> Simple Affections > by FierceRainbow > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > In The Name of Love > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- In The Name of Love Fleur de Lis smiled at the waiter as he placed her cup of tea down in front of her, bowing his head slightly to her and her famous companion. She floated it up to her lips, taking a gentle sip of the hot liquid, ready mixed with her healthy dose of sugar. Over the rim of her china teacup, she watched Fancy Pants hand a tip over to the waiter. “Fancy, you’re too kind,” she said once the waiter had scurried off gratefully, lifting her nose daintly. “Why bother with these ponies who are so below us?” He laughed merrily, leaning back in his chair, having ordered nothing himself from the quaint little cafe they sat outside. “Oh, Fleur. Your views on others are amusing, as always.” Fleur carefully resisted the temptation to frown at his words. They were so light, yet so important. He wasn’t taking her seriously, as always. “Nothing’s amusing, Fancy. I’m simply speaking the truth. A waiter is not one to whom you should pay respect. You are very important pony, though I’m sure you already knew that.” Fancy Pants sighed, his expression more serious. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re, my dear. Just because someponies are less well off than us it doesn’t mean they are not as worthy as us.” It does, she bit her lip. He was still speaking. “For instance, take those friends of Rarity we saw once, a long time ago now. They weren’t sophisticated like us, but very charming in their own manner. And that Twilight, who’s dancing skills you had a word or two to say about,” he chuckled at the memory, Fleur’s cheeks flushing slightly. “She went on to become the newest princess. I dare say she’s worthy of our respect.” “But now she’s a princess, of course she is,” she protested. “She was born in Canterlot, anyway.” “But she belonges in Ponyville, as does that Rarity. It’s where her heart truly lies,” Fancy Pants said wistfully. “I’ve always wanted to visit the town, but I’ve never had the chance.” “Ponyville?” Fleur de Lis wrinkled her nose in disgust. “You like the muddy old place?” “Yes, I do.” Fancy, why must you think in such a way? she thought, not responding and instead sipping at her drink. You belong with us high-society ponies, everyone knows it. There is no need for all this interest in those lower than us. But if I were to say something rude, he would be very offended. I can’t offend him. Fleur bit back and anguished noise. It was no secret among the streets of Canterlot that she was very affectionate of Fancy Pants, holding feelings deeper than friendship for him. Yet when he himself had heard, he had laughed it off in that manner of this. He assured her he didn’t believe those gossipers. If only he knew they were true. “Fancy,” she started hesitantly. “I could go to Ponyville for you. I’ll take pictures, and maybe reform some of them into fine gentlecolts and ladies.” Fancy Pants smirked at her. “Fleur, do you want to go to Ponyville?” “No, I don’t!” she cried out immediately, recoiling from the idea. Clearing her throat, cheeks burning, she tried again. “I mean, I’m not particularly fond of the place myself, but I know you are, and I would do it for you.” “There’s no need to hide what you desire,” Fancy dismissed her protests quickly. “If you wish to go, I’ll request a carriage to assist in your journey. As for where you’ll stay, I’m sure you sort that out by yourself.” No, no, you’re getting the wrong idea! she silently fumed. But all the same, I can take the pictures. If it pleases him, perhaps I can tell him of my feelings. We would make such a fine couple. “How long will I be staying?” Fleur de Lis quietly asked, trying her best to look positive, and failing. “I don’t know, dear, however long you like.” Fancy smiled. “Then I will go there for the day, and the day alone,” she knew she could not bare to stay there for any longer than that. “Then I’ll be back in your company as soon as possible.” “If that’s what you wish, though it doesn’t seem such a long time to spend there.” “It will be adequate.” She finished her tea and the two set off, to pack for her trip to… Ponyville. Fleur de Lis shuddered slightly at the thought. There was nothing she could do now, though. She had said she would go, and now she would not disappoint him. She would take the pictures of that town he so desired, then return and perhaps advance to the next stage of their relationship. Fleur packed, for once, only the necessities. Her camera was slung around her neck, a few refined snacks carefully slotted into her saddlebags, along with some water, a jumper for if it got cold, and her small pack of handkerchiefs, signed with her cutie mark. With a farewell to Fancy Pants, she hopped aboard her private carriage and set off. She looked out the clear window, a forlorn sigh escaping her lips. Even if it was only for a day, she was to be away from her lovely gentlecolt, Fancy Pants. Who knew what kind of mare would try to take him while she was gone, visiting a muddy little town for him? The tall, beautifully adorned buildings of her hometown were soon replaced by rolling green hills, the stalks gently blowing in a breeze she could not feel inside her carriage. Curious of the new sight, Fleur leaned closer to the window, though not enough to do a thing so disgraceful as to press her face against the surface. It wasn’t like she’d never seen or touched grass before, but that been in neatly trimmed posh gardens. This was wild, free grass that sprouted everywhere, constantly trod on by the residents. Soon, she too would wander in that grass, dirty her hooves on the rough paths, and be jostled by those who knew nothing of her high status. At least Fleur’s height was sure to gain her at least a small degree of the attention and respect she deserved. Eventually the carriage came to a stop outside the little town, and Fleur stepped out. The wind hit her immediately. It wasn’t cold, persay, but without the tall spires of Canterlot to hold it at bay it was stronger than she had ever felt it before. Her mane was pushed backwards slightly, a fact that made her scowl. There was nothing she could do about it. Crushing the strange, long grass beneath her elegant hooves, Fleur trotted towards the main path through the town. It was, as she had expected, dirt. At least it was compact, though the top of it was sure to have a light skim of power to stain her white coat. Taking a deep breath, she took her first few steps. The texture, of course, was different. While mostly flat, it was uneven and lumpy, the power skim shifting beneath her. It was all very slightly, very small, but very important. Lifting her foreleg, she examined the underside of her hoof. A light spray of dirt formed a ring around the edges, contrasting against the pure white. Shuddering, she continued on into the heart of town. It seemed to be a busy day, many ponies of all kinds trotting about, enjoying the sunny weather. A few Pegasi longed on the fluffy white clouds that cast shade on other who could not or would not take to the skies. Some were happily chomping down on daisy sandwiches, while others tried on a variety of summer outfits. Despite all her disdain of Ponyville, she had to admit it seemed like a rather nice place to live. Everyone was happy and friendly, not trying to look special, just be themselves. They played and laughed, never worrying about what others would think of them. Fleur de Lis probably stuck out like a sore hoof, a fact she was suddenly aware of. Still, at least she wasn’t the only one with a more classy appearances. The Unicorn, Rarity, who had before visited, had a more sophisticated look about her, a flowery hat perched atop her curled mane. She, at least, would be more her crowd than anyone there. Fleur approached Rarity, hesitating to tap her on the shoulder. “Rarity?” She broke off from gazing at a diamond-studded ring to face her, a look of pleasant surprise across her face. “Fleur de Lis! I never expected to see you in Ponyville.” “Yes, I have decided to visit this little town for the day,” Fleur said uncertainly. “I’m to take pictures for Fancy Pants, as he does seem to be so interested in it.” “Well, be sure to get some of the market,” Rarity suggested brightly. “It really is lovely today.” “Hmm, yes, indeed,” she floated the camera up from her neck, taking a few snapshots of the surrounding area. That would surely satisfy him. “Any other places of importance you think I should visit.” “There is Sweet Apple Acres.” “Sweet Apple Acres?” she frowned at the name. “What is that?” “It’s my darling friend, Applejack’s, farm. She and her family all work there and supply delicious apples for all of us,” she grinned. Fleur winced. “A farm?” I guess it is very ‘rustic’, the kind of thing Fancy would like to see. I guess I’ll have to make sacrifices if he is to be happy. “Very well. Goodbye, fair Rarity, I do hope we meet again.” Fleur de Lis made her way through the crowd, gritting her teeth as strangers bumped her as they moved past, very few even offering her an apology. The attention she had thought she would gain hadn’t occurred, and she was very much one of the commoners. Fleur wasn’t sure she was that disappointed. After all, if she was to be quick, she did not want to be mobbed by strangers. Receiving a few directions from those strangers who showed no interest in her, she soon came into the view of what she could only assume was Sweet Apple Acres. Trees filled with ripe red fruit stretched as far the eye could, a sign proclaiming the name boldly, and a traditional barn to the left. Fleur walked under the sign, scrunching her nose up at the extra layer of dirt. It was the that she noticed the stallion. He was a red colour not unlike those of the apples he lived by, his mane pale and scruffy, a heavy brown around his neck. As she drew closer, he lifted one leg, lightly bucking the gnarled trunk of one tree. From that one simple moment, all the apples in that tree tumbled down into a set of buckets. Wow, Fleur de Lis thought. He really is strong. The stallion seemed to notice her appearance, straightening up to regard her curiously. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, which soon broke off as he continued his work. Frowning at that, she decided to draw the attention to herself again. She cleared her throat theatrically. “Ahem. Hello?” He stopped in the process of bucking another tree. Seeming to get her meaning, he trotted slowly closer. He stood and stared for a moment, before speaking in a strong accent. “G’afternoon.” “Um, yes, good afternoon,” Fleur refrained from taking a picture of him to show Fancy. And this, is a farm pony. They pick food and eat it. “My name is Fleur de Lis. I’ve come from Canterlot to see your little farm.” He nodded, thoughtfully chewing on a stalk of wheat sticking out of the side of his mouth. “I’m Big McIntosh,” he held out his large, mud-encrusted hoof. It took her a moment to realize he was waiting for her to shake it. “Oh… what a, ah, pleasure,” inwardly wincing, she ruined the cleanness of her hoof by taking his. He shook it firmly before letting go. Big McIntosh nodded in the direction of the barn she had earlier seen. “Ya’ll wanna eat?” Fleur remembered the food she had packed in case of such a situation, and wished to refuse. But it would be rude to do so, which left her with no option but to reluctantly look. “Yes, please.” He led the way to barn, holding the door open for her. She smiled slightly at that. At least he has good manners. The inside of the barn was dim, but not dark. Warm lights hung from the ceiling, a traditional wooden table in the center of the room. He held out a seat for her and she sat down. So this is Sweet Apple Acres, huh? Fleur de Lis took a few quick pictures. I wonder if that Big McIntosh lives alone. No, I wouldn’t think so. Rarity said an ‘Applejack’ lived here as well, and that’s clearly not him. The stallion in question returned with a pastry on a plate clamped between his teeth. He placed the plate down in front of her, revealing the pastry to be a slice of apple pie, a silver fork beside it. Fleur had never had apple pie before, but had always wondered what it tasted like. So she thanked him and carefully sliced off the tip of the pie, popping it in her mouth. Fleur’s eyes opened wide at the sensational flavors that assaulted her as she took that first bite, the warm crust and sweet apple filling mixing together gorgeously. She swallowed quickly, spinning to face Big McIntosh. “This is delicious!” Big McIntosh chuckled heartily, a merry sound. “Only th’ best in all o’ Equestria.” Fleur nodded, demolishing the rest of the pie in a matter of seconds, gobbling it down like nothing she’d ever had before. It was only once she had finished, sitting back with a full stomach, did she realize how out of character she was acting. Before she could apologize, the door opened. An orange stetson-wearing mare with a freckled face trotted in, a bounce in her steps. She paused when she noticed Fleur, a wide grin breaking out. “Well, howdy-do, who is this pretty little filly? It’s unlike ya’ll to bring a gal home, Mac. Never knew she was yer type.” “W-what?” her cheeks flamed, as she scrambled upwards. “No! I assure you, we are not doing anything of that kind. I’m simply here to examine this here farm for Fancy Pants of Canterlot. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.” “Oh yeah, he’s that guy who hung out with Rarity, right?” She scowled at the ways she brushed off his name so casually. “Yes, that is him.” “Well, ya’ll have fun,” she winked at Big McIntosh. “Don’t get too frisky now, ya hear.” “Applejack!” Big McIntosh growled. She laughed, prancing away. So that’s Applejack. “C’me ‘ere,” she blinked in surprise as he took her hoof. His wasn’t really as dirty as it had first seem. Wow. He really is a fine example of a stallion. He’s strong, polite and I’m sure he would be the kind to protect me against a stranger. Wait, no! Don’t think of any stallion but dear Fancy Pants. Big McIntosh took her between the rows of trees, beams of sunlight streaming through the trees, dappling his flank. She had to admit, he was rather handsome. Blushing, she looked away. They eventually came to a stop in a small clearing. Big Mac lay down, and she followed his lead, staring up at the sky, obscured by leaves. After a while of letting the silence drag on, she decided to break it. “Big McIntosh?” she asked quietly. “Why are we here?” He turned to look at her, his eyes, which she noticed were a lovely shade of green, seemingly confused. Eventually, he shrugged and looked away. “Can you please tell me why we’re here?” She insisted. Big McIntosh shrugged again. “I dunno. Jus’ wanna see ya a bit.” “Why?” “‘Cause I like ya.” She flushed pink. “How can you know you like me? We’ve only just met.” “Eeyup,” he smiled at her. “I like ya.” Her heart flipped, beating quickly against her chest. “What do you mean by ‘like me’?” He sat up to face her, and it pounded all the more quickly. “Th’ way a stallion likes a mare.” An embarrassing ‘eep’ escaped her lips, and she ducked away. Gathering her courage, Fleur ducked forwards, briefly planting her lips on his cheek. It was impossible. She couldn’t like this stallion, this farmer, who she had only just met. She’d never believed in love at first sight, and she’d always known Fancy Pants was the one for her. And yet this Big McIntosh, who was so like him but so different at the same time, he had something. And that something drew her ever closer, made her want to see where things went. She had no idea what he saw in her, but perhaps… perhaps it would be okay, try out these simple affections.