Who says I need one?” Limestone spat. “I have the farm. And I don’t need somepony that will slow me down.”

“But-but, having some special pony makes the world shine! It’s like a vanilla and jalapeno cupcake that never gets any smaller, and each bite is just as delicious as the last.”

“Sounds boring. Wouldn’t you eventually want something else?”

“But vanilla jalapeno is the best! Why would a pony want something else? Ohh, unless it’s got chocolate. Then you can just get one with chocolate too. I want chocolate! Do we have any chocolate, Cheesy Peasy?”

Agh! Stupid cute pet names were the worst. “Cheesy Peasy”, “Pinkie Muffin, at least the other two couples didn’t talk like that. What was wrong with calling a pony by name? Or making them say your name? A slight smile appeared on Limestone’s face at that thought.

“Limestone!” barked Pa. “Eat the food that the rock has provided ye. Smiling upon it doesn’t provide thee nourishment.”

The soup filled Limestone’s mouth once more. Her smirk disappeared into a hard scowl. It was as natural as the way her mane fell around her face. She was the eldest, and still she was getting scolded like a foal. In front of the guests no less. She choked on the next mouthful as she fought the urge to overturn the table, but another stern look from Pa made the food listen to the muscles in her throat.

It wasn’t fair. She was the oldest. Just because some stupid special pony hadn’t been strong enough to handle her, she had to suffer. A montage of awful dates flashed through her mind: A collection of useless fuck-ups that had tried to get on her good side. Including that brother of Pinkie’s friend—that skeevy pegasus deserved the hoof to the head he got. She’d felt like a piece of meat in front of him. Stallions were the worst for that.

She’d tried to date a mare or two, but they always cried worse than the stallions.

The amount of fucking dates Pinkie had tried to set her up on flashed through her mind. Every Pie Sister Surprise Day they had, the little sister had brought a new “friend.” Somepony who was there to “help out,” or “learn the value of family,” or, “I accidentally ran this stallion over and broke his hoof. Can you take him to the hospital?”

Please. That stallion had been so fragile she could have crushed him by sneezing. All he did was cry about the bumps and being jostled the whole time.

All this talk about couples and special some ponies was fucking annoying. Where was it written that she needed anyone? Sure, the mighty Choosing Stone blessed couples that were brought to it and showed compatibility, but that didn’t mean every pony needed to have another. She was perfectly fine by herself.

She glanced at Marble quickly with that thought. Her fellow farm pony. Maud and Pinkie had left already, but Marble had stayed. Now she had the silly DJ to distract her. She was so tired of hearing about the rhythms of the music and the excitement of being the one the famous musician came home to. If love could take her best… her sister and make her into a pony like that, Limestone wanted nothing to do with it.

“Limestone,” the flat tones of Maud sailed across the table like a beam. One that didn’t move but struck you in the ear. “You bit the side of the bowl. It’s made of alabaster, which is not a type of rock you want to eat.”

Limestone looked down. A chunk was missing from her bowl where she had missed the soggy stone she had been aiming for. Her mouth was filled with a powdery, chalky taste of the hardened clay. She looked at Maud whose expressionless face simply stared back. She resumed chewing the crispy power in spite and swallowed it.

“Limestoneabelle Louise Pie!” shouted Pa. “Thou hast forsaken the stones of sustenance. Please go out and sit by Holder’s Boulder and think about your actions.”

Limestone slammed the table with her hooves and she got up in a huff. The rest of the occupants tried to ignore her. It was typical. She had feelings and the rest tried to sweep them under the table.

They betrayed her constantly. They did it everywhere. Whenever Limestone got a little heated outside the farm, the family would all move away from her. So much for having her back.

The dust shot up in large plumes as her hooves struck the earth. A dust cloud hung in the thick air. It was a trail from the house to the boulder that Limestone felt was a close friend. Her birthright. The only thing that didn’t shy away from her when she was angry. The stable rock that didn’t judge. It didn’t care if she had a special somepony or not. It didn’t care if she shouted, screamed, kicked it, or cried into its weathered form. It was always there for her. And she would always be there for it.

She looked at the small pockmarks and strange carvings etched across its face. It was something that Limestone always wondered about. Even Pa and Ma didn’t seem to know where the markings had come from; or, if they did, they kept it to themselves.

She had always imagined that this was a well-kept magic stone. If she could just unlock the cryptic runes, she could find that happiness that everypony was stuffing down her fucking throat. But the stone gave no answers, or at least none that Limestone could discern.

Sometimes she did get answers from things. Occasionally, she felt emotions from ponies and things around her like they were her own. But she found the intrusion only increased her agitation. If she was angry enough, she could shut them out.

A brush of sand and the steady plod of hooves on gravel alerted Limestone that Pa was coming. He always came after he scolded her. Sometimes he would reemphasize the dangers of defying tradition; other times it was to console her when she was justified but couldn’t express it right. She knew that she was on edge with all the merriment but couldn’t wind herself down.

“Limestoneabelle...” Pa’s voice came out in a gentle whisper. He used her full name. It was only used in moments like this. For scolding or a deeper connection. She didn’t look at him. She didn’t want to. She knew she didn’t do anything wrong. They were wrong. They were parading around their happy lives and leaving her out. But then, when she was there, it was worse.

“I know ye aren’t feeling well,” the voice behind her began. “This beith a hard time for thee. The stone hasn’t brought ye your mate. They are out there somewhere, still trying to get good enough for ye.”

Limestone turned. Her father was backlit by the lights of their home, but the stars illuminated his face. His normal frown was replaced with the faintest hint of a smile. His eyes were soft and caring.

“What makes you think I need one?” asked Limestone in a harsh whisper. The fight in her had fled. Pa could tell what was going on.

“Ye know ye don’t mean that. Everypony needs somepony to love. Be it stallion or mare, as long as they bring ye peace and company, they will be an honored guest in our home.”

Limestone could feel the anger turn on her. It betrayed her. It left her with the feeling of defeat and loss. It made her feel the sadness that always hid underneath. She tried to place a fresh application of agitation on it and kicked a stone. It brought her some comfort but not enough. The tears were there, threatening to descend. She tried to hide it but her father’s hoof caught her chin.

“I am thine father. I would not betray yer trust. Any emotions ye feel can be loosened upon the landscape. Just be mindful that yer sisters are happy now. Try to be happy for them.”

Limestone silently nodded. A single tear escaped her eyes. She caught it with her hoof and glared at it in protest. How dare it betray her. She slammed it into a nearby rock as a warning to others if they even thought of a similar act.

“Ye are hurting. So I hath decided to break tradition, which mine own father did not do for me: Ye do not have to go to the Choosing Stone with us. Ye can stay here and tend the farm. Look upon our land as your mate, and treat it with the care and kindness ye only show to it. One day it shall reward ye.”

Limestone stood there with her mouth hanging open. Breaking tradition? Pa? The stallion lived, ate, slept, and breathed the way of the stone. And he was breaking that sacred path by allowing her to stay. Should she agree? The idea of trudging miles land surrounded by her sisters and their mates sounded like fucking Tartarus itself. But it was tradition that all the family be present to see if the Choosing Stone gave its consent. Did she feel so uncomfortable that she would miss that just to avoid it?

“We leave early. Ye can rest. Find peace in the solitude of the stones,” Pa said as he turned to the farm house. “For now, please honor yer sisters’ happiness and return when ye can be respectful.”

Limestone leaned against the boulder and tried to catch her breath. Pa thought her feelings were important enough to break tradition. It was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her, and she was too shocked to respond. She weakly followed her father into the home.

“Feeling better, Limey? You look like you lost all the recipes for the cake you were trying to bake,” Pinkie asked as the wobbling mare entered.

All she could do was nod and flop to the floor. Her father looked at her and nodded. “In this house we think of each other. We put the family’s needs first. Limestone does not feel well, as ye can see by the color of her coat. Thus, she will stay home, and not accompany us to the stone. She will recover here.”

“What?!” cried the family almost in unison. Each voice shrill and grating except Maud’s. Her voice was more of a dull ache.

“But… but we’re all supposed to go,” whined Pinkie.

“How will Limestone know if the rock blesses us?” cried the soft voice of Marble.

“It’s tradition,” Maud flatly reminded them.

“Now, I admit yer father is breaking tradition,” said Ma in a soothing tone, “but he thinks of you fillies first. If Limestone be not well, then perhaps we should honor her wishes.”

“Well…” Pinkie said with a hoof to her mouth, “maybe we can go when Limey feels better.”

“Neigh,” said Pa with a dismissive hoof. “Ye all took time off from yer busy lives. I would not see thine time wasted. We shall go as planned, and Limestone will remain.”

Looks of sadness and pity cast themselves in Limestone’s path. Except from DJ Vinyl Pon; she didn’t have any look at all. Probably didn’t even hear Pa through her headphones.

Shame rushed to Limestone’s face and painted it a deep red hue. She hated that feeling. Why should she be made to feel it? She didn’t do anything wrong. It was them. But she felt it all the same.

“Our journey begins early,” Pa continued. “It would be best if thee all rest. Take thine places in thine beds that we have prepared. Take care to remember that the rock sees all. Let that sleep and calm take thee, and not fall into shameful acts. Good night, mine foals. Good night, honored guests.”

The couples began filing out. Pa had actually let each couple share a bed due to space constraints. It was better than the Pie sisters sharing a bed, but Limestone knew what awaited her: Her creepy old bed and lumpy mattress. It was the same every night. Its comfort had long worn off, but Limestone never complained about it. The bed would win if she did.

The bed creaked under the dense weight of the earth mare as she deflated into it. She wondered why the stone was so cruel. She had given the farm her all every day, yet the others got to live different lives with companions, while all she got was scolded and left behind.

She wished she knew what to do about the situation. Social mores were something she was naturally opposed to—the network of pony interactions was like a strange puzzle that Limestone didn’t have the pieces for. She hated playing games anyway.

She looked at her empty room. It looked back at her with nothing to give but support. No love, no feedback, just a tall monolith of emptiness. A tomb for her and her dreams.

What were her dreams? She used to think if she was just a good farm filly, things would go well. She would eventually have the kind of life her mother had.

But that had never happened. Besides, the more colts she met, the more they irritated her. It seemed hopeless.

Even those offending tears didn’t fear her anymore. They soaked into the misshapen pillow, and Limestone didn’t stop them.

Comments

[Short-tale]

10910522
Not sure if that is good or bad.

[PacifistDoodl3r]

Even those offending tears didn’t fear her anymore. They soaked into the misshapen pillow, and Limestone didn’t stop them.

I'm so glad I got to this one last. In the later entry, Limestone was harsh, as suspected, but finding out the fueled context after reading Returning Home feels rewarding. And, I do relate to her. All of my siblings are either in or were in good relationships while I'm— well, things don't work out for me. The power of fics: making me adore a character who I would've never thought to adore.