It was here, the wedding day. Fluttershy's grandmother was garbed in her finest purple gown, complimenting her tan coat, and her mane, wispy and gray as it was, was piled up upon her head and pinned with an ancient heirloom pin. The pin was fashioned to look like a phoenix jumping from the flames. Fluttershy, though she was not materialistic, had always loved that pin.
"Oh my Lady Grandmother, you look wonderful," gushed the young mare, smiling brightly.
The older one smiled and placed a hoof on her beloved granddaughter.
"My dear, you are the one who looks beautiful. I could not be more happy for you."
It was true. The young pegasus did look gorgeous in her fitted, white wedding dress. The gown had a stash just below her wings forming into a loose bow. The train was layered with lace and dotted with pearls. Her hair was loosely curled and woven with pearls into a bun. A veil covered her face and part of her neck. On her head was a little tiara, something she had inherited from her mother upon her untimely death.
Everypony arrived at a small church within the upper crust district of the town. It was a tiny church for a reason, mostly to keep out those who were not welcome. This was a wedding for the century: the lovely heiress and the handsome stallion with the best of names.
The church was decorated with white lilies, traditional for a "proper" wedding. The ceremony began late, as per usual, but once all of the ponies were seated, it began. A lovely yellow mare walked through the church, her face concealed. A handsome stallion stood waiting for her. What was ideal was not joyful, at least for the bride.
They were married with the exchange of two "yes"s: one proud and the other barely audible. Still the applause, the stampeding applause, was enough to overrule such a silent "yes."
The reception was at the opera house nearby. Ponies joined in conversation about travel, art, and fine culture. Of course, all of these upper class ponies had nothing to talk about but these things. Work was few in and far between; it was considered a low-class habit at best. This was why a woman should marry well. Money preserves the high-class way of life and a name was typically a mark of money.
Fluttershy sat at the bridal party table, away from where the other ponies were seated. Champagne was being poured and as far as she could see were happy faces. There were gold-covered statues and oil paintings lining all of the walls. There were paintings, too, of the opera's greatest works and performances. One was, oddly enough, of Coloratura, whom she had seen the night of her engagement.
She had sung a lovely song then, a grand arial It detailed her long life in poverty, stripped of her dignity. She had even forced to sell herself to gain a living. But in the aria she communicated her hopes for the future, despite her beauty beginning to fade away.
(Had Fluttershy been allowed to stay until the end of the opera, however, she would have seen how the aria played into the story. In the end, Coloratura's character sings about the death of her soul as she continues to sell her body. And, at the very end, she dies alone.)
From across the room the bride spotted her husband, once again chatting with the Countess. Why the Countess was at the wedding was a mystery to everyone. However it was beginning to start some juicy rumors about their "special relationship." Such rumors had not quite reached the bride herself, and even if it had, she might not have understood it.
Trenderhoof, eventually, returned to his lovely bride. He kissed her gently on the cheek and gestured to the ring on his horn. She smiled and placed a hoof by her neck, where her ring was hanging. Next to the bride, her grandmother was bawling.
But then the older mare began to cry too hard. Seizures once again racked her body. No doctors were in the crowd, so one was called for. By the time the doctor arrived, all he saw was the old mare's head resting on the lap of the bride—unmoving.
So ended the wedding of Lord Trenderhoof and Lady Fluttershy.