Planescape: Equestria

by Applechaser

The Alternative Canterlot Garden Party

“Well,” Rarity says, “if we’re going to make Swan Dive’s dinner party then we’d better head back to the palace soon and see if our rooms are ready so that you can drop off your things and we can get ready for the evening.”

Pinkie Pie is just licking the last of the ice cream from the bottom of her bowl. You’re not entirely sure how it’s possible that the mountain of ice cream that was there a scant few minutes ago is now entirely inside the small pink pony, but it seems undeniable. She looks completely at peace with the world, and as energetic as ever.

“I’m sorry, I had something really important to do that demanded my FULL attention,” she says seriously. “Was that a friend of yours who was just here, Rarity? She seemed nice! Do you two have some kind of plans for tonight now?”

“Err, well, yes,” Rarity says. “That is, if we won’t be ditching you…”

“Nopey dopey! That’s perfect, I’ve got lots of work to do planning for tomorrow night, or maybe the night after, depending how quickly I can get everything organised. First and most importantly, I need to see a pony about some wubs. I think Vinyl is on the decks at the Salt Lick tonight, so I’ll drop by there and talk to her.”

You have no idea what any of that means, but it sounds convenient.

“Perfect,” Rarity smiles.

The three of you head back to the palace through the fragrant dusk, Canterlot’s skyline silhouetted charcoal against the dying light of the day. You are met in the grounds by a pageboy (pagecolt?) in livery. He shyly greets Rarity by name, seeming to recognise her from a previous visit.

“Oh! Hello,” she says with a gracious smile. “I’m sure you’re glad to see me without much luggage this time.”

He gives a nervous laugh, looking smitten, and nearly trips over his own hooves as he turns to lead the way to your rooms. The princess has found a convenient tower suite of four double en suite rooms conjoining a shared lounge area.

“Oh, goodness gracious!” Rarity gushes with wide-eyed admiration as you are conducted into the lounge.

She trots over to the bay window with its magnificent view over the city.

“This is just fabulous, the princess has outdone herself with her hospitality once again.”

Pinkie clearly agrees; having made a running dive into the pile of fancy cushions that adorned the sofa, she is now giggling happily as she rolls around and scatters them all over the room.

“Thanks, kid,” you say, giving the pagecolt a silver coin.

He looks curiously at it, but thanks you politely anyway and backs out of the room with a last longing gaze at Rarity. It -is- rather enticing the way she idly sways her tail to and fro as she stands looking out of the window, her back arched subtly to elevate her hindquarters...

You already know her better than to think it could possibly have been thoughtless on her part.

“Poor boy,” you say with a chuckle.

“Hmm?” Rarity asks, looking round at you and meeting your mock-accusing look.

“Temptress.”

“Whaaat? What did I do?” she flutters her eyelashes innocently, tail still swishing, and you just give a snort of laughter.

“I’m going to go stand under a cold shower. See you in half an hour or something and we’ll head out?”

“Certainly,” Rarity smiles.

Pinkie Pie has already disappeared on her evening’s planning expedition by the time you return to the lounge, and you can still hear the water running in Rarity’s bathroom accompanied by faint melodic strains of her singing. More or less as you had expected, Rarity keeps you waiting easily another half hour before making her appearance. It’s not so bad: thankfully these ponies seem to understand alcohol, and the suite has a rather well-stocked bar. You settle in with a whiskey on ice and admire the view from the balcony while you wait, the many lights of Canterlot like so many stars spread out beneath you.

You end up so thoroughly absorbed by the view that the first you notice of Rarity’s approach is a subtle hint of vanilla and sandalwood in the air and then, a moment later, the warmth of her presence as she leans on the railing next to you with one hoof lightly resting on your arm. You enjoy the view together for a minute or two, neither of you speaking. When eventually you turn to her you see that she’s slipped into an elegant evening dress in a pale fuchsia pink with red detailing and a ruby necklace.

“You look ravishing, m’lady,” you say with an extravagantly affected air of gallantry.

“Oh, just a little outfit I threw together…” she says with a wave of her hoof and a pleased smile. “Shall we?”

“Let’s.”

Soon the two of you are promenading down the palace boulevard once more, and this time you’re not sure how many of the stares are for you and how many are for Rarity. Of course, some might be especially for the combination.

“It wouldn’t do to be too punctual, of course,” Rarity says musingly as you pass by a fancy-looking cocktail bar. “Might I suggest a pre-dinner drink?”

“That sounds like an eminently sensible suggestion.”

You’re soon seated in a snug booth overlooking the street, and Rarity is helping you make sense of the menu. You don’t recognise any of these drinks, although plenty of them seem to be made of stuff you’re familiar with.

"So, wait, you’ve never had a martini?” Rarity says in shock.

“Nope.”

“But darling, darling, that’s a genuine full-fledged emergency. We need to correct it immediately.”

“Hmm. Well, if you say so…” you shrug with a smile, happy enough to have the decision taken out of your hands.

Rarity orders two martinis and you make small talk until they arrive, teasing her about her singing in the shower.

“Oh, well, singing’s in the family, you know,” she says with faint embarrassment. “But my little sister Sweetie Belle got the musical talent in my generation. Only the silly thing doesn’t realise it yet.”

“Well, she probably feels overshadowed by her genius opera diva of a sister.”

“Oh, hush, you beast…”

The martinis arrive in tall-stemmed glasses, a green olive swimming in each and a twist of lemon on the side of the glass.

“Well, cheers. Here’s to Equestria.”

You clink glasses, take a sip, and smack your lips.

“Hmm. So basically this is a large glass of shockingly cold gin with just enough trimmings to keep it classy.”

“Precisely! Isn’t it absolutely marvellous?”

“It might be the best thing I’ve ever drunk. Thank you, Rarity…” you make a show of choking up with emotion, clasping her hoof with your free hand. “Thank you…”

She gives a laugh and squeezes your hand playfully.

“Consider it my ‘welcome to Equestria’ gift,” she says.

“Ha! And I thought nothing could top Pinkie’s song.”

She gives another laugh, her blue eyes flashing in the candlelight, and you momentarily consider suggesting blowing off this dinner party altogether. It’s somewhat tempting – but, after all, poking fun at Fleur together will probably be as good a date as anything else you could dream up. Still, you end up staying for another drink before finally leaving for Swan Dive’s dinner party.

You have a pleasant buzz as you step out into the evening. Rarity is giggly and a bit unsteady, canting occasionally into your leg as she walks close by your side. If lateness is fashionable, you and Rarity are the bleeding-edge cultural vanguard as you climb the steps to Swan Dive’s townhouse – both in fits of laughter over something Rarity said about a passerby’s hat – and ring the doorbell.

A stallion in a butler’s uniform opens the door and looks you both up and down with a stern eye.

“Ah yes,” he says slowly. “Miss Rarity, and guest. Miss de Lis led us to expect your arrival, but we had almost given up on you. Please… come in. The guests have just sat down to dinner.”

“Thank you,” Rarity says, walking past with her nose in the air – presumably, showing what she thinks of help who presume to look disapprovingly at invited guests.

“Yes, thank you Woodhouse,” you say, following her.

“…sir, my name is-"

“That will be all, Woodhouse.”

You barely have time to take in the overall impression of oak panelling and plush carpets before Rarity has opened the dining room door and made her entrance to the party.

“Good evening!” she sing-songs as the assembled ponies look up from their appetisers at the interruption.

“Rarity!” cries a dusky yellow pony with a pink mane – almost the same colouring as Fluttershy, but with her mane done up in an elaborate beehive arrangement there would be no danger of them ever being mixed up. “I’m so terribly glad you could make it. We had almost decided that Fleur was wickedly pulling all our legs when she said that she’d run into you today. Oh, it’s so good to see you! Ah, and you brought a guest…”

The yellow pony looks you up and down, clearly unsure what to make of you, but gives a polite smile anyway.

“Welcome, welcome.”

“Swan Dive, dearest, please do forgive us both for being so unconscionably late,” Rarity says. “This is Anonymous. Oh, but we’ve interrupted you all so horribly, this is dreadful.”

“No, no, not at all. Won’t you sit down? I’ll have some appetisers brought out for you immediately. Now you simply must tell me what you’ve been up to, I heard a little rumour that you’ve been working with Hoity Toity again…”

There are only two empty places at the table, so Rarity takes the one closest to Swan Dive whilst you end up between her and a grey stallion with a brown mane and a telescope for a cutie mark.

The stallion looks at you with some curiosity as you take your seat, but soon turns back to his other neighbour, presumably having failed to come up with any dinner-party-appropriate smalltalk for a towering bipedal monster the like of which he’s never seen in his life.

You have time to take your bearings while Rarity chats away with Swan Dive. Including you and Rarity there are now sixteen guests seated around the long table with its pristine white linen tablecloth. Candles burn in silver candelabra at regular intervals, and there is a rather impressive ice sculpture of a swan as the table’s centrepiece. Most of the ponies are returning to the conversations they were having before your arrival, although a number of curious gazes are directed your way.

You can see Fleur’s graceful figure towards the far end of the table, talking enthusiastically to her neighbour. Judging by her gestures and looks in your direction, she’s talking about you, and you can’t help but grin at the thought of what she must be telling her. When she notices you watching her Fleur gives a little start and waves a tentative hoof. You smile and give a nod, meeting her eyes confidently, and she looks down at her plate with a little blush. Now that you can’t hear her gossiping, it occurs to you with renewed force that she’s really rather a lovely looking pony, with that gazelle-like neck and those eyes like almonds set in the confectionary icing of her coat and sugar-pink mane.

You feel a dig in your ribs and turn to see Rarity looking at you with a knowing smile, eyes narrowed.

“Admiring Fleur? You’re not feeling remorseful about the dirty little trick you played on her, now are you Anon?” she asks archly.

You grin.

“Rarity, you don’t know me very well at all if you think that just because I’m admiring her means I don’t want to play dirty tricks.”

“Ha… I’ll remember that. Well, just so long as you have something to keep you entertained. I did warn you that this would be boring.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” you say casually. “We’re going to get some booze, right?”

As if in perfectly timed reassurance, a unicorn pony in livery approaches with a magically suspended bottle of wine.

“Oh good. So yeah, I’m going to be fine.”

You find solace in drink while Rarity turns back to Swan Dive and her other neighbours on that side. Some of the food that turns up you can’t eat – there’s hay tempura, marigold and primrose salad and a savoury sorbet with a flavouring that you just don’t even want to ask about – but other courses are fine, and even very tasty.

At some point your right-hand neighbour introduces himself as Star Gazer and to relieve his awkwardness you feel bound to explain a little bit about your situation in Equestria. Upon hearing that you’ve had a royal welcome from both princesses and have a suite in the palace, he suddenly becomes an awful lot more effusive. The lilac-coated mare on the other side of him is soon drawn in as well, asking you endless questions about what the princesses are really like. You indulge their curiosity as best you can while frequently catching the waiter’s eye to have your wine glass topped up.

You’re aware that information about you is slowly circulating around one side of the table via Star Gazer and the purple mare, whilst other – presumably completely different – information about you is circulating around the other side of the table from Fleur. You keep drinking, and wait with pleasant expectancy for the moment when conflicting information hits the same pony.

Coffee and petits-fours are coming round. You notice some chocolate tartlets with sugared violets on top and point them out to Rarity with a nudge and a smirk.

"That royal baker must be moonlighting.”

She gives a stifled laugh and hits you none too softly in the shoulder.

You’re taking a sip of coffee when you hear the exclamation you’ve been waiting for.

“A dragon? But my dear, that’s preposterous.”

The speaker is a light grey unicorn stallion with spectacles and a slate grey mane, sitting three places along from Fleur. Her news has obviously just reached him.

“Excuse me, Jet Set, but it is not preposterous at all,” Fleur says with a haughty toss of her mane. “Just because you happen to be quite ignorant of the dragon development cycle…”

“Fleur, darling, listen to yourself. A dragon? He has no scales. He has no wings.”

Fleur’s colour starts to rise as she gets drawn into the debate, convinced of her own superior knowledge. She might be a bit the worse for drink, which isn’t helping.

“It JUST SO HAPPENS that dragons SHED their baby scales and baby wings in adolersh… adalosh… adolescence. I thought everypony knew that.”

Jet Set gives a laugh, a note of insecurity creeping in his voice as he looks around to see everypony listening to the two of them, and perhaps momentarily wonders if what Fleur is saying is so crazy that it must be true.

His eyes light on you.

“Anonymous, isn’t it? Anonymous, my dear chap, please elucidate the situation for Fleur and her friend here. They seem to be labouring under the delusion that you are, of all things, a dragon.”

You can’t help but feel kind of bad as you meet Fleur’s eyes and see the premature triumph there, her certainty that you’re going to vindicate her. It’s also really, really funny, though. You bite your lip and turn back to Jet Set.

“…of course not,” you say. “I’m a human. But I should apologise for sowing confusion, I made a joke earlier and I think Fleur may have taken me rather too seriously…”

Fleur blinks once, staring at you, completely aghast. She blinks again. The silence stretches out. And then Jet Set starts braying with laughter, quickly followed by several other ponies. Soon almost everypony round the table is laughing hilariously.

“A joke!” he cries out through his mirth. “Oh, that’s capital! A joke, and you really believed that he was a dragon, Fleur! Oh my…”

Fleur’s face is buried in her hooves, her cheeks burning with shame. She gets up with a graceless jerking movement that knocks her chair over, and flees through the open French windows that lead out into the gardens. Now you kind of feel like a dick.

“…fuck,” you murmur to Rarity. “Should I…?”

She just smiles reassuringly.

“Don’t worry. I’ll go.”

She gets up before you can say anything else, and after a word in Swan Dive’s ear she follows Fleur out into the gardens.

“Oh dear… oh dear oh dear…” Jet Set is dabbing at his eyes with his handkerchief, still being shaken by occasional chuckles. “Oh, Swan Dive, I’m so sorry for the disturbance. But it was simply too funny…”

Swan Dive gives a conciliatory smile.

“Don’t worry, these things happen. It was just a harmless joke that got out of hand. I’m sure Rarity will have Fleur feeling better in no time. Now, Anonymous, why don’t you set the record straight for everypony? I’m not sure we all know what a human is. Rarity was telling me that you met Princess Celestia today…”

With an inward groan you settle in to go over the same old ground again, giving the potted version of who and what you are and telling the ponies what they want to hear about the princesses. At least a bottle of brandy looks to be coming round. That’s something. It feels like an age before Rarity appears on the terrace and signals you over.

“Oh dear, it looks like Rarity needs your help in patching things over,” Swan Dive says.

“Yes. Excuse me, then…” you say, getting up with palpable relief and, on second thoughts, taking your glass of brandy with you.

The night air is still balmy and mild as you step out onto the terrace, and there’s a heady smell of honeysuckle from the thick curtains of the stuff that hang from the house.

“At last… my saviour…” you greet Rarity melodramatically, getting rewarded with an indulgent smile for your trouble.

“Now darling,” she says softly, “Fleur is something of a wreck, but I told her how awful you feel, so come along and pretend to feel awful, all right?”

“No problem.”

“Good. Just follow my lead.”

Following her lead promises to be very pleasant as she sets off across the lawn, her haunches swaying provocatively in the moonlight. The gardens are very extensive – you suppose they must be shared between Swan Dive’s and the other extravagant townhouses that back onto them. The two of you walk across the wide lawn, down stone steps and past a fountain, then turn off into a narrow path through thick shrubbery, dappled light cast here and there by tiki torches planted in the ground.

You come to a secluded glade of lime trees with a wooden bench that has been set into a living tree, so that its branches overhang the seat in a protective embrace. There, amidst cushions and blankets, Fleur sits sniffling. She looks up with watery eyes as you and Rarity come into view, and immediately looks away with a fierce blush.

“I… I don’t know why you brought him…” she cries.

“Now, Fleur, darling, don’t be that way,” Rarity coos, climbing up onto the bench next to her and putting a foreleg around her soothingly. “It was just a silly joke that went too far, and Anonymous is terribly sorry, aren’t you Anonymous?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, Fleur. I felt like a real ass when I saw how upset you were.”

You take a seat on Fleur’s other side. The bench is designed for three ponies, but you take up a bit more room than a pony, so it’s quite cosy. You can feel Fleur’s flank shaking gently as she cries next to you.

“I was humiliated,” she sobs. “Just absolutely humiliated, I don’t know how I’m going to show my face.”

“Now Fleur, it wasn’t that bad…” Rarity says.

“Oh but it was, it was! Oh, to think of that braying jackass Jet Set, practically calling me an idiot to my face…”

“Oh darling, he’s just bitter because that crusty wife of his really is an idiot, and even before she lost her looks she wasn’t a PATCH on you.”

“Eh… ehehe…” Fleur giggles through her tears. “Crusty Upper Crust. Upper Crusty?”

Rarity laughs, laying her head lightly on Fleur’s shoulder. “Upper Crusty… oh yes, too perfect, that’s her name from now on.”

Fleur smiles, but her good humour quickly fades as she turns to you, lilac eyes blazing.

“But you… you absolute utter stinking ASSHOLE. What possessed you to tell me such rot?”

“Err… I thought it would be funny…”

She just glares for a moment, and then slaps you in the face with a hoof. Her slender, milky legs don’t have a whole lot of power behind them, but it still stings more than a bit.

“I deserved that…”

She hits you again, her eyes tearing up once more as she lets out her pent-up aggression. Again and again she hits you, not really slapping you now but buffeting both sides of your head with her forehooves and letting out big choking sobs. Your head is ringing when the assault eventually stops; the blows were nothing serious, but still, those hooves of hers are pretty hard.

Rarity has both forelegs thrown around Fleur in a tight embrace, pinning her.

“That’s enough,” she’s saying softly in Fleur’s ear. “That’s enough, darling, that’s enough. Shhh…”

Fleur meets your gaze for a long moment, her own eyes swimming with tears, and although your vision is blurred a little you keep her fixed with a frank, steady look. With an impulsive movement she buries her head in your chest, and as Rarity releases her forelegs she throws them tightly about you, sobbing muffled apologies. Her soft pink mane smells sweet and a little sharp, like lemon cakes. You stroke it softly with one hand, while the other folds around her back to return her embrace, holding her close.

“Shh…” you whisper in her ear. “Shh... it’s okay.”

Over her head you meet Rarity’s eyes and she gives you a meaningful smile. You sure hope you’re reading this right. Bending your head low over Fleur’s, you softly plant a kiss on her pale forehead, looking at Rarity the whole time. Rarity’s smile just deepens as Fleur tenses in your arms. You continue, softly kissing the top of Fleur’s head in a dozen places, her coat like peach fuzz against your lips as the elegant mare slowly relaxes and lets herself slip down until she’s draped languidly over your lap.

Her head is out of reach of your kisses now, but you compensate by gently playing with her ears with one hand as the other continues to stroke her mane. Rarity shuffles over and leans against you, pressed up close against Fleur’s haunches where she has curled up on the bench. She brings her face close to yours and for a long moment you look into those sapphire eyes as your hands idly work their magic on Fleur. You go to kiss Rarity and she pulls back just slightly, leaving you hanging with a wicked smile on her face, prolonging the anticipation.

You can sense her sweet breath on your skin, smell her fragrance, feel a soft strand of her mane as it blows in the breeze and tickles your cheek; but you can’t reach those lips, not quite, not without dislodging Fleur. You stare into her eyes, silently demanding that she lean closer, focusing all your mastery and will on her. She just gives a soft breath of laughter and extends her tongue, licking your nose.

You give a frustrated answering chuckle – and then her lips finally meet yours all at once, kissing you with hungry passion, her tongue dancing artfully and inviting yours into her mouth. Your hands go still in Fleur’s mane, and you can feel her twist to watch you, but it hardly registers. You’re lost in the moment; lost in a world of Rarity’s hot mouth and cool, silky mane, her rich vanilla scent, the soft little mewing noise she makes as you bite gently on her lip.

“Mm...” Rarity breaks the kiss at last, sighs contentedly and nuzzles into your shoulder, one hoof resting lightly on Fleur’s flank.

* * * tasteful fade to black because only some sort of sick deviant freak would write an explicit sex scene between a human and two ponies, obviously. I'm shocked at the very idea: it's disgusting, I tell you, disgusting. * * *

Comments

[Sandman]

gifrific.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/Boy-That-Escalated-Quickly-Anchorman.gif

[Templar Pony]

WHAT ABOUT FLUTTERSHY!!!!

[TheTownCrier]

That, my dear author was glorious. Where did Fleur ever come from? Twas a stroke of genius.