> A Robust Solution > by Jordan179 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter 1: A Ghost of the Past > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "So you see," Fluttershy said to Rarity as they walked along the lane, "in a Prisoner's Dilemma each one of the ponies can gain an advantage by betraying the other, and if one betrays and the other stays loyal, then the one who betrays gets the most gain, and the one who is betrayed gets the most loss. But if both betray, they both suffer much loss, while if both stay loyal, they both suffer a small loss." Rarity mulled the notion over as they continued down the lane, reaching the main road that led out of Ponyville toward Canterlot. The two mares had no intention of going that far, of course; if they had, they would have taken a train. All they were doing was walking together in the late afternoon, two friends taking in the brisk air of early October and talking about life. Which in Fluttershy's case, meant animals, and the relationships between species in the wild. This was not a topic of great interest to Rarity, but she was happy to see her friend waxing voluble on any topic. Fluttershy was normally too withdrawn from the world, as if it had frightened her long ago and she'd never quite gotten over the start. So, if Fluttershy was willing to talk; Rarity was willing to listen. "So do you see why it's a 'dilemma?'," asked Fluttershy.. "Yes," said Rarity slowly, "I suppose I do. Because each one of the ponies is tempted to take advantage of the other pony, but if they both give way, they both lose." They took a left turn and were now walking northeast along the main road to Canterlot, staying on the shoulder to avoid the deep wagon ruts. The river was to the right; to their left at some distance ran the railroad on its embankment. "So what do you think they do?" Fluttershy was grinning, as if she was sitting on some deep secret. "Well," said Rarity, "I would be loyal. I don't believe that it's right to betray a friend." "Yes," said Fluttershy, "and I'd be loyal too. So if we played the game, then we'd both be loyal and suffer the small loss. Or, in some versions of the game, get a small gain. The important point is the order of the outcomes, not the amounts." "Then I've solved your dilemma," smiled Rarity. "Ah," said Fluttershy, "but that's for you and I. Suppose that you were playing with, say, Cloud Kicker." "Eww," said Rarity. "I wouldn't trust her farther than I could throw her. In fact I wouldn't trust her that far -- she's pretty light." "Hollow bones," said Fluttershy with a hint of smugness, briefly flexing her wings. "And telekinesis," said Rarity, her horn faintly glowing as she lifted a nearby pebble, tossing it into the river, watching it splash "Well, you get the idea. So I -- hmm -- I guess she'd betray me, so suppose I'd want to betray her right back." "She hasn't betrayed you yet," pointed out Fluttershy.. "True," said Rarity. pursing her lips. "But I know her -- I know she can't be trusted." "So it's as if you've played the game with her before," said Fluttershy. "Yes," said Rarity. "Well, in real life, you do play the game more than once, don't you? You meet ponies and see how they behave towards oneself, and then you behave toward them based in part on how they've acted before. Their reputations, so to speak." "Uh-huh," nodded Fluttershy. "That's called an iterated game. Meaning that you play round after round with the same ponies. And that's the key to solving the dilemma." "How so?" asked Rarity, not sure how much of this she was really following, but convinced that there was some significant revelation somewhere at the end of it all. "Well, you see," said Fluttershy, "if you play the game only once there is no good solution, because you have no idea which strategy the other player is going to pick. It's 50-50, but you don't even know that, because the other player has a preference -- you just don't know which preference." They were at the edge of town now, and the houses were growing thin. Far up ahead was some kind of public house -- the Carrot and Stick, Rarity recalled, a place with a somewhat unsavory reputation. There was a chuffing noise far away in the direction of Canterlot -- a train, still miles away. Fluttershy had eyes only for Rarity, attention only for the idea that she was developing. "But if you know the player," said Fluttershy, "know what strategies she likes to pick, you can decide what to pick yourself based on her repuation. And you can also take your own reputation -- both past and intended future -- into account when picking your strategy. So if her reputation is for betrayal, you pick betrayal. If it's for loyalty, you pick loyalty. And -- even better -- there's a general solution to the problem -- assuming you don't know how many rounds you are playing." "What would that be?" Rarity asked. She heard a wagon behind her -- her ears swiveled automatically and she could roughly tell the distance. The friends moved a bit higher on the shoulder of the road to let the vehicle pass them. It was a big fruit wagon, drawn by two burly teamster stallions, who looked and whistled appreciatevely at the two mares as they went by. Rarity lifted her chin, looked away from the stallions and smirked to herself. Fluttershy blushed and twisted her head behind her own pink mane. It was not until the stallions were well down the road that Fluttershy recovered from her embarassment. "About the solution?" Rarity prompted her friend. "Oh, right," replied Fluttershy. "It's called 'Nice Tit-For-Tat.' The way it works, the first time you meet a new player, you choose 'loyal.' You're being 'nice' -- giving her the benefit of the doubt, so if she's trustworthy you won't give her the wrong idea about yourself." "That makes sense," Rarity said. "Like making sure to give a new customer good service, so she'll come back for more." "Exactly," Fluttershy continued. "And what do you suppose you do the next round?" "Hmm," said Rarity. "I guess I'd be nice again, if she was nice to me. But if she betrayed me --" A slight stress came into her voice, as she considered the concept of betrayal. "Right!" said Fluttershy happily. "You've got it! You're Nice the first round, and then afterward you do exactly what the other girl did the round before -- including betrayal, or being 'nasty,' if that's what she did to you. Nice Tit-For-Tat." "Wouldn't you want to sometimes try being nice again," Rarity asked. "Just in case you'd misjudged them before?" "That can work too," Fluttershy conceded. "It's called 'Forgiving Nice Tit-For-Tat, and it's better against some specialized strategies. But the important point is always be nice first, and usually do as you are done unto. It's sometimes also called the Silver Rule, to distinguish it from the Golden Rule of the ancient philosophers, which would be just a pure Nice strategy." "I see," said Rarity. They had continued walking, and were now about half of the way to the public house. The teamsters had pulled their wagon up there. What, can't they get a mile out of town without deciding it's time for a drink? Rarity thought to herself with some annoyance -- it meant that they'd have to walk past their perhaps over-appreciative eyes again -- then felt guilty for the sentiment. It's hard work pulling those wagons. They're probably just thirsty. "Can pure Nice work?" She felt it couldn't, but wanted to see what her friend thought. "Sometimes," said Fluttershy. "It works perfectly with other pure Nice players, or Nice Tit-For-Tat. But the problem is that it can be easily exploited by a number of strategies that Betray. It's not 'robust,' in game theory terms. Pure Nice can't survive around others willing to be Nasty." "That's a lot like business," Rarity observed. "I always try to be nice to my customers, my suppliers, everypony I work with -- because if they're nice back to me, we'll both benefit. But I've found that there are some ponies who will just take advantage of me if I let them, so I can't be nice to them. I have to watch them like a hawk, or they'll rob me blind. I prefer not to do business with ponies like that at all, if I can possibly avoid it." "In real life you can choose not to play with those whose reputation is sufficiently bad," said Fluttershy. "This is really a lot like business," Rarity said enthusiastically. "It reminds me of some of the things I was taught in my business courses, when I went away to Fillydelphia. Always make a good impression on your customers from the start, treat them well, and only extend credit to the creditable -- don't waste your time and money chasing after sunk costs and bad debts." "And it is very important to ecology," said Fluttershy. "That's how I got into game theory. You see, in Nature there's something called 'symbiosis,' which ..." "Hey, ladies!" cried one of the teamsters. He was a big, chestnut-coated Earth pony; his team mate a slightly smaller tan; both were black-maned. They were handsome in a rough sort of way, but right now they weren't behaving very handsomely. They were showing off in a crude fashion, prancing in place, swaying their heads, and flicking their ears suggestively. "Did you come here for some of what we've got?" The smaller stallion did the same, though a bit more hesitantly -- he was obviously following his friend's lead. "Well, I never!" said Rarity, huffing and raising her nose, refusing to make direct eye contact with them. She started to trot away, her tail demurely arched down to block them from a direct view of her rump. She trotted a few steps ... ... then suddenly noticed that her friend wasn't following her. "Fluttershy?" Rarity turned around, looking with concern. Fluttershy was not, as Rarity had expected, trying to crawl under her own mane and slink away from there. Instead, she seemed absolutely terrified; her forelegs splayed, hindlegs pushed back, tail under her own belly, ears down, a wide-eyed look of horror on her face as she stared at the two stallions. Not the Stare -- thankfully, as Rarity knew it would be utterly-uncalled for in this minor confrontation -- but simply a stare as if the stallions were the most incredibly threatening thing she'd ever seen in her life. Since, just a month ago, she had seen Fluttershy face down a full-grown Dragon right outside its lair, Rarity found this almost unbelievable. Rarity glanced at the two stallions, to see if they were doing anything beyond mere crudeness to justify such a response from her friend. Instead, the bigger chestnut one had stopped, and was looking at Fluttershy oddly -- as she watched, he motioned his smaller tan buddy to stop -- he was evidently worried by the intensity of Fluttershy's fear. Why was Fluttershy so frightened by them? Rarity instinctively moved forward to put herself between her friend and the perceived threat, and as she did she realized something. Fluttershy was not staring in fear at the two stallions. She was staring in fear at the building. At that moment, Fluttershy bolted, galloping pell-mell back toward Ponyville. Rarity glared accusingly at the two teamsters, who wilted before her gaze. Then she galloped off after her friend. > Chapter 2: A Friend in the Present > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- For a Pegasus, Fluttershy was pretty fast on her hooves. Especially when she was running from danger, or in this case imagined danger. Rarity had occasion to ruefully reflect upon this as she galloped after her fleeing friend. She was heading right toward the center of town, and Rarity was already noticing houses and other ponies becoming more numerous. I'm making a complete spectacle of myself, Rarity thought, then realized ... and I don't have to. There's only one place Fluttershy would go when she's like this. Rarity slowed to a more dignified canter, letting Fluttershy pull ahead of her and out of view around a corner. She's going home. The white unicorn was only trotting as she walked through the town square. A leisurely saunter to the other end of town took her to Fluttershy's house -- a humble-looking but actually rather large house on a sizable plot of land, taken up by Fluttershy's vegetable garden, chicken pen and animal shelter. Rather a lot of land and house, really, Rarity thought, not for the first time, as she considered it. Her family certainly provided well for her -- it's odd they never visit. But then, Pegasi could be strange that way -- even when they dearly loved their kin, it was almost a point of pride for them to be seen as going it completely alone. Something left over from the olden days, I expect. Fluttershy had once told her that she came from a very old Pegasus family, but had been plainly disinclined to go into the details. Rarity stepped up to the door, knocked, waited. There was no reply. No sound. She knocked again. There was still no response, though she thought she could hear an impatient chittering -- Fluttershy's little familiar? She tried the door -- found it bolted. "Fluttershy?" Rarity asked. "I know you're in there, darling. Are you all right?" A long wait. Then came the answer, in a very small voice, so that Rarity had to actually press an ear against the door to make out the words. "I don't feel like walking any more." "Well, that's all right, dear," said Rarity. "I can just sit and talk with you inside." "No!" cried Fluttershy. Again, there was that inexplicable fear in her voice. "All right," said Rarity. "But I am going to talk to you, Fluttershy -- your behavior is really worrying me, and there is no way I am going to leave my dearest friend alone when she feels as badly as you obviously do. So, I suppose I could talk to you through this door -- though it feels a little silly, darling, doesn't it?" A moment's silence. Then the sound of a bar being lifted and shot across -- Fluttershy's house had a very thick door, with a very solid oaken bar, as if she felt it very important to be able to shut out the outside world when she wanted -- and a lock turning. The door opened to reveal a very unhappy-looking Fluttershy. Her pink mane was disheveled, probably from her gallop home, and her big blue eyes were reddened. She wiped away a few stray tears as she let her friend in. "I suppose I can't just get you to go back home?" asked Fluttershy. There was resentment under the meekness. "But why, my dear?" asked Rarity, trotting quietly into Fluttershy's parlor. "We were having such an interesting conversation, and then those two brutes were rude, yes, but why should we let that spoil our afternoon together? They were just common louts, noponies about whose opinions we need be concerned. One must learn to rise above such unfortunate encounters." "It wasn't that," said Fluttershy. "They were just two meanies -- maybe not really meanies, just lonely -- it wasn't them." She cast her eyes down. She seemed to be calming: she had surrendered to Rarity's intrusion, and was now once again able to enjoy the company of her friend. "Then what was it?" asked Rarity. "You seemed positively aghast." "It was ..." Fluttershy looked around the parlor, as if suddenly realizing where she was. "Oh no," she said. "I can't talk about that. Not here." Rarity was more than a bit mystified. What place could be safer for Fluttershy than her own home? "Would you rather retire to some other chamber," she asked. "Your kitchen? Your bedroom?" Fluttershy actually shuddered at that last suggestion. "My bedroom ... no, especially not there. I don't want to ever have to think about ... not there." She cringed. "Then where, darling?" "Could ... would it be all right if we went over to your house?" Fluttershy asked, still cringing. "Of course!" replied Rarity, relieved that Fluttershy seemed to have become more reasonable. "My house is always open to my friend." *** Nopony appeared to be interested in patronizing the Carousel Boutique right now, which was a situation which normally might have made Rarity feel a bit discouraged, but which right now suited her purposes just fine. To make certain that their afternoon remained undistrubed, Rarity made sure that the "Closed" side of the sign on her door was still facing outward, then went in and drew all the curtains. The light of the fall afternoon filtered dimly in through the windows. Rarity sat Fluttershy down in her parlor, went into the kitchen, lit a fire under her stove and began boiling water. She got out some scones and some slices of cake, arranged them on plates and made the tea, adding some milk and honey. She walked back into the parlor, bringing the tea and snacks with her in her aura and set them down, spilling neither drop nor crumb. "Thank you," said Fluttershy, relaxing somewhat as she took a sip of the tea. One thing Rarity had always noticed about Fluttershy was her extreme calm in situations like this: for all her shyness and anxiety, Fluttershy was not in the least bit afraid of any formally-friendly setting. It was one of the traits which made it very obvious to a discerning eye that the yellow-and-pink pegasus had been raised by someponies in the highest social register. It was, in fact, one of the things that had first drawn Rarity to Fluttershy, before she had come to appreciate the many deeper virtues of her friend. They enjoyed the tea and cakes for a while, then Fluttershy looked at Rarity quite directly. "I suppose you're wondering why I did ... what I just did ... when we were walking." "Yes," said Rarity, nodding, "It did strike me as a trifle unusual." "I guess I have to tell you now," said Fluttershy. "Or you'll keep worrying about me. I wouldn't -- well, I've thought about it from time to time, but I'd never really -- I'm not going to hurt myself. Whenever I think about it, I remember I have real friends -- yourself, and Rainbow -- and my animals -- the world can be beautiful," she said, with an odd emphasis, as if she were trying to convince somepony. "I'm glad to hear that," replied Rarity, not a tremor betraying the shock she felt. She'd known that Fluttershy was sometimes depressed, but it had never occurred to her that she could be that depressed. Rarity had never been that depressed, not more than once, not even after -- no time to think of her own past troubles now, when her friend so obviously needed her. "It wasn't those two workponies," said Fluttershy. "It was that ... place. The Carrot and Stick." Her hoof trembled with her whole body as she spoke the name, and some of the tea slopped over the side. "Oh!" she said contritely, putting down the now half-empty teacup. "I'm so sorry -- I stained your lovely rug!" "Think nothing of it, my dear." Rarity reached for a washcloth with her aura, dabbed up the mess, all without taking her attention off her friend. "There, see! it's all taken care of." She put the washcloth in her laundry bin. The blind telekinetic manipulation she had just preformed was as trivial for her as it would have been difficult for most unicorns; there was really only one other in Ponyville who could have exceeded her in this facility, and Rarity was her superior at fine manipulation. "You were mentioning that seedy little bar?" "Yes ... well, it was four years ago. I'd been in Ponyville a few years by then, but I didn't really have any friends other than Rainbow Dash and yourself. And at that time Rainbow was away in Flight School, and you were studying in Fillydelphia. So ... I was a bit lonely. I had my animals, but there's only so much conversation I can have with any of them." She almost whispered the last, as if it were shameful that her desire for social contact could not be fully gratified by non-sapient beasts. Rarity herself liked animals, especially her adorable little cat Opalescence, but thought that Fluttershy perhaps liked them a bit too much. She would never, of course, have let Fluttershy know of this opinion. "I thought possibly I might make some new friends," Fluttershy continued. "So I went somewhere ponies go to meet other ponies. I went to ..." she swallowed, "... the Carrot and Stick." She looked up at Rarity fearfully, as if she was about to be struck down by her friend in punishment for her long-ago folly. That dingy little place? Rarity thought, but carefully did not say aloud. What possessed you to do that? This is Ponyville, there's always some sort of dance or social going on. But then maybe that fact wasn't as obvious to Fluttershy, who had always counted on Rarity to take her to places like that, who was too shy to ask anypony else about the occurrence of such events. Maybe to Fluttershy, a dingy workingpony's bar seemed as good as any other place. And it's hardly that bad, Rarity realized. Frequented by the lower classes, yes, but mostly the honest lower classes. Such as those two teamsters. They were crude, but harmless enough. Rarity had not felt at all threatened the one time she'd ventured in there, just to see what it was like. How had Fluttershy come to grief? It was obvious enough that something very unpleasant had occurred to her at the Carrot and Stick, however. And Rarity -- who was refined but not at all naive -- did not like the directions in which her own speculations were proceeding. Rarity noticed that Fluttershy had fallen completely silent. "So, what happened when you went in there?" Rarity asked, affecting a calm joviality which was utterly at odds with her true sentiments. "Well," replied Fluttershy, "It wasn't so bad at first. I just sat there, and drank, and talked to a couple of ponies -- none of them really wanted to be friends but they weren't mean to me -- one of them said I should go home, though, that wasn't very nice --" Rarity could picture a sixteen-year-old Fluttershy, incredibly-innocent and devastatingly-beautiful, and could well imagine why some pony -- finding her sitting alone in a common workingpony's bar, might have offered her such advice, for reasons that were quite nice indeed. "Then one stallion started to talk to me. He seemed really nice. He seemed to be really smart, and had a great sense of humor, and everypony liked him. I never got his real name, but everypony called him "Nosey," or "Smiles." He was a blue unicorn, and he had the strangest cutie mark -- like a whole herd of ponies, running across his flank. He took me from place to place, all over the town, and I had some drinks with him -- I'd never really been out drinking before," Fluttershy's expression became wistful.. "He made me feel really adult and sophisticated, just like him -- he was a bit older than me." Oh, I'll just bet he was, thought Rarity, who now fully realized just where this story was likely to go, and was trying to contain a growing anger at this mystery older stallion, who had not seen fit to give Fluttershy his name, apparently to make certain that the naive filly he was taking out on the town -- and her family, and friends -- would be unable to track him later. She was trying to keep her expression carefully neutral, but must not have been doing as perfect a job as she thought, because Fluttershy flinched from her. "Oh," Fluttershy said. "You're angry. I'm sorry -- I know I behaved like a foal." Rarity was unsure whether her friend meant her recent panicked flight from the Carrot and Stick, or Fluttershy's behavior on that night four years ago, but in either case her answer would have been the same. "Oh no," Rarity said, reaching forward to pat Fluttershy's hoof. "No, darling. I"m not angry at you." That was no lie. "Please, do continue." "Well, after a while I was getting tired and a bit tipsy, so he walked me back to my cottage, and I told him all the names of my animals, and he looked at my henhouse, and my chrysanthemums; and he listened to me -- I thought he was interested in what I had to say." Fluttershy's whole face and form were cringing now, head and ears drooping, wings folded tightly against her sides, in what had to be one of the most sorrowful expressions Rarity had ever seen on Fluttershy's face, worse in most ways than the times she'd actually seen her friend crying. Rarity regretted having asked her to continue, but it was too late now. Rarity had to know the rest, if only to be able to help Fluttershy: without helping her, making her relive this would be mere cruelty. "So then he started nuzzling me, and touching me, and ... well ..." Fluttershy hid her head behind her long mane, so that Rarity could barely see her beautiful blue eyes peeping out through the forest of pink, "... he made love to me, and I let him do anything he wanted, because I thought it meant he loved me and I loved him and I just wanted to be loved because I was so lonely!" Fluttershy's voice was barely a squeak through all of this until the last phrase, during which her volume rose until the last word, "lonely," was a desperate shriek that forced Rarity to pin her ears all the way back to save her hearing. After that Fluttershy was quiet for a long while, just stood there shuddering silently, and Rarity nearly started to say something -- when Fluttershy unexpectedly resumed speaking, at a much more normal level of volume -- for Fluttershy. "And I liked it. I really really liked it. I know I shouldn't have because I knew later that he didn't love me but I liked it anyway." Fluttershy said this with a strange defiance, as if she expected Rarity to attack her on this point. You're not alone in that, Rarity thought to herself. It just took me many months to figure out what you probably found out very soon afterward. Celestia help us both. But Rarity did not speak aloud, for this was not about her own dark memories. She could not afford to take the time for self-pity; she needed to be there for Fluttershy. And then Fluttershy said something very strange. "And I should have known even then because he didn't taste right. Not like love -- I've felt love before, from my animals and from you and Rainbow Dash. But I'd never really felt sexual love -- I still haven't -- and I thought that it tasted different than --" Suddenly she seemed to realize what she was saying and ended with. "I guess I'm not making a lot of sense. I'm sorry." "It's all right," said Rarity. She had no idea what Fluttershy was talking about -- maybe she had an exceptionally good sense of flehmen, or something like that -- it varied from Pony to Pony. But it sounded like an unimportant detail, though two and a half years later, in Canterlot, she would remember it and realize what she had failed to grasp then. "Is there any more?" "Well, after that we both fell asleep -- in my bed ..." said Fluttershy. And Rarity knew why Fluttershy hadn't wanted to tell this to her at her cottage -- especially in her bedroom. "... and when I woke up, I felt really happy. I thought I'd finally found a stallion who loved me." Fluttershy's voice was almost wondering, as if she was amazed that she had still been that naive, after the night she'd remembered. Oh, Fluttershy, thought Rarity. It's not making love that hardens one. At that moment, you were still a complete innocent, in every way that mattered. Strange, that so many ponies got this rather key point so completely wrong. "I was an idiot." Fluttershy was obviously struggling to keep her affect flat, and failing: the bitterness was bleeding through. "He didn't love me. He didn't even like me. I could feel nothing from him as he left my house -- he didn't even stay for breakfast. I told myself it was because he was tired, because maybe I drained him too much in my excitement ..." And again, Rarity misunderstood what Fluttershy had let slip, a misunderstanding that would come to haunt her later, in a moment of horror still far in the future, in Canterlot. "I gave him my address, so he could write to me," Fluttershy continued. "I thought he'd want to do that. Wouldn't you want to do that, after ...?" She stopped and looked mutely at Rarity, who blinked back a tear of her own. "And I gave him a few chrysanthemums -- I put them in a little pot for him. I gave them to him to remember me by, and because they were the only flowers I had to give him." Fluttershy made a very strange sound, somewhere between a hiccup and a laugh. "And yes, I know that was ironic. And symbolic. I never finished Flight School, but I'm well-read enough to know that." She pounded her hoof against the floor, making a thump that surprised both of them. "I suppose when you're the daughter of High Lady Sweetwing Wind, it's in your blood. Tragic symbolism. That's funny." She made the same hiccup-laugh sound. "So then after he left, I was really happy -- because I thought I'd hear from him, see him again, that this was a whole new wonderful part of my life beginning." Fluttershy was not at all shy now in her normal way. Instead her voice held a brittleness that terrified Rarity, because it reminded her of her own darkest thoughts, years ago in Fillydelphia. Rarity did not think that way any more, had not for a very long time, and it frightened her because she remembered the darkest of the thoughts she'd had, back then, when ... "I started on the road into town," Fluttershy continued. "And then I saw the note I'd written him -- the one with my address on it. I thought he'd dropped it. And then I saw something else ... something that made it all obvious to me just how stupid I'd been. "It was the flower pot. The little flower pot I'd put the flowers in." She looked at Rarity, as if she felt the need to explain her reasoning to her friend. "He couldn't have dropped it by accident, because he'd at least have kept the flowers. He'd thrown it away, on purpose. Because it meant nothing to him." Fluttershy gazed intensely into Rarity's eyes, and Rarity saw that Fluttershy's own eyes were now welling with tears. "Because I meant nothing to him. Not just that he didn't love me. That I was nothing to him. "I didn't know what I'd done wrong. I tried to make him happy. Every way I could. It just wasn't enough, I just wasn't enough. I suppose I wasn't experienced enough -- but how could I get more experienced, unless I just went out and did that kind of thing again and again and again, with different stallions, until one of them wanted to stay -- and I couldn't do that. It would have been too nasty -- and also I realized something else." Fluttershy's voice was going ragged now, as she lost control over its tone. "He'd taken me all over town. He'd taken me all over Ponyville. Everypony knew what we'd done. Everypony knew I was ... bad. And not very good at it. And if I went into town they'd be staring at me, all of them staring at me, and laughing at me." Her expression was now wild with fear. "So I galloped home, just like I did today, and I closed the door and hid, and ..." The words trailed off into an inarticulate keening sound. Fluttershy bent over and started really sobbing, heaving convulsively, her mane completely hiding her face now as she lay down on the floor, looking as if she wanted to crawl under the table. Rarity slowly walked around the table. She very much did not want to frighten Fluttershy. She was very worried, at this moment, what a frightened Fluttershy might not do. Rarity was not afraid for herself, though she knew that Fluttershy had a powerful and not-well-understood psychic ability, which looked very much like mind control. She knew that Fluttershy would never hurt her. She was less certain that Fluttershy wouldn't hurt herself. Rarity crouched down beside her sobbing friend. Tears were actually good at this point -- it meant that Fluttershy was finally letting out her sorrow, her bitterness, her anger at the cruel trick that had been played upon her four years ago. Was Fluttershy angry? Rarity wasn't sure. It was sometimes difficult to read Fluttershy. Rarity only knew that she herself was angry, and if that stallion had been teleported into her parlor right now, Rarity would have had difficulty restraining herself from demonstrating to him exactly how much she knew about hoof-to-hoof fighting. Which would have been illegal, and insane, and wrecked her parlor besides, especially when she began to draw blood with some of the more extreme moves -- she clamped down on her fury. It was pointless; she couldn't help Fluttershy at all that way. "Fluttershy?" she asked softly. The convulsive crying continued. Rarity reached out a hoof to Fluttershy's, covered it gently. Nothing more -- the last thing she wanted to do to Fluttershy was anything she might even remotely consider sexual, considering the context. She wondered how much of the language of affection had been poisoned for her friend, and again had to suppress her own anger. She tried to focus instead on her empathy, her caring for her friend, tried to somehow make it apparent to Fluttershy through that hoof to hoof contact. She imagined, almost felt something flowing out from her. Whatever it was, she gave of it generously, and it must have helped, because in a few moments her friend stopped sobbing. Fluttershy turned her swollen, tear-streaked face to Rarity. "Thank you," she said, in what almost an approximation of her normal voice. "I think I needed to -- express myself on this -- with somepony else. You're the first pony I've ever told about this, you know." Rarity hadn't known this for certain, though she'd suspected -- the only other pony she could have seen Fluttershy telling was Rainbow Dash, and she didn't think Dashie would have had the first clue as to how to handle such a revelation. Knowing Rainbow Dash, she would have just wanted to fly in search of this "Nosey" and hit him, which -- while a tempting thought -- was a plan both unlikely to work and even less likely to solve any of Fluttershy's problems. "I'm glad you chose to confide in me," replied Rarity. "I'm sorry that you had to go through such an upsetting experience, all those years ago, but you should know that you weren't a bad pony. You just made a mistake, that's all. Good ponies make mistakes, darling, it doesn't make them bad. At least you weren't cruel to anypony." Rarity had been, and she still winced inwardly at those memories. "No ..." said Fluttershy, "but I was weak." "You were lonely," said Rarity. "Ponies need other Ponies. They do strange things when they're alone too long. There's even a term for it ..." "Lone-Madness," said Fluttershy, speaking with some assurance. "We used to call it Sky-Madness, and some Pegasi get lost in it forever. But that's not what I meant when I said I was weak." "What did you mean, then?" "I have something from my mother," Fluttershy explained, softly but otherwise in a normal conversational tone.. "An honor-blade, very old -- Mother said it had been forged in the North-Realm, almost fifteen hundred years ago, when my family led the Guards of Derecho, and defended the North. I used to take it out sometimes, and turn it over and over, and think about how I could stop having to worry about feeling lonely, or inadequate -- forever." "Darling!" said Rarity with some alarm. "It's in the Traditions, you know," continued Fluttershy. "That's actually what an honor-blade is for, though this one had of course never been used for that purpose -- because it's also in the Traditions that after it's used for that it's never used again. It's the last release for one of us who follows the Old Ways, you see, and then that blade dies with its mistress, and the metal is reforged into another honor-blade. A beautiful thought, really ..." "There's nothing beautiful about ..." Rarity could barely say it. "About killing yourself. Think of all the ugliness you'd leave behind for your friends." "But that's just it," said Fluttershy, still calm. "I didn't have any friends. Not pony friends, anyway. Do you know why I never did it?" "Because you wanted to live?" asked Rarity. "Because my animals needed me. If I was gone, who would take care of them? And once -- when I was sadder than usual -- I remembered that I had a friend I really wanted to see again." Rarity knew who that friend would be. Not herself, as they'd only been casual acquaintances before Rarity had left for Fillydelphia. "Rainbow Dash?" Rarity asked her. Fluttershy nodded, then looked contrite. "Oh -- I don't mean that I don't like you too -- I could never have this conversation with Dashie -- it's just that I've known her for so long, since we were both small ..." "I understand," said Rarity, smiling. "She really loves you. I'm not offended by the fact that you love her back." "You can't ever tell her this!" Fluttershy said, suddenly seeming to realize how much she'd confessed. "She'd despise me." "Oh, I don't know about that," replied Rarity. She'd seen some of the worshipful looks that Rainbow Dash directed at Fluttershy, especially when Fluttershy wasn't watching. "I'm pretty sure it would take more than an awareness of one youthful indiscretion to make Dashie despise her fillyhood friend. Still, I shan't tell her," she quickly added, as she noticed the look of panic on her friend's face. "Good." Fluttershy relaxed a bit, rolling a bit onto her side so as to more easily face Rarity. After a moment, Rarity copied the motion, so that they lay facing one another on the rug of Rarity's parlor -- normally a ridiculous postion, but one that right now Rarity felt to be entirely natural. "Fluttershy," asked Rarity, "You wouldn't hurt yourself now, would you? Because I know what happened now, and I don't despise you -- I love you and admire you as much as I always have, you must believe me on this. You're a thoroughly wonderful mare and you're one of my best friends, and I would be very sorry if anything happened to you. Do you believe me?" "Yes," said Fluttershy, smiling. "I can tell that you love me. Thank you for that. Though I don't know how you can still think highly of me, now that you know how terribly inadequate I am." "Inadequate?" asked Rarity. "You mean, because you didn't commit suicide? Why would I want you to --?" She stopped, confused. Rarity could tell by the look of impatience on Fluttershy's face that there was something she was entirely not understanding about Fluttershy's perception of the situation. "No," said Fluttershy. "Because Nosey didn't like me." She sighed. "I've had four years now to come to terms with the fact that I'm simply not very loveable." And Rarity realized that Fluttershy had entirely misunderstood everything that had happened to her > Chapter 3: A Hope For the Future > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Fluttershy, darling," Rarity said slowly, "you are extremely loveable." Fluttershy shook her head sadly. "You're being very nice to me. I'm grateful to you for it. But I know I'm not loveable. I wasn't loved the one time I ever tried to make love. I barely have any friends. I hide in my cottage. Most ponies look right through me. I'm not popular." "Fluttershy," said Rarity, rolling upright to sit on her rump. Fluttershy also sat up to join her. "Let me tell you about yourself," Rarity continued. "You are absolutely, utterly beautiful. You look like some princess from an old painting brought to life. Do you think I'm beautiful?" Fluttershy was flushing a little at the earlier compliments, but she nodded in response to Rarity's question. "I have to sit at my toilette for an hour every morning to look like this," said Rarity. "You look devastatingly beautiful when you wake up with your hair in a mess. You look beautiful sopping wet. You have a natural elegance about you that most professional models would kill to achieve, and I don't think you've ever been trained as a model. You move with a grace I've never seen in any other Pegasus, and that includes aloft, for all you think you're a terrible flier." "I'm not really all that good a flier," Fluttershy pointed out, leaning forward. "Compared to Dashie I'm standing still." "Well, you look good standing still," said Rarity. "And anyway, pretty much every other Pegasus is standing still compared to Rainbow Dash. She's an incredibly fast flier. And you are incredbily graceful. Do you understand me?" "Well, maybe I'm not all that ugly," conceded Fluttershy. "But love is about more than looks." "Indeed," said Rarity. "True love is about character. And you are also one of the nicest, kindest and sweetest Ponies I have ever known. You put yourself out tremendously to take care of your animals, you're good to anypony who isn't totally mean to you -- your worst fault socially is that you choose to hide yourself from others, so your friends often have to seek you out. Which we do, Fluttershy. Because we love your company." "I'm not that nice," said Fluttershy, frowning as she considered her own recent actions. "I didn't want to let you into my house earlier. That wasn't very friendly of me." "You were under a bit of strain," Rarity pointed out, unable to entirely keep the sarcasm out of your voice. "What kind of a friend would I be if I didn't take that into account? And normally, you are a very polite Pony. Your manners are at least as good as Twilight Sparkle's, and she was raised in the Royal Court. You exude class -- I noticed that about you the very first time I met you. You're like a diamond in the mud of this provincial little town." Fluttershy outright blushed at this praise, but she also smiled. "You're just being nice to me," she said, "but thank you anyway." "No, really," insisted Rarity. "I cannot emphasize how admirable and beautiful and loveable in every way you are in truth. Fluttershy --" she looked directly into her friend's eyes, "if I were not as straight as one of my rulers, I would probably be in love with you. And I could not love you more as a friend than I do. Anypony, of either sex, who gets to know you well and doesn't love you is an imbecile, with absolutely no taste in companions. Have I made myself clear?" Fluttershy nodded, her face bright red, but notably not trying to hide behind her hair. She smiled warmly. Then she frowned. "But there's one thing wrong with that," she pointed out. "The one time I actually did ... become intimate with somepony ... he didn't like me afterward. So there must be something wrong with me, something that becomes obvious when somepony gets that close to me." "Oh, that no-account philliper?" Rarity asked angrily. Fluttershy winced, and Rarity moderated her tone. "Darling, I'm not mad at you," Rarity clarified. "I'm just upset that you put so much credence in the opinions of such an obviously false and unworthy individual as this 'Nosey,' who wasn't even honest enough to tell you his right name. I wouldn't trust him to sell me a properly-made ribbon, let alone to advise me in matters of the heart. And in any case, he was never interested in being your friend, or really your lover either. It had absolutely nothing to do with anything you said or did -- you couldn't win with him. Can't you see that?" Fluttershy looked mystified. "Wait," she said. "I thought it was that I wasn't very good in ..." "No!" Rarity shouted. "It had nothing to do with that!" Fluttershy was sufficiently curious about Rarity's point that this time she did not flinch from the shouting. "What do you mean?" she asked. Rarity sighed. She would have to spell it out, and she hated to be so direct on such an ugly topic. Sometimes, however, refinement had to yield to the demands of friendship. "Nosey wasn't looking for a friend. He wasn't even looking for a lover, not in the sense that you or I would use the term. He was only looking to get laid." On those last three words, Rarity completely dropped her normal Stormy Elite pronounciation, and the dialect of the decent but unassuming lower middle-class home in which she had been born and raised showed through nakedly. Neither of them even noticed this, such was the emotional tension of the moment. "Wait," asked Fluttershy, "wouldn't that make him care more about how good I ..." "No." said Rarity flatly. "He went into that bar looking for a mare -- any mare, who was heterosexual and not entirely hideous, who would be willing for whatever reason to walk out of there with him. The fact that he found a goddess out slumming probably made him happier, but he would have settled for anypony. He didn't care about who you were at all." Fluttershy looked hurt. "But he was so nice to me at first ..." "Yes," said Rarity. "He was nice to you because he wanted something. Sex. And nothing more. And then when he'd gotten it, he had what he wanted so it was time to leave, before he risked engaging you in conversation and perhaps being tempted to come back. Because he wanted to avoid any complications." "But you just said I was really nice and loveable -- wouldn't he want to come back to somepony nice and loveable?" Fluttershy was looking more and more confused. "No," Rarity was being almost mercilessly direct now, a side of herself few Ponies saw outside of the hardest phase of business negotiations. She didn't like behaving like this to a dear friend, but she felt she had to make Fluttershy see what had actually happened that night four years ago, for her friend's own good. "As I said, he wanted to avoid any complications. Love is a complication. Even friendship is a complication." "What?" asked Fluttershy. "But isn't that why one would want to be with somepony special? Love? Friendship?" "Yes," said Rarity. "For you or I. And for quite a lot of other Ponies, both mares and stallions. Most of them, I should imagine. But not for Nosey." She marshaled her thoughts, trying to find a way to explain it so that her sweet and still evidently far too naive friend could really grasp it. "Try to look at it from Nosey's perspective," Rarity continued, her tone softening a bit. "Not from Nosey if he were yourself as a stallion, but from Nosey the way he really was, the way he obviously was from every aspect of his behavior. He went into that bar looking for somepony to have sex with. He did not want a friend. He did not want a lover. That's plain from what he did the next morning. "Why didn't he want a friend or lover? I don't know the answer. Maybe he was simply a cold and callous sort of stallion. Maybe he had a special somepony, or even a wife and foals, waiting back home for him. Maybe he just wanted to hurt you ---" Fluttershy looked at her friend in shock. "Surely nopony would --" "Yes," said Rarity flatly. "Someponies would." She briefly remembered a younger Rarity in Fillydelphia, and just how she had discovered this painful truth about equine nature. "It doesn't really matter why he was trying to avoid making any sort of emotional connection with you. The point is that this is what he was doing. "The things he said to you? The way he seemed interested in your life, your thoughts, your animals? It was just an act. He was simply saying whatever would work to get into your heart, because he had to assume that you might be somepony who was looking for a friend, a true lover, who would be driven off if you knew that he was just looking for a one-night stand. He was lying, Fluttershy, and he knew exactly what he was doing." Fluttershy's expression was one of utter shock. She'd obviously never looked at it this way before. "So it didn't matter how good or bad you were sexually," Rarity said. "If Ponies actually like one another, inexperience is rarely a real problem anyway -- they can always work such matters out over time. You could have been the most incredible lover in the history of love, and he still would have left that morning, and never come back. It had nothing to do with you. Can you see that?" Fluttershy nodded dumbly. "You came into that bar looking for a friend. He came in there looking for sex. You were playing two different games. There was no way for you to win as long as you played with him. In the future, just don't get into the game with a stallion like Nosey. And stay away from bars like that -- most of the stallions you'll meet in such places are more or less like Nosey. Do you see?" A look of comprehension was dawning on Fluttershy's face. "Yes ..." Fluttershy said slowly. "I think I do see. But you're wrong about one thing ... sorry ... but I think it's important to mention it." "What's that, darling?" Rarity asked. She was glad to see that at least some of what she'd said had clearly penetrated, but still wasn't certain that Fluttershy had gotten her point. "We were playing the same game," Fluttershy said. "We were just choosing different strategies ..." "How so?" "Birds." "Eh?" Rarity was now thoroughly mystified. "Most mammals just mate in season and don't stay together afterward," Fluttershy said. "Sometimes they just stay together long enough for the male to perform the act and then immediately separate. I used to think that Ponies were different because we're smarter and have civilization and morals, so that's why mating means more to us." Her gaze was direct, her ears up, her voice clear. "Well, we do, darling," said Rarity. "At least most Ponies do." "But I was wrong," said Fluttershy. "It's not about having better morals. It's about having a different strategy." "You've lost me," Rarity admitted. "Ponies are pregnant for ten months," Fluttershy said, "and we're increasingly helpless as the time approaches. We have difficult childbirths compared to most animals, because of our big heads, which we have to have in order to be smart. And then we have foals who take eight or more years to grow to the point that they can be trusted to spend much time on their own, and even longer to learn enough to be productive members of society." "Yes, that's true," said Rarity. "But what does that have to do with morals?" "There are two basic reproductive strategies for a species," Fluttershy explained. "High-r, or 'reproduction,' which means 'have a lot of babies and then abandon them to the chances of Nature.' That's what most insects and fish do. And high-k, or 'care," which means 'have one or a few babies but take very good care of them.' Ponies are at the extreme end of high-k -- we only have one foal at a time but we take very good care of our foals." "I see ..." said Rarity. "But morals?" "If you're a high-k mother," Fluttershy continued, "you need to put a lot of effort into your baby. You need to put so much effort that you endanger your own survival. It's a lot better if the father also takes care of the mother and foal, isn't it? And keeps on taking care of them as the foal grows to adulthood?" "Well of course," said Rarity. "Everypony knows that being a single mother is a hard fate." "Most mammals aren't that high-k," Fluttershy said. "Nothing like Ponies. But some birds are." "Back to birds." Rarity wasn't sure where this was going. "Yes. A bird lays an egg, and has to sit on it, and she can't go very far from her nest to get food. And then the egg hatches, and she has a hatchling, and she has to get food for the hatchling and protect it against predators. And it can take a while before the chick is old enough to fly, and even longer before it is developed enough to survive on its own. So birds are high-k animals. "Well, some birds are," Fluttershy clarified her point. "The ones that are high-k are called 'altrucial,' because the parents have to behave altruistically to their chicks or they won't survive. But then there are other birds who have chicks which don't spend very much time in the nest, which can go off on their own in a matter of weeks. These birds are called 'precocial,' because the chicks are 'precocious.' And they tend to lay more eggs -- they are using a high-r reproductive strategy. "Now, here's the interesting thing. High-k birds tend to mate for at least a season, and sometimes for life, like swans. But high-r birds mate just like most mammals -- the male will show off for the female, and mate her, and then fly away. The reason why, of course, is that the high-k mother needs the father to stick around; the high-r mother doesn't need the father for anything but his seed." Rarity noticed that when Fluttershy was talking about biology from a scientific perspective, she displayed neither shame nor any particular shyness. This was her specialty, and within it she was very confident. "I think I see what you're getting at," said Rarity. "The altrucial birds have -- well, better morals." "Yes -- from a Pony point of view," replied Fluttershy. "But then of course we'd see things that way. We're very high-k creatures ourselves -- more like altrucial birds than precocial ones." "You're right," agreed Rarity. "And here's an even more interesting thing," said Fluttershy. "Dedicated birdwatchers have noticed that in some species -- especially ones that are around midway between the two reproductive strategies -- the birds in a mated pair can cheat on one another!" "Who would have thought it?" murmured Rarity. "Should I be shocked at such scandals in the avian community?" "Or," Fluttershy said a bit sadly, "sometimes the male will pretend to form a pair-bond -- that's what happens when altrucial birds mate -- but he doesn't really mean it. He'll get the female pregnant and just fly on. Sometimes he has a real mate and also tries to mate with many other females." "Isn't it just like stallions?" commented Rarity. "Yes," said Fluttershy. "It is. And here's why. "The male bird -- the male of most animal species -- doesn't have to commit much when he mates. Just a little time and energy and seed. But the female gets pregnant, and grows a baby, which takes a lot of nutrition -- and in high-k species she has to care for her offspring. So what this means is that the female has to be more choosy about who she mates with than does the male. There's a basic asymmetry in the situation -- if he chooses a poor mate, he can just fly on to the next one, and if he impregnates a lot of females and helps none of them, he can just count on sheer numbers of offspring to make up for the poorer care given each one. But if she chooses unwisely, she has to take care of the chick on her own, and it's much less likely to survive." "Now I see your point," Rarity said. "It's just like stallions and mares, then." She remembered her own unwise choice, long ago, and what had nearly happened to her in consequence. She looked away, not wanting to meet Fluttershy's gaze. "I once didn't think so," Fluttershy said. "Because we are intelligent, and moral. But then perhaps I was wrong." She looked very sad at the shattering of her illusions. "Well," Rarity said, "Some stallions." She looked back at Fluttershy. "My parents can be annoying," she confided. "But they love each other madly. They have my whole life. I've never seen my father look seriously at another mare. And the way he looks at my mother -- it can be very embarrassing, but it's also very beautiful." "You're fortunate," said Fluttershy. "My ... my mother's husband abandoned her, soon after I was born." She looked down sadly. "I always hoped I could find somepony better than she did." "You shall," said Rarity, patting her friend's hoof. "You just need to understand that it may not be the first stallion you meet. And you need to learn how to reject the stallions who don't really care about you." "Exactly!" said Fluttershy. "And that's where game theory comes in." "I was thinking more in terms of discernment and restraint," said Rarity. "Yes," said Fluttershy. "That's exactly the right strategy. In the game." "Game?" Rarity tilted her head inquiringly. "I ..." Fluttershy wilted briefly, then rephrased it. "A female would want a male who would stay with her after mating, which would mean a lot of commitment from a single mate. A male might want either to stay with his mate and take care of their offspring, which would be ideal for the female; or he might want to just spread his seed as widely as possible, and abandon each female in turn." Rarity noticed that Fluttershy perked up again when she moved from the personal to the theoretical. "In Pony terms," Fluttershy said,"that mare would be looking for a friend ... a lover ... a husband. But the stallion might be looking for the same thing, or he might just be looking to mate and fly on." She looked sad for a moment, then continued. "So how can the mare tell what the stallion really wants?" "That," said Rarity, "is truly a conundrum." "So what she does," said Fluttershy, "is see if the male is seriously willing to court her. In birds that would involve him doing a dance for her, or bringing her gifts of food. I suppose in Ponies it would be talking to her, taking her out to restaurants ... showing he cared about her. But he could be only pretending to be interested in her. And I guess she could only be pretending to be interested in him?" Rarity nodded. "So each of them has two possible strategies in the game," Fluttershy said. "From his perspective, she's 'cooperating' if she mates with him, 'betraying' if she takes his gifts and doesn't mate with him. And from her perspective, he's 'cooperating' if he stays with her, 'betraying' if she leaves right afterward. It's the Prisoner's Dilemma! "But the problem," she continued, "is that if they do it that way, there's only one iteration to the game. And she can't let it work that way, because if she mates with him and he flies away, she'll be ..." Fluttershy swallowed, "very sad. And she might ..." Fluttershy's voice got very low, "... have a foal. I was afraid, right after that night ..." She started to cringe again, ears lowering, face going behind her hair. "The game, darling," said Rarity. "Continue explaining the game." "Oh, right," said Fluttershy, straightening her posture. "So the female makes it an indefinitely iterated game. She only allows certain intimacies in the early rounds, to give him reason to hope she's interested, while giving herself time to figure out if he's serious. And that way, if he is serious, he'll stick around long enough for her to mate with him, and if he's not serious, he'll fly away before she lets him mate her and then she won't have to worry about being a single mother while he spreads his seed to all the other females! She can do Nice Tit-For-Tat based on his behavior, and if he's Nice long enough she figures he's serious!" Fluttershy smiled triumphantly, clearly considering herself the discoverer of a new scientific principle. It's actually a very old principle, thought Rarity, and it's one I think I was born knowing. But I think she's got it. This was, essentially, what I was trying to explain to her. It was, of course, more complex than that -- much more complex than that -- but Fluttershy had the main point down perfectly. "Yes, darling," said Rarity. "You're correct." Even if there are two normal meanings of the term "nice" in this particular context, and one of them is almost the direct opposite of the other. But then, maybe Fluttershy's actually stating it more logically. Ponies aren't always very logical, in matters of the heart. "I ... I had it completely wrong before, didn't I?" Fluttershy said. "I just wanted to be nice, and I assumed that he wanted to be nice too, so I thought that we'd both win. But we didn't. I picked Nice, and he picked Nasty, and he got all the payoff, and I got less than nothing." Her voice was soft, but she could say it now steadily, and without crying. "I couldn't have won, the way I was playing the game. My strategy wasn't a robust solution to the game." "Yes," said Rarity. She felt sad saying this. It was an admission that sometimes nice Ponies finished last, that sometimes Love and Friendship could not conquer all, because one was dealing with those who did not respect Kindness. This was not the world in which she wanted to live, but it was Reality, and refusing to face Reality was what led to madness, what led to sitting alone at home staring at an ancient honor blade -- or a pair of not-so-ancient sharp fabric-cutting scissors -- and contemplating what seemed to be easy solutions to Life's problems. So it was better to acknowledge Reality than to avoid it. "But, darling," Rarity said, "there's another, more fundamental way in which he didn't win." "How is that?" asked Fluttershy, looking with surprise at her friend. "He missed the chance to know a really wonderful Pony, a Pony who would have gladly been his friend and his lover and made him happier than a lout like that would ever have deserved," Rarity said, very seriously. "And I know this because your friendship makes me happier than anypony could possibly deserve." Fluttershy smiled at her friend, a small smile that grew into a look of tremendous happiness that warmed Rarity's own heart. "Now come on," said Rarity. "We're both messy from galloping and crying and rolling around on the floor and doing such other undignified things. We both need some good long relaxation. "Let's go to the spa." They both got to their hooves. As they turned toward the door, Fluttershy lowered her head, bumped, rubbed herself and leaned against Rarity's side, expressing wordlessly how much she loved her friend. Warmth spread from the point of contact. Rarity looked at Fluttershy, and could almost feel the happiness streaming out from Fluttershy's soul. She knew that Fluttershy's future would not be perfect, because nopony's ever was perfect in an imperfect world, but Rarity also knew that she had helped her friend understand what had happened to her four years ago, and in understanding take the first step to conquer the demons of a terrible memory. The two friends stepped out into the sunlight, together.