“It is so very strange, really, how mundane and ordinary things are the hardest to completely crush. Sometimes,” Rarity added, and sipped her tea. “I mean, two months ago I was in rather dire straits, and now I am here, sipping tea in the shade!”
“Well, everything can’t be exciting forever, I suppose,” Lyra responded. Rarity chuckled.
Five ponies sat under the canopy Pinkie had put up that morning. The tables surrounding Sugarcube Corner were one of Rarity’s favorite places, so long as the weather was agreeable. Before Rainbow and Twilight’s journey west, Rarity had suggested to Pinkie that they really ought to invest in something to keep the sun off, as it was unbearable in the summer. The afternoon was lazy, as afternoons should be, Rainbow thought. It was perfectly normal. Perfectly boring. School would be out soon, but not yet. Two mares from the community college a few miles up the road were looking into each other’s eyes dreamily at a far table, like that poem Rarity liked so much. The one about the lovers in each other’s forelegs, the one with the mechanical bird.
It would be normal, at least, if it weren’t for the little things.
Like Rarity’s harness, for instance, with it’s wheels and it’s stupid straps and it’s stupid little pads for her hooves. Rainbow hated the thing. Hated it. When Rarity got better, she was going to trash it. She daydreamed about carting it off to the mountains and kicking it off the side. Rarity would be there too, of course. They’d eat on some sunny trail and laugh at the worthless trash tumbling down the mountainside together. Rainbow would fly and Rarity would watch. The way things were always supposed to be.
Twilight was one of the little things. She was a fly in the ointment. It wasn’t that Rainbow minded her being there. Why would she? Twilight was her friend, even after all that had happened. She too had suffered, though not in a permanent fashion. Perhaps a bit. Rainbow wondered if that was a scar she saw, fading away, or just a trick of the hazy afternoon that graced her brow. Twilight’s eyes looked everywhere but straight ahead. They touched everything, absolutely everything, but Rarity and Rainbow. Her mouth was closed shut. How chaste.
Nasty thoughts weren't exactly something Rainbow usually felt ashamed about. A little bit of sarcasm never hurt anyone, but this time she felt it was a bit too much.
“Why, since I reopened last week, it’s been as if I never left!”
“Busy?” Bon-Bon asked. She rested against Lyra slightly. If you weren’t paying attention you would almost think it was an accident. Rainbow looked down at herself, curious. The way that she and Rarity sat, touching, obviously attached, was so much louder. Louder and prouder, she thought, resisting a chuckle. Not quite like the college mares. Bon-Bon and Lyra were a little older than Rainbow, though. Maybe it changed with age.
“Well… it is a bit hard to gauge. The heat and all,” Rarity said slowly. “But, I received an order yesterday that I am quite excited about!”
Rainbow’s ears perked. This was new. New was unpleasant.
“An order?” she asked.
All three of them looked at her. Twilight, of course, was pointedly not looking at her, but she knew Twilight was also listening in. Rainbow paused, suddenly worried. Had she sounded as nervous as she was feeling? What had her tone been? But the problem of speaking is that once spoke the words are gone. She couldn’t remember.
“Yes, I was going to tell you before I got to work on it tonight,” Rarity answered softly, but smiling. Rainbow watched that smile. “It’s a small order. Not one I’ll have trouble with, dear,” she added, like a plea.
“Who for? Would we know about them?” Bon-Bon asked, leaning in and looking back at Rarity. Over her head, Lyra’s eyes met Rainbow’s. Her head tilted slightly. She meant to say things but they were silent things and Rainbow looked away before she could guess at them.
“It’s… well, actually, it’s for Fancy Pants,” Rarity said. With each word, her explanation grew slower, less enthused. “He wrote me such a lovely letter, wondering if I might not be up to some simple work, something simple. He is a rather agrarian fellow, Fancy Pants. A gentleman of an old school.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, girls. I was distracted. Now, enough about me. There are plenty of things in the world that don’t involve my trivial doings.”
Rainbow looked at Rarity’s horn. Only for a moment, but still she considered it. The medication was working, but barely.
An odd mood came over Rainbow. It came like a breeze that’s a bit too warm, like the feeling the fire gives to freezing limbs. A crawling anxiety.
“Twilight,” she blurted, and everypony recoiled slightly. Rainbow blinked, as surprised as anypony, but continued on, kicking the elephant in the proverbial room. “How have you been? Did you ever get around to working on your notes?”
“Notes?” Her voice was quiet, far too quiet.
Rarity was watching Rainbow. She was watching so closely, and Rainbow felt like she was missing something.
“Oh, from your expedition?” Bon-Bon asked, smiling at her.
Twilight mumbled something.
Rarity coughed, and Bon-Bon and Twilight both straightened up slightly and looked at her.
“Twilight, could you say that again? I’m sorry. I couldn’t hear you.” Rarity smiled. Rainbow judged that smile, as she found herself doing far too much these days. Too hard to parse. She guessed, or perhaps she hoped. Genuine.
“I… Kind of,” she said. “I’ve compiled them and done some organization… arranged the photos I took and written captions for all of them, attached them to the notes they go with…”
“So some progress. Did that take some time? I do know how you love your lists,” Rarity asked, and then chuckled. “Goodness, but you were ever too thorough!”
Twilight looked like somepony had stomped on her face and spat on her.
“I… I mean, no, it only took me a week or three. I was distracted, so that was even longer than it should have taken.”
“Dear, what’s keeping you?” Rarity asked.
“I’m sure it’s hard having your other studies on the side as well,” Lyra said quickly. “As well as a managing the library after the college fire brought all of those students coming here for help.”
“Y-yeah,” Twilight said. She fidgeted.
No, that’s not her fidgeting. That’s what I do. Squirm in the seat, bored to tears. She’s like… she’s shaking.
Rarity made a sonorous little sound of disappointment. “Oh… that’s too bad. I know that must be frustrating, Twilight. I’m terribly sorry. If you’d like, one of us could always come by and add any details we can. Having another perspective on what you saw and didn’t see out in that strange outremer might be just the thing to jumpstart your scholarly spark!” Suddenly, Rarity winced and held her right foreleg. “Ah… Ah, I’m sorry. The scars on my leg… burn sometimes. My doctor isn’t sure why yet.”
“Are you alright?” Lyra asked, standing up.
“I’m fine, I’m fine. I promise you, Lyra,” Rarity said, gritting her teeth. Rainbow’s own magical scars ached in sympathy. “See? It passes. It passes,” she repeated, as if willing it away by simply telling it to go would work, and yet it seemed to.
Rainbow felt whatever Twilight felt, because both of them finally locked eyes and all the pent up desire to run in Rainbow was mirrored. Like a wounded animal, Twilight almost lurched out of her seat.
“I need to go,” she said forcefully. “I left the heating spell running downstairs on that cauldron and I think it’s been too long.” She groaned. Rainbow called bullshit. “Crap… I always forget. I got a B in Alchemy. I’ll see you girls later!”
She fled back towards the library.