Love from a Stone

by Short-tale

Chapter 7: An unmovable object

Sleepless hours passed, and Limestone finally decided to just ask. It wasn’t fair that she had to lay there wondering all night; not when the answer was in her own bed.

Limestone climbed the steps to the next floor. She reached the top and heard some strange mumbling—Spitfire was talking in her sleep again. That gave the mare exactly the excuse she needed: The pegasus had already said to just wake her up if she started doing that again. All Limestone had to do was not let the pegasus go back to sleep until she answered the question.

That sounded right. It was justified.

Limestone opened the door to her own room and found the captain sprawled out on her bed as before. This time there was a large grin on her face, and the lighting in the room didn’t make her look cute, but beautiful. Limestone knew beyond doubt that this was the mare she wanted. But first, something had come in between them, and she needed to get it out of the way.

She crept in and received a snort and a grunt from the room’s occupant. She crept closer and words met her ear. The pegasus looked up at her with unfocused eyes as she approached.

“Why is the farm pony so dense?” the sleeping pony asked.

“What?!”

“Why can’t she see the real reason I’m here?”

Limestone took a step back in suspicion. “Why are you really here?”

“I think I’m her special somepony. But she hasn't seen it yet.”

Limestone gasped. She was the special somepony! And she knew! Why wouldn’t she say it? Why did she go through all those exercises, if she’d thought the whole time that they should be together? And why was Limestone running out of room as fast as her legs could go?

The book! Why didn’t the book say anything? Why didn’t Pinkie warn her?! Her disobedient legs took right to the table and flipped through it hurriedly. As she opened the next page a small explosion rang through her ears and echoed through the empty kitchen. Streamers and confetti rained out of the book somehow.

“Congratulations,” it read. “If you two made through this course, you are now each other’s special someponies. Surprise! You have all you need to know for a good beginning.”

Pinkie did know. Limestone backed away from the table and bumped into the wall. It was too good to be true. Too convenient. It was what Limestone wanted, and she never got what she wanted. She couldn’t trust it. It had to be a trick, a prank.

Limestone needed answers. She needed the truth. The light from Holder’s Boulder gleamed through the window. She stomped her way to the front door. Holder’s Boulder would know who it called; she had to ask it.

The storm buffeted her mane and blew it into disarray. She didn’t care. She stepped out the front door, closing it behind her. The glowing landmark lit the area so brightly that she could see clearly through the dust and darkness.

One hoof in front of the other, she plodded her way forward. The sand began to grind her skin. The wind made each step hover slightly and fall short of its intended target, but the mare pushed on. Nothing would stop her. The nicks and cuts on her hooves and flanks burned like fire. The storm growled in its fury, and Limestone growled back. Her teeth ground and her shoulder rolled forward in defiance.

The short walk seemed to take an hour. Her eyes stung from walking into the wind, but she refused to turn her head or move her gaze from the stone. Her muscles burned, and screamed at her that this was suicide. She politely told them to shut the fuck up. The stone was right there, just ten steps away. She could feel her legs beginning to buckle. The wind tore at her. A thousand cuts tore open on her flanks. Her teeth felt polished by the grit, and she couldn’t breathe through her sand-caked snout.

Holder’s Boulder had been a friend to her. It was always there: unchanging, unflinching. Her hooves touched the stone as she fell in front of it. She looked at the scarred surface of her oldest friendship, and allowed it to happen again: She had to feel. She had to know.

She had always felt the rock. No pony believed her back then, but this stone had feelings. Deep, intense feelings. She connected to it as she used to do. Memories rushed back to her, times when she’d been picked on for talking to stones. She’d tried to tell them that it wasn’t stones, it was just the one; but that hadn’t mattered to them.

She could feel the boulder reach back to her. The tears formed on her eyes from the strain and the feelings flooding her: pain, loss, sadness, loneliness, anger. All the emotions she’d given to the stone. Holder’s Boulder gave them back.

“Whyyy?” she pleaded through her dust covered teeth. “Who… who did you send me?”

Now the stone felt pride, and beamed at its achievement. It had searched far and wide over the past few years. Every time Limestone had come to it, yearning for something she barely understood, the stone searched. With every tear she placed in its cracks, it had searched for the solution.

It didn’t have arms to hold her. It didn’t have lips to kiss her. It needed somepony that did, so it found her. It found her, and in its excitement it brought her here the only way it knew how.

Could Limestone accept these gifts that the stone couldn’t give her itself? Could she let the rock that lived in her heart beat for joy instead of sorrow?

Holder’s Boulder wanted her to. It wanted its friend to do all the things that ponies like her did. It wanted her to love, to feel, to bring joy to the farm. The boulder had helped her sisters, and now it wanted to help Limestone—its most precious friend of all. Could she find peace with the boulder’s choice?

“I… I hope so,” she murmured. “I’ll try. And… and nothing can stop me! She will know how I feel, and nothing will stop me from accepting her!” the defiant mare shouted at the wind, sand and stone. Then darkness followed. Her body told her that it was done; that her shenanigans had gone far enough.

***
The world turned. Dreams of gods shaping stone, and loving their creations. Ponies that were so massive the earth shook as the mountains formed.

Holder’s Boulder was born of fire and pressure in an egg of soil. Then it emerged, its surface bright and gleaming. The wind played with it, and welcomed it to the surface.

Animals and trees began to appear. The boulder could feel each life force, and it was content. The stone’s surface was strong; it didn’t mind the cracks it received or the chips it lost over the years. Such was the price of interaction.

Then ponies began to gather around it. They carved names, wishes, and prayers into its surface. They taught the stone about hopes and dreams. They taught it love: the deepest form of connection, the truest act of selflessness.

The rock carried that message to all that passed by. Though they didn’t understand it, they still felt it. Ponies began to change. They no longer saw the way of nature; they saw the way of each other. Of reminding each other of that love. The rock was happy with that. As long as it could feel the energy, it fueled their search. Now it had brought that feeling again, more directly than ever before.

Limestone saw all of this in an unconscious instant. Then she felt her weakened body lifted off the ground. The strongest hooves imaginable dragged her across the dirt. They belonged to a dark form in a cloak. Those yellow hooves dug into the earth, fighting against the wind. The cloaked figure’s mouth unleashed a string of obscenities that made the farm mare melt inside.

“Are you a fucking idiot?! What were you thinking? Why did you have to go out in the middle of the night to see your friend in a sandstorm?”

Each sentence burned with a soft fury. Limestone wasn’t being yelled at, she was being scolded. Like a loved one would do for her. She couldn’t be happier.

“I… had... to know,” she finally sputtered out with a cough of dust.

“Know?! Know what?”

“Who Holder’s Boulder sent.”

“I knew you were dense, but I didn’t think you were fucking stupid.”

“I had to know who you were. A friend or… a marefriend.” The words were choked by a fresh layer of dust that coated her tongue. She felt the stairs to the farm house under her rump, then she was painfully dragged up each one. However, that pain was nothing compared to the question that hung in the air, lingering despite the strong wind.

“Do you really think your magical stone would do all this just for a friend?”

Before Limestone could comprehend what that meant, she was pushed through the door of the home and the storm was shut outside.

The dark-cloaked figure threw the darkness aside and gleamed yellow in the lamplight. She shone like some magical being of grace and beauty. Then the glamorous creature lowered its head inches from Limestone’s face. “If you ever fucking do that to me again, I will murder you! You will be dead! All your bones will be broken, and you’ll end up in a full-body cast drinking through a straw! Do I make myself clear?!”

“Yeah, I hear you.” The slumped form on the floor said. Her cuts were bleeding, and the sand was stinging her eyes. That’s why they were leaking. Definitely not any other reason.

“What the fuck made you go out there anyway?!”

“You…”

“Me?!”

“You said I was your special somepony. In your sleep,” whispered the jelly-legged mare. “Then Pinkie’s book said we were a couple.”

“Huh. Well, I…” the gleaming yellow form took on a shade of red that increased its brilliance. Together, the two colors shone like the sun itself. “I realized that a while back, but I didn’t know what to do about it. I didn’t know how you’d react. It made sense with the whole boulder thing, but I was hoping that you would figure it out. And that you’d want me too. But you never did. Are you really that dense?”

“I’m not used to getting what I want, so I normally don’t want anything,” Limestone explained. “But you… you were something I couldn’t not want. But I didn’t think you would actually want me.”

“That’s because you’re dense. I gave you the nickname Hot Stuff, for fuck’s sake.”

Limestone tried to get to her hooves, but they rejected the ground. They thought she was fine right where she was. “I’m fucked up. My body’s pretty beat.”

“You didn’t even grab a storm cloak, you asshat!”

“Now who’s being insulting?”

“If I can’t insult my marefriend, who can I insult?” Spitfire said with a sly smirk.

“Just because I can’t get up doesn’t mean I’m going to take that lying down,” shouted Limestone with an angry weak hoof in the air.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed. We’ll clean you up in the morning,” the pegasus said, looking away so the increased redness didn’t show. It did anyway.

“Will you kiss me goodnight, Cherry Mare?” A shit-eating grin accompanied that challenge.

“Alright, Hot Stuff, if you weren’t so beat up you might have gotten more than a goodnight kiss. And you might have had to change my nickname.” The Wonderbolt didn’t look at her captive as she helped her up the stairs.

“Who said I was talking about that? Your face is cherry red, Cherry Mare. The nickname stays! And I don’t think I’m ready for it all… yet,” Limestone admitted. “We have time. But if you’re offering that kiss, and maybe some more snuggling, I’m taking it.”

“Of course I am, fuckhead,” snickered the giddy pegasus.

The bed was nice and warm, and covered in yellow feathers. It was like a nest. Limestone found it irresistible.

She let the other mare drape her forehooves over her, then she felt those fiery lips meet her own. Strangely, that fire put out her own, and soon she was asleep.

***
The door opened and hoofsteps filled the home. One of Limestone’s ears turned towards her door. Voices crowded around each other and created a murmuring din. It wasn’t long before she heard those hoofsteps leaping up the stairs.

She didn’t care what any of them thought. She wasn’t moving.

“Hey, Limey, guess what? Guess what? The Choosing Stone refused to choose without yo—“ The sound of Pinkie’s voice cut short with the sound of her door opening. “Well, it’s about time you two got together. Sheesh, I wrote that book ages ago!”

Comments

[stag the story teller]

I agree with you on that pinkie

[Thyrrnatf]

couldn't agree more pinkie

[daOtterGuy]

Howdy, hi!

A review from the mansion to you.

[Stinium_Ruide]

Hey, a review for you in the Cove!

[Jamming]

I really enjoyed reading this. Such a rare ship to find stuff about.
I think you nailed their personalities which is a pretty tricky thing to do. Only wish it was longer

[PacifistDoodl3r]

“Hey, Limey, guess what? Guess what? The Choosing Stone refused to choose without yo—“ The sound of Pinkie’s voice cut short with the sound of her door opening. “Well, it’s about time you two got together. Sheesh, I wrote that book ages ago!”

I giggled like mad here.

Yeah, this one was great! I think it may be my favourite like I've said but it's a little disappointing how their relationship was... all planned out apparently, although I did find that funny. It made it seem as if it random chance had nothing to do with their relationship. Holder’s Bolder also maintaining some sentience takes away from the mystery about it. Obviously it's an unborn dragon, crystalized in an egg but I liked the air of mystery about it. Ok, that nitpick was petty. But that's because this one's my favourite. Limestone is such an interesting character and I now ship her with Spitfire