A Song Of Silk And Steel

by SilverNotes

Purpureus

In the following weeks, the Everfree Refuge had flourished, and Rarity stood in the middle of the thriving village with a smile.

Not just having become larger, as more shelters had been constructed, but the construction had grown more elaborate, in a very real meaning of the word grown. The mixture of earth pony, deer, and zebra magic had been coaxing the forest into ideal shapes for habitation, turning what had once been hastily-built shelters into true homes. There were a few flourishes made from magic amber, but only a few; it took time for deer to transform the carefully-harvested tree sap, and more importantly, they didn't want to compromise their camouflage with too much of its glow.

There had been a few more fires, but they'd been scattershot, placed with no rhyme or reason. It was clear that the swarm had no idea where they were and were hoping to get lucky in the efforts to smoke them out.

It was several days since the last attempt, one of the moments where the survivors here could almost forget. They mingled, they talked, they laughed, and foals and fawns chased each other in the chaos of childhood. Sweetie Belle was one of the ones who shied away from the rowdier games, but she'd found her place all the same, currently chatting with a pair of earth pony fillies, one silver and grey and the other purple and pink.

As for herself, Blackthorn had been shooting her glances more often as of late. Rarity was still considering whether she should start letting him catch her looking back.

She spotted Fluttershy heading toward her, from Zecora's home. She was freshly painted in the salve, and her saddlebags hung at her sides. Slowly, ponies started to peel off from what they'd been doing and followed, one by one, contented expressions fading away as the grim memory of their circumstances reasserted itself in the face of the task ahead.

Rarity let her own expression slide into grim determination as Fluttershy stopped in front of her, and she nodded. She would, of course, be accompanying them all. After all, it was her idea.

It was time to finally pay Ponyville a visit.

---

It'd been so long since any of them had seen unobstructed sunlight.

The canopy let in enough light to know what time of day or night it was, but there was a reason that the deer had been so fond of their amber lanterns, because even the noon-day sun would be shining through tiny gaps between branches. Those of the refuge had grown accustomed to the low light, and so, as they tried to take their first hoofsteps out of the tree cover, everypony's first instinct was to draw back again into the shadows.

Rarity thought they must have been quite the sight, huddled together at the edge of the trees, squinting at the light and looking like a family of rabbits hiding from the swooping talons of a hawk. It wasn't just the light, but the very thought of being out in the open, when the forest had been their protection for so long.

They'd all known it would be a risk. It'd taken days of gentle nudges, trying to help everypony gather their courage, trying to convince them to try. And yet here she was, standing there with them, belly practically to the earth as the sunlight jabbed at her eyes.

The first to move was Fluttershy. With the tiniest, steeling breath and, "...Okay..." she peeled herself off of the group, took one hoofstep after another into the sun, and Rarity's breath caught in her throat.

She'd thought she had understood their hues, in the forest. For some, she'd practically memorized them. But that had been when only dappled by sunlight. Fluttershy stood there, beneath the direct sun, every shade of yellow and pink that had been hidden now shimmering, and it was beautiful.

Rarity eventually shook herself out of her stun, and looked back at the rest of the huddle. "Well, we can't have dear Fluttershy hogging all of the sun, now can we?"

It was possible to forget how startlingly white her own coat was, and Rarity was almost ashamed at having done so. Yet even half-blinded by her own fur, she stepped out to join her friend. She closed her eyes, not against the glare, but so that she could raise her head and feel it all shining down. And the others followed, one by one, until they were a herd, standing in the grass, warmed by the rays, out where ponies belonged.

A perfection that could never last, but that they could enjoy in the moment. No swooping hawks hungry for rabbits, no changelings seeking a feast of pony love. Just grass, and warm sun.

Then it was time to keep going.

---

It was Fluttershy who saw it first, and her little gasp spoke volumes. Heads raised as they heard her, ponies poised for danger, but when most of them saw it too, they understood.

For Rarity, who had come from the Everfree from elsewhere, it took her time to fully see what her friend had even spotted. At a first glance, it was just overgrown greenery, a somewhat irregular-looking hill covered in grass and shrubs with a few surrounding trees that still looked young. Then she saw the birdhouses, and as Fluttershy opened her wings and swooped toward it all, she found herself breaking into a canter to follow.

It was not a hill, but a home, and the closer she got, the more she could pick out places where there were likely windows and doors beneath the layer of green. Not quite the same level of botanical architecture as what their refuge had become, but likely some experimentation in that direction had been done, and the results had then been left to grow wild.

There was no sign that it had been burned. It was some distance from the town proper, seemingly overlooked by the invasion, because its sapient inhabitant had already fled, and birds were a poor changeling's meal. Birds who were now singing, and Fluttershy zipped from one little house to the other, flipping between greetings and introductions depending on how friendly the chirps sounded.

There was a path to the home, but it too was overgrown, the dirt being reclaimed by grass and wild flowers. The other ponies in the group caught up, but stayed at the edge of that path, leaving Fluttershy to eventually touch back down to earth in front of the home and Rarity to trot into place alongside her.

Lighting her horn, Rarity started to pull back the growth, and Fluttershy extended a wing to start brushing it aside as well. It took time, but a glimpse of wood revealed itself as a door.

A door off of one of its hinges, and dangling by the second.

Fluttershy's movements were suddenly much more tentative, and with a nudge of her snout, she walked in, Rarity behind her.

They first thing they saw was an overturned couch. A chair and table had been similarly disturbed, and baskets and animal bedding lay strewn all over the living room, alongside scattered books. The shelves those books had likely once sat on were intact, but only because they'd been built into the wall.

Fluttershy slowly stepped into the centre of the destruction, and Rarity continued to follow, waiting for when the first tears would fall. As she did, she spotted the kitchen. Pots and pans dented, more brittle kitchenware smashed, bags torn, food gone...

Food gone.

Not just a few luxuries taken, and the rest left to rot. All of it, that she could see from her current place. The torn bags looked to have had their contents siphoned away, rather than scattered around in the usual wanton destruction.

Changelings hadn't done this.

Rarity nudged Fluttershy's shoulder, silently, with her snout. She took the silent invitation and draped a wing over her back before leaning against her. "Thank you... for being here."

"Of course," were the soft words in response. "We do things whenever you're ready. Not before."

They stood together in the ransacked living room for a long while.

Then, they got to work.

---

Not as much could be salvaged as had been hoped, but their saddlebags still had some extra weight as they left the cottage. Some things couldn't be made with just wood, plant fiber, and amber, no matter the magic brought to bear to assist, and so even broken pieces of past belongings could be valuable in what they could be recycled into. Fluttershy had focused on that, while they'd swept the home for things of use, talking about how dented pots and scattered stuffing from torn pillows could be repurposed.

Rarity almost smiled a few times, at the thought of taking all of this and getting to be creative in recycling it. But she would be using a friend's broken life as the raw material, and that reminder had kept the smile from surfacing.

Now the herd was all together again, walking down the neglected dirt path, and the charred remnants of what had once been a town soon loomed on the horizon. A few ponies moved more slowly. One had to stop and breathe to steel herself again. Several more started glancing upward, having adjusted to the sun but now all the more afraid of hundreds of wings suddenly blocking it.

They'd all agreed that this had to be done. That they needed to reclaim what they could. But nopony could truly be ready. When they reached the end of the long road and crossed the threshold into the town, the herd split in several directions, each with an expression like they were seeing ghosts.

Haunted ponies walking through the bones of their homes, and Rarity could only do what she had been already.

Be there. And listen.

---

"This was my bar."

The red-purple mare sat by the ashes of the wooden building, near a half-scorched, half-rotted sign. Staring at the sign long enough would show a ghost of the shapes it'd once had, matching the grapes and strawberry on her flank.

Rarity quietly sat with her.

"Nearly everything was local. The farmponies here grew it, then brewed it. Anything that was from out of town... I got it from family. Folks who had gotten it from their own local farmponies.

"Every single glass had a name attached. Every drink had a story. I'd pour something for an out-of-towner, and I'd tell them something about where it came from. Who.

"You weren't just buying a drink there. You were peering into what made it possible. And now it's gone."

Rarity took a deep breath. She tried to pretend that she could still taste it on the breeze, what had to have been wines, ciders, and all manner of other brews. She tried to picture the crowded bar of regulars and newcomers alike, tried to picture herself as a newcomer, coming up to the bar and being greeted by a friendly smile.

All she could truly taste was ash, dust, and the scent from the grass of a recent rain.

Rarity sighed, and shook her head. "The bar is gone, Berry... but you are still here. And so are the stories." She smiled gently. "I would love to hear some of them."

A soft chuckle. "I wouldn't know where to start."

"The beginning?"

"There's a lot of beginnings."

"Then pick one at random, darling, and we'll get to the others after. We have time."

---

"This was our spa."

The pink mare with the blue mane spoke softly as she stood before the building. Even so thoroughly burned, Rarity could see the remnants of the swooping roof, and she had to be careful of her hooves as she approached because of the half-buried golden ornaments.

"My sister and I, we gained our marks at the same time." Rarity couldn't quite place the mare's accent, but now was not the time to ask. "We knew from that moment we would go into business together. We came to Ponyville and...

"It took time, to attract clientele. They saw spas as something for big city ponies, and many ponies here prided themselves on being anything but big city ponies.

"But they gave it a try, a few of them. And word of mouth carried us through." Her eyes closed. "Then the swarm. We ran, but... Lotus wasn't fast enough. I-I heard her scream..."

Rarity tried to picture the two, together. She'd been told, save for their coat and mane colours, that the sisters had been nearly identical. Tried to picture herself strolling up to the building, in its previous glory, and being greeted by excited smiles from ponies who treasured each new customer. Being pampered by ponies who loved their work.

Tears rolled down the young mare's cheeks. Rarity's horn lit, and magic wiped them away. "You did get away, Aloe. Which means that she knows you're out there, waiting for her."

"And what good does that do?" Eyes opened again, blazing in pained anger, and her voice rose to a shout. "I don't know where she is! I don't know where they took her! And I'm a beautician! I cannot fight an army--"

"You are a beautician," Rarity said evenly, then nodded at her own mark, "And I am a jeweler." Her tone grew more gentle. "We don't have to have a mark for it to fight, Aloe. We just need a reason."

The flames in her eyes dimmed, and slowly, she nodded. "Yes, you're right. I'm sorry... and thank you."

"Anytime."

---

"This was our farm."

The massive red stallion had barely spoken a word, during Rarity's time at the refuge. But as he stared out at fields long neglected and at orchard with trees picked bare--she caught sight of shapes flitting between them, and would learn later that they were fruit bats--it seemed he had a lot more to say.

"Our granny set up here before there even was a Ponyville, an' our family put down roots." His head lowered. "It was jus' the three of us, that day. Me, Granny, an' Apple Bloom. Our parents were... gone, an' our other sister headed t' the city a long time ago for greener pastures.

"It was a lot of work, for three ponies, one of 'em too old t' do much an' the other too young. We'd call on help from the neighbours a lot. From friends.

"When it started... Granny grabbed up the pots an' pans, an' she told us t' run. She'd hold 'em off."

Rarity stared at the fields, and imagined them full of crops. She imagined the trees heavy with fruit, and ponies coming from all over town to help pick them. She thought of how much her own power could help, with that. Telekinesis was perfect for collecting a lot of small objects at once, and the magic that she'd previously used to collect jagged shards of amber could just as easily pick apples.

Rarity nodded, slowly. "Given that you're here, sounds like she succeeded."

He breathed a huff of a laugh. There was no mirth in it. "Granny's fierce when she wants t' be." His head sank all the more. "I shoulda grabbed her an' made her come with us. I barely have any family left..."

"She's still out there, Mac--"

"For how long?" He looked right at her. "I know the changelings keep ponies alive. We're no good t' 'em dead. But she's old, an' her health's never been perfect. How much are they gonna go outta their way for one old mare?"

Rarity didn't have an answer for that. She just moved closer, leaned, and slowly, he leaned back, holding back just enough to keep from knocking her over with his greater bulk.

After a stretch of silence, he sighed. "Still, no point digging a grave yet. She'd have my hide if I did while she was still kicking. An' maybe our sister's out there giving 'em Tartarus an' waiting for us t' find her, too."

Rarity smiled a little. "Exactly. Giving up is precisely what the swarm wants."

He nodded. "Eeyup. An' I'm not about t' give 'em the satisfaction."

---

"That was the bakery, and there was the quills and sofas store, and..."

Rarity had been following beneath flapping, dove-gray wings for the last while. Being a courier meant knowing the town inside and out, and so when so much of it belonged to ponies who hadn't come with them, or had been taken, there was nopony better to point out the places that may be best for scavenging.

Then she froze, and she was so absorbed in staring that she didn't notice the single golden eye glancing down and noticing she'd stopped following. She was only alerted by the hooves landing next to her, having narrowly dodged the cutout of a pony with a pole through it laying in the dirt.

"That was the Carousel Salon," came the soft voice of remembrance. "The mare who worked there... sweet young pegasus, but you got the feeling she didn't get out much, and that she was better with the manes than the business side of things."

Rarity nodded. It felt like all she could do.

"There was some talk about her merging with Aloe and Lotus's spa... but..." A grey hoof tapped against the dented silhouette. "She was never a very good flier. There was something with her wings... the feathers..." She sighed. "I never asked. You don't pry like that into wing condition, not unless you're a direct relative or a doctor. But she couldn't outfly them when they came."

"Their queen has a lot to answer for," Rarity managed, quietly.

It earned her a nod. "Yeah. And there'll be line to start the kicking."

"Survivors!"

Both mares' heads went up at the shout, and soon wings and hooves were on the move. They weren't the only ones, ponies pulling themselves away from the remains of their old lives and similarly converging on the shout. A herd coming together, ready to help... or, if necessary, to defend.

They found the caramel-brown stallion--she'd been told his horseshoe mark meant luck, and it had almost earned a dark laugh that somepony with a mark for good fortune would have the misfortune to live through times such as these--next to what had, once, been a tree. There were signs that it had been magically sculpted. A door in front, what had once been a balcony. But it was mostly just part of a trunk, and a few scorched branches. Damaged beyond recovery.

Huddled in the doorway were several small, fluffy, white shapes, so close together that they practically merged into a single cloud-like mound. Sheep, all with eyes wide in terror and shaking like leaves, seemingly so frightened they couldn't even speak as they looked around in shock at all of the gathering ponies.

It was Fluttershy who stepped forward first, voice even softer than her usual tones. "There there, it's okay... You must have been out here for quite a while, but you can come back with us, where it's safe."

One of the sheep perked up, and slowly stepped forward. "Thaaank you. We've haaaven't seen ponies in so long. We didn't know whaaat to do..."

Fluttershy gave a gentle nod, and from her saddlebag, where it'd been near-buried under the scavenged resources, came the salve. "Just come here, and we'll make sure you're safe to travel..."

The hoof dipped in the green moved with such care.

Rarity wished she could have been surprised when the sheep recoiled with the first brush, and started to scream.

There had been time since the Thicket, time for the example she'd given, and the lessons she'd imparted, to take hold. While instinct reigned for a short moment, ponies pulling back in fright as green flames spread across the flock and left hissing drones in their wake, nopony broke enough to completely freeze, run, or to fly away.

Instead, as several gossamer wings opened, they were ready.

---

The sun was dipping below the horizon as they followed the path back to the forest, both saddlebags and hearts heavy. A few trotted with heads held a little higher, the catharsis of having had a target to take their grief out on brightening them for a time, but most just looked tired after having been kicked over and over by the reminders of just how much had been lost.

The drones had been left more-or-less where they'd been found, laying unconscious in a pile in the doorway of the scorched tree. Rarity had collapsed the said doorway for good measure, ensuring that they'd be fighting to get themselves free of the debris for some time even after they woke up.

Rarity looked to the setting sun. It may be a while before she got to see the open sky again, and so for as long as she could, she took in the colours that had been painted across it, brushstroke by metaphorical brushstroke. Blues, purples, oranges, and so much more swirling together with the heavens as a canvas.

Perhaps she'd have the chance to meet the artist, in time.

But she had work to do, first.

Rarity wove her way through colourful bodies, and brushed against Fluttershy, white and yellow intermingling with a touch of shoulders. "Can I ask something of you, dear, once we've finished bringing all of this back?"

There was an exhaustion like nothing she'd ever seen in those gentle eyes, but Fluttershy still smiled. "Of course. What do you need?"

"It's... hard to explain. Let me just say, for now... that I'd like to show you something."

Comments

[Forcalor]

I like that Granny went down swinging
Pretty emotional chapter

[BirdsBooksBrownies]

That bit with Aloe and Big Mac were a rather big oomph in the feels.

As to the changelings, they are a dangerous enemy, and the show kind of missed the mark when they decided to go the friendly hippie bug route.

At the very least, Chryssy could have been a twisted perversion of what changelings were supposed to be, like in this other fic series I read recently where there were multiple hives, most having lived peaceably with ponies for centuries, and Chrysalis threatened everything by her bid for ultimate power.

[new55]

That was a good chapter goodluck with the next one.

[FanOfMostEverything]

Sweetie Belle was one of the ones who shied away from the rowdier games, but she'd found her place all the same, currently chatting with a pair of earth pony fillies, one silver and grey and the other purple and pink.

Ah, irony. Amazing what a little thing like total social upheaval can change.

The image of the overgrown cottage shrub is incredibly striking. Great work there. Likewise the library and what would have been the Boutique. Ponyville holds a place in our hearts as well.

Some things couldn't be made with just wood, plant fiber, and amber, no matter the magic brought to bear to assist, and so even broken pieces of past belongings could be valuable in what they could be recycled into.

Unicycled, even, if Rarity gets involved.

Our parents were... gone, an' our other sister headed t' the city a long time ago for greener pastures.

It's a Glimmer splinter, after all. Plenty of reasons why Applejack might stay in Manehattan.

Perhaps she'd have the chance to meet the artist, in time.

She'd have some pointed criticisms about some of their other work when that time came.

Things do seem to be going well... but they can't hide forever. We'll see how events proceed from here. If nothing else, Rarity may have another Bearer on hoof.