Adventure has left Rarity scarred and immobile, but not broken.
Who is that coming up from the wilderness, leaning on her beloved?
Rarity is not whole. Her adventures have finally caught up to her, and after a daring rescue of her beloved Rainbow Dash, she finds herself at least temporarily crippled. Her doctors are baffled--raw magic poisoning of the magnitude she sustained is not exactly commonplace. But Rainbow is there for her, watching, worried, and hopeful. A Lady endures all things, after all, and Rarity is the epitome of a lady.
Sequel to Where the Sun is Silent, Catch For Us the Little Foxes, and Great Heart Will Not Be Denied. Knowledge of these is helpful, but not exactly required. The story is less about the continuity and more about Rarity and Dash.
Rainbow stood upon the great thunderhead like a lonely sentinel, overlooking the foothills of Ponyville. She was the only observer. Everypony else either scurried without seeing, or was too close to the storm to see. Only she could look out over it, could study it--or really, not study it but know it. There was a difference. Either way, she found herself watching things a lot these days. Saying less. Doing a bit less.
It was, of course, a scheduled storm, and so only a few ponies were outside of the safety of their homes below in the brightly painted town, rushing from place to place, covering their heads against the inevitable hanging rain. Around her, the wind howled like a lion at the foot of its cool cave into the heated plain. Aggression was a part of the nature of storms. Lightning was fury, thunder was the universe’s heralding, and the thunderhead was its chariot.
At least, that was what the book had said. Rainbow read books, when she could spare the time and a nap didn’t seem infinitely more appealing. To be fair, a good nap was perhaps one of the greatest things to have spun out of the Song, but even she knew overindulgence left a pegasus shaky in the air.
But nopony could sleep where she stood. Few could even stand it. The ancient pegasi magic that coursed in her veins as it had in untold generations of her kind sang, but feverishly. She could handle the electricity, the cold, the extremes of high flight, but even a pegasus had her limits. Even Rainbow Dash had her limits. Some were harder than others. Some were more nebulous.
They hadn’t been sure about letting her go back to handling weather teams upon her return. Not that her coworkers could really have done anything about it if Rainbow had been determined to work. She was the chief weather officer for the district, after all, long absence or not. To be fair, Rainbow hadn’t been all that sure either. Things were different now. Since Jannah.
Down below, ponies continued on, hoping to make it before the rain came down. Maybe they would. Maybe they wouldn’t. It wasn’t up to them. They didn’t know what was going to come—Rainbow couldn’t even tell for sure, and she was at the head of the gathering deluge.
She wasn’t dumb. It was all too emblematic, and she hated that. She also hated that her one place of safety, weather work, was being tainted by the anxiety of Rarity’s recovery. This was her place. This was where Rainbow could be Rainbow.
But she looked down at the boutique regardless. Waiting. Maybe, just maybe, she would catch a brief glimpse of that beautiful off-white coat in the window and know those blue eyes like sapphires would be looking up back at her. But maybe not. It was kind of hard for Rarity to get upstairs without help these days.
Lightning struck within the cloudmass, sending a shock up Rainbow’s spine. Besides a brief jerk, she allowed herself no sign of discomfort. A true captain rode the storm. Her father had told her this, and she would do as he had always dreamt of doing himself.
The thing about pain is that it is mental as much as it is physical. There is a dimension to suffering that was deeper than skin and bone and sinew. Knowing there was an end in sight gave Rainbow the strength to sit and wait and think. It was not knowing there to be an end or knowing there would never be an end that made suffering overwhelming.
Sitting in the doctor’s office years ago, she had waited for truth. Fly or don’t fly. Broken or whole or something in between and nebulous. Back then, in that chair, she had wanted feverishly to know something. She had foresworn any adventure with Twilight or anypony else and desperately clung to the hope that the unicorn beyond the frigid waiting room would have some sort of answer to make things make sense. And he had, but she had not left those dangers of misadventure behind. When Twilight had needed a companion and guard, Rainbow had jumped at the chance. Be like Daring Do; go out and see the great uncharted ruins and wastes of the West. And it had been fun, hadn’t it?
But then she’d been captured. Rarity had come. Rarity had paid dearly for her.
The first of the rain began to fall. Rainbow had not planned on it and could not stop it. She could only react to it, and instead she continued to watch the boutique in silence.
As contagion often did, Rarity’s sickness had masqueraded first as simple mortal weariness. Rainbow hadn’t thought anything of it. Of course Rarity was tired—she’d forced marched half the length of the world, crawled and climbed and fought her way through an ancient city of horrors, and interacted with beings of pure primal magic. It was enough to wear anypony out.
She still remembered what had happened. Rarity had come and at the last moment been captured. They would both be sacrificed together, the last piece in the puzzle of a crazed madman. The fountain at the center of Jannah, high above the city, had been so deceptively calm and inviting, but even Rainbow had felt the weight of its ancient, eons-old magic swirling about. It was all that was left of the Song that spun the world, after all.
In hindsight, she supposed Rarity had gone to see her maker. It had paid off.
Rarity had only been submerged for a moment before coming back up entirely different. Time moved differently in the Well of the Firmaments, she’d said. She had spoken at length with Eon, the alicorn who sadly watched the world turning, and had borrowed a bit of her strength to wipe the mad zebra D’Jalin and his mercenaries away in blinding light. To save Rainbow.
Rainbow Dash stared down at the whiskey sadly. Not even Wild Pegasus could make some things feel alright.
It was late. Very late. The storm outside raged on, but her team could handle it. The pounding, relentless rain and the lightning would have their time and then be ushered off into the waiting hooves of the next weather team the district over, and none of it technically needed her there to help. She’d only helped build the storm, and she built things to last. Or she tried.
But like many things, contagion did not care about how a pony felt or what a pony did. It was mindless. Magical contagion was no different. Rainbow looked past the glass with its amber contents and back towards her wings. She knew all too well about magical wounds and how they tended to linger.
It was a few days out from Jannah, on the ancient Imperial Road, that Rarity had begun to grow weak. She’d seemed tired, but Rainbow Dash had not seen the signs of the impending collapse. She’d been so blind, so caught up in the joy of reuniting with the mare she loved most, so enthusiastic in the way that only a caged thing set free can be—and so Rarity had crumpled in the middle of the old paved road without warning.
Rainbow had tried her best. Love, she’d read somewhere, always did its best. Four days and nights Rainbow Dash had pressed on, crossing vast distances with Rarity in tow, foraging and traveling as fast as she could manage, desperate to get back to the coast and civilization. Only when at last she had reached the red city of Valon had Rarity woken up, drenched in sweat, from her restless and long sleep.
Still restless, Dash thought and sipped at her whiskey. There was no mistaking it. Nopony in the Belle-Dash household slept well these days.
Rainbow wanted to go up there and comfort her, but as long as she was asleep… A pony in Rarity’s position needed sleep more than comfort. At least, that’s what the doctors had suggested. But it was hard. She thought about her love tossing and turning, and it grated.
Another sip. She stared at the calendar.
It was easy to draw parallels with her own condition. Magical wounds, scars physical, pains deep and unseen. Her foreleg burned and ached like Rainbow’s wings did still, sometimes. The magic never totally left. Had Rarity sat at this little table, sipping her wine in the late of night, thinking on how slow days can pass when you’re waiting? Back then, there was a huge red circle scrawled on the month to mark Rainbow’s own doctor visit, but Rarity had not gone to such lengths. Just a neat little annotation, no different from any other teatime appointment.
Back then, Rarity had helped her. Sure, Rainbow had needed to claw her own way out of the pits of despair, but at every ledge there had been Rarity letting down another rope, shining a light to show her the path up into the actual sunlight.
“Just gotta do the same,” Rainbow mumbled around another shot. Wild Pegasus bucked like Applejack, and that was why she liked it. “Just… gotta do the same,” she repeated. Rainbow Dash was wise enough by now to know it was harder than it sounded.
Rainbow looked at the apparatus skeptically. “So… they said this thing worked. Don’t… Like, do I strap you in?”
Rarity chuckled. The sound of it made Rainbow’s heart flutter a bit even after all this time. “I think so. Help me back up into it, and then I can… Oh.”
Rainbow winced. “I can tie the straps. It’s okay!”
“Oh, I know, dear,” Rarity replied, her voice soft.
Using only her left front leg, Rarity began to ease off the bed. Rainbow was there, hovering with furrowed brow. Waiting. She did a lot of waiting.
“I guess… Turn around?” Rainbow said. “I can bring it a little closer…”
“Please.”
Rainbow landed and pushed the wheel-walking apparatus closer to their bed. It was a strange device, a novelty. When Rainbow had broken her leg a few summers before, after a particularly daring stunt, she’d had to make do with the regular wheelchair. But walking on all fours again had been so strange and uncomfortable afterwards.
The back legs were suspended, pressed against a soft pad made for them, which in turn rested against the axle of two great wheels. A harness, in other words. Rainbow remembered the Diamond Dog incident and wished the mood were good enough to laugh, but it was hard to feel up to it.
Gently, together, they positioned her back legs against the pads. They fought her every step of the way. One would expect paralyzed limbs to be limp, but this was not exactly a natural condition. They’d locked in place, stiff and unyielding, but eventually pliable enough.
Rainbow strapped her to the harness carefully. “You feel alright?” she asked, a bit too quickly.
“I’m fine, Rainbow.”
“Sure? I could loosen ‘em up—” Rarity backed away from the bed and shook her mane. Rainbow cut off, captivated for a moment. “You look nice,” she offered.
Rarity snorted. “Rainbow, darling, love—lying does not suit you.”
“Hey! I’m as honest as an Apple,” Rainbow replied with a half-grin.
“Yes, and when Applejack does lie, it’s a doozy. I look atrocious,” Rarity insisted. “My mane is completely…” she sighed. “It is ruinous, Rainbow. My coat is a disaster. I’m practically pallid…”
“I could help,” Rainbow said quickly.
Rarity chuckled. “I suppose you could, couldn’t you? I’m hungry, and it’s about one, isn’t it?”
“I brought food up…”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t hungry. But I would like some tea. Maybe… hm, no, that’s a bit too much.”
“I could go get you something! Um… I mean, I’m sure Pinkie could give me some of those scone things you like…”
“That’s far too much trouble,” Rarity said. “I do miss afternoon tea at Sugarcube Corner, to be fair.” She looked towards the window. “I’ll be fine by myself for a moment, Rainbow. Tea alone will be sufficient, I assure you.”
“Alright,” Rainbow answered, but she hesitated. “You sure you don’t want anything? I mean, I could help you with it, whatever it is.”
“I’m fine. I’m fine. Please, don’t be so worried.” Rarity smiled at her, and it was a full smile, a real smile. “You’re adorable when you’re worried, you know that? Fretful, even. I’m a grown mare, Rainbow. I will be fine for a few moments, I promise.”
“Alright,” Rainbow repeated, a bit more sure. She left and hurried down the stairs.
She had no intention of passing on getting Rarity something to nibble on, however. The doctor had told her that appetite would come and go, and that she would need to make sure Rarity ate. If tea meant food for Rarity, then Rainbow would make sure it happened.
She was through the boutique in a moment and stood at the front door stretching her wings. Pinkie can be fast. Eighteen seconds there at careful speeds, three times that to be sure I don’t drop anything, a minute or three tops to get… whatever the hell it is. She makes me drink tea with her all the time, and I don’t even know the name of half of these weird frilly things.
And without another second of hesitation, she was off, flying over the roofs of Ponyville, above its happy, ambling population, and landed at the door of the bakery. Seventeen seconds. She tended not to underestimate distances these days. Even Rainbow Dash learned humility. Eventually.
She opened the door and peered inside. Inside, it was crowded. Ponies sat in all of the booths sipping at milkshakes or picking at cake slices, and a line had formed at the counter. The Cakes hurried back and forth, bringing bags with orders. Pinkie herself sat at the counter, happily chatting as she counted bits.
“Oh, and you know, I saw a pony with a lyre just like yours!” she was saying to the mare at the counter. Rainbow blinked, and the name came to her. Lyra. Right. Duh. Lyre, Lyra. Geeze. Ponies just aren’t that inventive sometimes, you know?
Rainbow took a deep breath and bypassed the long line, leaning against the counter. “Hey, Pinks.”
“Oh, hi, Dashie!” Pinkie said brightly. “Whatcha up to?”
“Hello, Ms. Dash,” Lyra said, smiling. “Haven’t seen you around much.”
“Been kinda busy,” Rainbow said, feeling a bit awkward. “I… I’m really sorry ‘bout this, but I kinda need somethin’ real quick. Can I get…” It only now occurred to Rainbow that she’d forgotten money at home.
“Hm?” Pinkie and Lyra looked at her, expectant.
“I… nevermind,” Rainbow grumbled. “Sorry…”
“You seem troubled,” Lyra said, stepping aside to let the next customer by. Pinkie greeted them, and Lyra frowned. “I know we’re mere acquaintances, but… are you alright?”
“Geeze. Does it show?”
“Yes,” Lyra said and then smiled softly. “Anything I can do? What did you need?”
“I… It’s dumb,” Rainbow grumbled again.
“I don’t think so, not from how you’re acting. Come, I’m a good listener.” Lyra gestured for her to scoot past the stallion buying pastries at the counter. “I won’t take your time,” she added as Rainbow joined her as she waited for her order.
“It’s just… Rarity…”
“Ah,” Lyra said, letting a long breath ease out. “I think I can guess. I haven’t had tea with her in quite some time. I miss it. How is she doing?”
“Can’t walk,” Rainbow said bluntly. “I don’t know,” she added. “Look, I just… She kind of got up finally and wanted tea, and she always loves those dumb scone things, and I figured—”
“Miss, your order?” Mr. Cake pushed a bag across the counter. “Paid Pinkie? Sorry, we’re a bit overwhelmed today! Lots of hungry ponies! Hello there, Rainbow Dash!”
“Heya, Mr. Cake,” Rainbow said half-heartedly.
Lyra beamed at Rainbow. “You know… Bon Bon and I also like those ‘dumb scone things’. Forgot your money, did you?”
“Yeah, she didn’t want me to go to any trouble, so I went downstairs and bailed quickly so she wouldn’t be able to tell me not to,” Rainbow said.
“Have this, please,” Lyra said. Her horn glowed bright gold, and out of the brown bag emerged a small cake box of the kind she’d had seen perhaps a thousand times. Pinkie made sure every one of them was a little work of art and sunshine. “Please,” Lyra insisted. “On me. Tell Rarity I said hello.”
“I… I mean, it’s not a big deal. I don’t need…” Rainbow looked at the cake, puzzled.
“It’s fine. I promise. I have a mare I love too,” Lyra said, levitating the cake box closer until Rainbow gripped it between two hooves. “She’ll love it. I promise. Now go! She’s no doubt awaiting you.”
“But… I mean, you paid for this. I can’t just take it.”
“A mare in love can see another mare in love! We live in a kind world, after all, Miss Dash.”
Rainbow hesitated but knew Lyra was right. “Thanks… and maybe I should have hung out with you a lot more,” she said. “Thank you.”
“Drop by for tea! Bring Rarity. It’s been far too long since we talked of music. And Rainbow?”
Rainbow already was retreating towards the door. She stopped. “Yeah?”
Lyra pursed her lips and then spoke. “You’re both good ponies. She’s a special mare, but you know that. Tell her that I said so later if you remember. If she… if she’s getting down, ask her about old Corner, alright? Mr. Corner. Now shoo! Good winds,” Lyra finished and then laughed.
Rainbow made it back to the boutique in record time and was brewing the tea in the kitchen by the time that Rarity began to call for her.
“Rainbow, are you burning my house down yet?”
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “No. I’ve done this before, miss priss.”
She heard a light hmph and smiled.
Bringing the tea and the box up on a platter was a bit hard with flying and stairs and all, but Rainbow managed it. It was certainly not the hardest bit of trick flying she’d ever accomplished.
At the top of the stairs, she found Rarity, her mane in even more of a mess than it had been, frowning absently at a fallen brush. When she looked up to greet Rainbow, her eyes widened.
“I… How did you?”
“Lyra says hello and that she misses you and hopes you get better and stuff,” Rainbow said simply and placed the tray on Rarity’s little table, the one by the window. “The cake is hers.”
“You shouldn’t have,” Rarity said, but she was smiling wide.
“Like hell. I know you like a bit to snack on when you take tea and stuff,” Rainbow said, and her voice lowered into a grumble. “Besides, cake sounds awesome.”
“Indeed it does, Rainbow.” Rarity walked over, and Rainbow was distracted by the sound of the turning wheels long enough that she never caught Rarity leaning in for a kiss until their lips were locked. Heat flooded her face.
“Geeze, it’s just a cake,” Rainbow mumbled after Rarity pulled away. Rarity nuzzled her and then sat by the table. Carefully, very carefully, she opened the window and let the sunlight in.
“It’s more than that,” she said, but wouldn’t say more. They sat by the window, looking out on the town, and took tea in quiet contentment.
The doctor hummed. Rainbow sat in the corner, thinking that humming thoughtfully was probably something they taught you to do in medical school. This particular practitioner, certainly, found himself doing it far too much. Everytime she’d sat in this hospital he would come into the room, look at some chart or another, and hum as if this were all quite new and fascinating, some mystery worth his attention. Rainbow found it annoying far beyond how annoying it actually should have been.
This had a lot less to do with the doctor and a lot more to do with the fact that she was trying desperately not to squirm in panic.
Rarity was doing much better, at least on the outside. She sat quietly, face neutral, not in the schooled way Rainbow had learned to detect, but in a fairly natural set. She simply waited. Rainbow had no idea how she did, how she simply sat there and… waited. As if this were nothing more than waiting for somepony to tell the time or the forecast. As if it were just some passing transaction on the street. How was she calm? How did she keep her legs from fidgeting, or her mouth from curling down, or her brow from furrowing?
But that was the difference between them. True, sometimes Rarity wore her emotion on her sleeve in as overdramatic a way as possible, just like Rainbow sometimes tried her hardest to hide how she felt. But when it counted, when it really counted, when there was fear involved…
Yeah, she can be hard. Sometimes.
“I have to apologize with how this whole thing has gone, Miss Rarity,” the doctor said abruptly. “I’ll admit that this is not exactly an average case.”
“Not at all. I quite understand,” Rarity said.
“Usually when I see raw magic poisoning, it’s incredibly mild. A foal who tried just a bit too hard, a student from the community college up in Falcon’s Ford doing too much magic with too little sleep to safely control himself.”
“I know the feeling.”
Rainbow thought about those endless, coffee-drowned nights of vast dress orders, falling asleep on the couch while Rarity worked on feverishly into the night. She smiled.
“Usually, I prescribe something to fight off the infection that always accompanies the poisoining eventually, tell them to lay off the magic until everything’s cleared up… but this is so much more than that.”
Rainbow fidgeted. Her stomach churned. She hated the way his voice sounded. She hated it.
“I’m a grown mare,” Rarity said quietly. “It is quite alright. You can tell me things plainly, doctor.”
Rarit moved in her seat. It was only a little, but Rainbow knew her well. She had studied that face so much over the last few years. She knew when the facade was about to crack, when Rarity was close to the edge. She was hanging off the side even now. The calm was gone in an instant.
“It is not hopeless. Not at all,” he said quickly. “I’m not just saying that, either. You are a unicorn, luckily, and so you have a good system for absorbing and venting thaumaturgical energy… but at the same time, this is raw magic we’re dealing with here. Whatever happened out there, you absorbed far too much, in far too chaotic a state. Immobile limbs can happen with this sort of thing, but three of them?” He shook his head. “But I do have good news, at least.”
Rarity’s eyes widened. Slightly. She was trying. Rainbow frowned. She was trying to control, to contain. It was strange for that effort to be so obvious. No, not just strange. Rainbow took a deep breath while the doctor collected his thoughts for a moment. It was then that she caught Rarity’s eyes, and they smiled at each other reflexively.
Rarity always seemed to know when Rainbow was hurting. Like the sunlight creeping through even the smallest gap in the blinds, Rarity saw through any defense a pony could put up around their problems. But I can’t do that. Like, its the whole “I don’t do feelings” joke, except I’m not sure it’s funny anymore.
“I’ve gotten some good feedback from the doctors in Canterlot. Part of the problem is that the way the magic’s being absorbed, and how it got so mangled… So much time has passed that it’s like trying to put together a crime scene ten years later.” He smiled. Rainbow didn’t know how he smiled. “Ever try to heat up food and it just wasn’t the same anymore?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, I know, I can see it. Terrible analogy, but bear with me. That’s what dealing with the magic poisoning is like. I can try and trace the flow of energy and see where it’s latching onto, but it’s just not the same. But the guys I’ve been talking to in Canterlot are working on something that may fix that.”
“I suppose we’ll be waiting on them, then,” Rarity said quietly.
“Yes, Miss Rarity. In the meantime, I do want to go ahead and put you on a battery of thaumaturgic-oriented medications. I think we can at least mitigate some of the inflammation… maybe get some of that sensation back.”
Rarity and Rainbow’s ears both perked up simultaneously. “Wait, does that mean she could move again?” Rainbow blurted out.
The doctor turned to her and gave a little lopsided grin. “Yes, technically.”
“Technically, doctor?” Rarity interjected.
“Movement, but not walking. It’s… even unicorn to unicorn it’s difficult to explain, but we can with luck get you movement. You’ll be able to move all four legs, but they’ll be far too weak to support any kind of serious weight. It’s not much, I know.”
“It’s more than you know,” Rarity said.
V. What Shall We Do For Our Sister On The Day She Is Spoken For?
“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!”
To be loved, Rainbow supposed, was an odd feeling. It was more than just a feeling. She knew that, but it was the feeling that bothered her. Loving somepony felt natural and right--everypony could like things, and emotionally love felt much the same. But to be loved was to be regarded, to be given worth apart from one’s ability to run or fly, to fight or flee. To be loved said less about the lover and more about the Beloved. It had always made her feel embarrassed, like wearing dresses had as a filly. She did nt wished to be seen unless it was in the right light.
Rarity nuzzled her under her chin gingerly, almost reverently. “You’re quiet tonight, love.”
She loved that voice. She always loved Rarity’s voice, but this was not just any normal voice. Like her smiles and the masks and facades, Rarity’s voice had many shades, and this was the gentlest one. This was the voice that only Rainbow got to hear.
“Just thinking,” she replied, smiling.
They were pressed close in the dark. Idly, Rainbow stroked Rarity’s mane. Another plus of bedtime: Rarity at last didn’t mind that her perfect coiffure would be anything but. It was truly a blessing.
“Sounds dangerous,” Rarity hummed, and then nibbled on Rainbow’s neck and then kissed gently in a line moving up her neck and up to her lips.
Rainbow shivered and kissed back. “Sometimes,” she said, breathless.
“You’ve been so pensive, lately.” Rarity inched up closer, kissing Rainbow’s brow. “So nervous, like one of Fluttershy’s little sparrows.”
“Lots to think about.” Rainbow closed her eyes, and Rarity kissed the lids gently before returning to her lips, more tasting, testing than kissing. “I guess,” she said, needlessly, soft as she could. She could feel the heat of her own breath mixing with Rarity’s own soft, quiet breathing. She opened her eyes, and at first she saw nothing but the night, which was deep. Even with the moonlight, she could see only shadows and vague shapes, the suggestion of Rarity but not the image.
“You don’t have to carry every burden,” Rarity insisted. She did not move. Their noses touched in the darkness, and Rainbow grinned and wished that Rarity could see it. She imagined that Rarity, too, smiled.
“Eh, you know me. I have to do my part,” Rainbow said. “Share the weight.”
“No, I think the mare who fits that description is Applejack,” Rarity responded in mock seriousness. Rainbow rolled her eyes, but another kiss interrupted any witty retort she would have made. OR perhaps, not so much as interrupted but wiped away entirely.
This was a different kiss from the others. It was deeper, longer, and as it went on and on they drew closer. Even when she felt that there was no way to be closer, still it seemed like they found ways. She caught air as she could, not wanting to break this spell for even a moment, caught up in the feel of Rarity’s lips and the smooth feel of her coat, the smell of her, the taste of her. This was normal. This was what she understood.
But it did stop, eventually. Rarity broke away, and by now Rainbow saw her smiling in the starlight. Her eyes had adjusted, and so as Rarity lay back on her side, Rainbow could see her body above the covers on full display.
And at once, Rainbow felt like her heart and head were on fire. She moved forward, almost hungry, until Rarity was beneath her, pressed to the bed, and she kissed her in earnest. Rarity’s approach was like quicksand, drawing her in with unbearable, unspeakable sweetness. Rainbow’s was like rain, soft and aggressive in turn, but always pushing forward, always falling, always there. For once, she was in control. She said to this curve, this valley, this promontory, you are mine as I am yours. Rarity’s body she knew as well as her own, perhaps better.
She nibbled down Rarity’s neck. The thrill of knowing that Rarity would groan--hearing her whine softly in pleasured happiness--was what she needed. All of the day’s tension began to melt away. This she understood. There was no second guessing, no worrying, and no more watching. There was only the action of her tongue and teeth on Rarity’s coat. Rarity groaned again, a bit louder, and pulled Rainbow closer to her, holding her with all four legs wrapped around.
They lay panting for a moment, dazed from the excitement of contact, somewhere between silence and action.
“Oh… Dash, why’d you stop, love?” Rarity whined lightly. “That was divine…”
“I kinda figured you wouldn’t want to. Guess I was more pent up than I thought,” Rainbow said. She nibbled on Rarity’s shoulder. Stars, but she loved doing that. She loved the reaction it got, the little shudder, the tiny gasps. Her face felt hot, flushed, and she could feel more than just that. “You’re sure you’re alright? Your legs?”
Rarity nodded. “I’m more than alright, Dash.”
That was all she needed to hear.
VII. Daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my Beloved, what shall you tell him?
It was late when Rainbow Dash landed on Twilight’s porch.
It was still a little weird, thinking of Twilight living anywhere but the library. But that was what came with marrying an Apple, she guessed. Gosh. How long has it been? Three years? Four? I can’t believe I don’t know right off the top of my head.
It felt like an eternity, however long it had been since the fateful wedding. Since the incident, and the maze in the darkness. She almost expected her wings to act up again at just the thought of it. She had come out of that nightmare scarred. She’d been lucky. Very lucky.
How would she begin? What would she say? “Have you ever wondered if you used up enough luck for both of you?” “Isn’t it crazy how we both end up almost crippled? It’s like fate.”
Mostly, she just wanted to see Twilight again. The last time they’d hung out was… She couldn’t really remember, which meant it had been far too long.
At any rate, Rainbow Dash found herself standing awkwardly before the door, wondering if barging in like old times wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Things were simpler when she could just fly recklessly through the window, crash into the bedroom wall, roll down the stairs, and say hello from the bottom of them. Certainly she worried about far less during those days.
She knocked.
It was Macintosh that answered the door after a moment. He towered over Rainbow, a silent behemoth. When he saw who it was coming to his door this late, he frowned.
“Evenin’,” he said.
“Hey,” Rainbow said. “Uh… Twilight home?”
Macintosh shook his head hesitantly. “Nope. Working on something at the library. Told me she’d be back tomorrow.” He looked her over, and Rainbow felt even more awkward. “What’d you need? I might could help ya.”
“No… I mean, I’m fine. Just… flying around,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you later.” Rainbow winced. Stars, that was lame.
But Macintosh didn’t seem to mind that much, however, for he nodded. “You have a good night, Rainbow,” he said, and then the door closed.
She stood there, staring for another moment, before shaking her head and taking to the sky. Once airborne, she glanced at the little device on her right foreleg. “Hey, wake up,” she said quietly, and it did. The runestone on the watch-like apparatus glowed bright blue and then it was a watch, displaying that it was finally midnight. She sighed.
Twilight would still be up, of course. If she was working, then she would be working all night. She could see it now--stacks of books and old archival scrolls, a few dozen spare quills and untold plentitude of coffee. She was familiar with habits of the late-night laborer. She had been sleeping in one’s bed for a few years now, after all.
But Rarity was sleeping. At least, she had been when Rainbow had left. With luck, she would still be that way. If not… Rainbow could always say she’d felt like a moonlit flight. From time to time, every pegasus needed to fly the insomnia away.
She landed at the doorstep of Twilight’s other home. The library in the nighttime was strange, a towering, twisting titan. Inside, the warm candlelight gave only vague clues to the interior, but Rainbow didn’t need to see. She knew it well.
Carefully, she opened the door, hoping Twilight wasn’t fried from her egghead-work and hadn’t put anything important in harm’s way. Rainbow Dash learned her lesson after Twilight put a stack of books two ponies high by the door and it had about crushed Pinkie. At least the midnight snacks she’d brought had made it. Bothering a pony writing her thesis on Thaumaturgy built a strong appetite.
Inside, she found the main room immaculate. No stacks, no papers or diagrams or left behind snacks. No Twilight, either. Just a few candles in their sconces.
Rainbow Dash frowned. “Twilight?” she called, trying not to be too loud. If Twilight was sleeping, she would just punt and try again. Most of her found that prospect appealing. Putting off unpleasantness was something Rainbow had gotten very good at. Didn’t want to waste time on non-urgent weather work? Take a nap and do it all right at the end of the day. No big deal. Twilight wasn’t around to have a heart to heart with? Just forget about it.
But she couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t just forget about it. When Twilight had locked eyes with her across the table at Sugarcube, they both knew that this night was coming. They needed to talk. There were things that a pony couldn’t just let alone. They had to be answered or questioned or something.
Twilight was her friend. Since the day she’d first walked into this town, irritable and a bit unfriendly, Rainbow had liked her. Against all odds, the absent egghead had been the companion who had kept them all together. They’d written a lot of letters to Celestia together, all of their friends, in this great collection of books and lore. Rainbow just wanted a chance to talk. Friends shouldn’t have to look like that at one another. Friendship wasn’t supposed to have anything like fear in it.
“Twilight?”
Her voice echoed lightly through the library, and she sighed again. Time to search the place.
She walked to the back and found the door down to the archives. If Twilight was going to be anywhere working, she would be down among the scrolls and dusty grimoires that had accumulated over the years, the collected interests of a dozen librarians before Twilight.
The steps down were lit by more candles, which gave Rainbow a bit of hope. Twilight had to have come this way, at least.
At the bottom of the stairs, there was a maze of shelves in the dark. Light from the other side of the large chamber lit them just enough to be seen. Rainbow Dash strained to see, but the shelves were in the way. But Twilight would be there, no doubt slumped over a desk. Carefully, she walked through the labyrinth, past monoliths of lore in the black, hearing her own hoofsteps reverberate in the cavernous basement. There would be no sneaking, no quiet entrance.
At last, she emerged on the other side to find Twilight sitting in a chair at a desk, as she had expected. A candle sat on next to a pile of papers. All along the wall, Rainbow saw pictures spread out, tacked in place in a web with commentary scrawled on spare pages.
“Working on the book,” Rainbow said quietly.
Twilight, who had been staring down at her hooves, continued to do so. “Yeah.”
Rainbow stepped forward and looked at a few of the snapshots. A ghost of a smile crept into her face bit by bit. “Hey, I remember a few of these places. This ruin… whatever it’s called. The one you almost fell off the edge of that wall.”
“Ravenna,” Twilight said flatly.
“Yeah, raven place.”
“Why are you here, Rainbow?”
Rainbow shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Twilight shifted, but Rainbow kept looking at the pictures. “Rainbow… look, you don’t have to pretend like we’re okay.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re not okay, I get it. I know we’re not. It’s all my fault.”
“Gonna have to be a little less vague over there, egghead.”
Twilight groaned. “Rainbow… I know Rarity hates me. I know you’re not happy either. This whole… this whole mess was because of me and my stupid dissertation and it’s all my fault and--”
Twilight stopped and sniffed. “Look, I’m just saying you don’t have to come pretend like we can just forget.”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
Twilight looked down at the ground.
But Rainbow did not let her escape. She stepped forward, lifting Twilight’s chin so that their eyes met again. “Twilight… we’re friends. It wasn’t your fault.”
“But I got you to come along. If you hadn’t been there…”
“Then maybe they would have taken you,” Rainbow said. “I don’t know. But you dying isn’t much better, Twi. Is that what you think we wish happened?”
“Not exactly.”
“Good, because I don’t regret going. It would have been so much worse for me to not go and something happen to you. You’re my friend, Twilight.”
Twilight wilted. “But… But Rarity…”
“Rarity isn’t mad, Twilight.”
“She should be.”
“Maybe.” Rainbow shrugged, and then sat beside Twilight’s chair. “Look… hey, look at me, alright? There, see? Do I look mad? I don’t, and I’m not. I’m worried. I’m sad, because yeah, this whole thing sucks.”
“It’s just… first with the wedding, and then with the expedition… maybe you two would be happier, would have had a better life, if I just never befriended you. I just keep hurting you and there’s nothing I can do.”
“Fluttershy has a lot more of the share for the blame with the wedding,” Rainbow said softly. “But have I ever blamed you for that wedding? No, because you didn’t call down crazy magic whatever-the-hell that was. You didn’t suck us into that other place. You were as much a victim as we were.”
“But it wasn’t supposed to be this way,” Twilight said, forcefully. “I wasn’t supposed to be a burden on you. That’s not what friends do, Rainbow.”
“Like hell it isn’t,” Rainbow replied. “Look, Twi, what are friends for if not to lean on? Yeah, Rarity was really pissed before she left. It’s true. I mean, yeah, I was kinda pissed when they were carrying me off. But that was then, and I was way more pissed off at them than you. You tried to help.”
Twilight groaned. “Even if you say she doesn’t blame me, I blame me. Maybe she should blame me.”
“Twilight…”
“What if she doesn’t walk again, Rainbow? What are we going to do? How am I ever going to talk to her again, even… even look at her again, knowing that because I wasn’t careful enough, I stole that from her. I stole walking and dancing and…”
Twilight slumped out of the chair and Rainbow caught her, hugging her tightly. “We don’t blame you. It’s not your fault. It’s their fault. You can’t control what happens, Twilight… sh, hey. Hey, it’s okay. I just don’t want you to run away like that.”
Twilight shivered. “I just want her to walk again. Maybe, maybe if she can walk again, it’ll be okay. I can look her in the eyes again, Rainbow.”
And Rainbow Dash awkwardly held Twilight and thought that she could say the same herself.
Rarity nuzzled under her chin, careful to keep her horn away from Rainbow. Outside the window, the train slowed as it pulled into the busy Canterlot station. Time to go.
“You ready?” Rainbow asked.
Rarity yawned. “Indeed I am. Can you believe that the Princess invited us? I can hardly wait to get there.”
“Yeah, might even be fun,” Rainbow said, and kissed her forehead before Rarity moved. She stood and stretched. “I hate trains,” she declared. “Too much sitting. Way rather just fly here.”
“You’d be exhausted,” Rarity said idly as she began to move to stand. Rainbow didn’t say anything as she stopped, made a small “Ah,” and then looked up at Rainbow. “Help me in?”
“Yeah.” The harness was retrieved. Rarity was strapped in. It had become a ritual of sorts for them. The act of attaching her lover into the apparatus no longer made Rainbow Dash tense up, or have thoughts of throwing the thing off the side of the mountain.
The funny thing about pain was that it could be born in any amount, Rarity had told her once, as long as there was an end in sight. Either the surgery would work, or it wouldn’t. Either way, there would be some sort of end.
And Rainbow didn’t immediately feel anything about that. Neither fear nor relief stabbed her heart. Mostly, she was hungry, and wanted a kiss and a bit of fresh air. Simple desires were nice that way, she thought.
Canterlot station was bustling. The city itself thrived with vibrant life and movement all around them, in a thousand colors and as many voices. Rarity walked like a filly through the flowers, home from school, without care. It was simply another day for her. At least, that was the air she gave off. The clatter of her wheels against the flagstone suggested otherwise, but Rainbow did not hate that sound anymore. It was just another sound. It could do nothing to her that it had not already done, and that she had not already survived.
“It’s been awhile,” Rarity said when they came to the main boulevard. “Far too long, in fact. I really need to be working on reestablishing my connections here. This is, of course, a capital of fashion.”
“I’ll take your word on it, Rares,” Rainbow replied with a grin. “So… that letter.”
“Hm?”
“The invitation.”
“Ah. You didn’t read it, did you?” Rarity asked. Rainbow glanced over at her. Even with the bulky wheeled harness, Rarity managed to walk like a princess, her head high, a confident air about her. She looked for all the world like a noblepony.
“No. Was gonna read it, but I forgot. You have it with you? I’m just kind of curious. Like… why would they want to see us? We’re not like Twilight.”
“Ah, but even princesses can have friends and acquaintances,” Rarity said, and chuckled. “Honestly, I’m not entirely sure myself. Princess Celestia wrote it, and it wasn’t very long. Just a simple invitation to dine with them and stay at the palace while we’re here for my consultation.”
Rainbow noted that she didn’t mention surgery. They didn’t say it, even when alone.
“Well, we are some of the only ponies in Equestria to have seen where the Princesses grew up. She might want to talk about what we saw,” Rainbow said.
“Perhaps.”
Celestia and Luna were gracious hosts. Dinner was served in a smaller, much more private room than either Rainbow or Rarity had expected. The food had quite fulfilled their hopes, however.
So as they reclined, taking their tea on the balcony of Celestia’s private quarters, Rarity and Rainbow felt comfortable enough to lie closer together, almost leaning against one another.
“We are so glad to see you again,” Luna said, smiling broadly at both of them. “It is always nice to see our friends from Ponyville once more.”
“You haven’t been back in some time, have you?”
Luna shook her head. “No, not since Nightmare Night two years ago. Alas, things have been rather busy.”
Celestia leaned in, setting the cup down on the table with her golden magic. She smiled at them all, each in turn, and the room was quiet. Not in a tense way, but in an expectant one. Rainbow felt like she was going to find out why they’d been invited, but before Celestia could speak, Luna gave her an inscrutable look. Celestia nodded, and then sighed. But the smile returned.
“I’m not sure if it is a good time,” she began. “I would have invited you for dinner and tea regardless, of course. I do so love getting to know all of the element bearers, and after your return, thought it would be a good time.”
“So you do have an ulterior motive,” Rarity said.
Celestia chuckled. “Now, that makes it sound almost sinister.”
“Not at all! I thought you might,” Rarity said. “It was the tea. I usually preface serious conversation with an offer of tea. It softens the blow.”
“Yeah, and then the stupid snacks keep you there long enough to get told how dumb you are,” Rainbow groused.
Luna laughed. “Oh, I know that feeling, Rainbow Dash. I know it well.”
Rainbow blinked. “Hey, you don’t see ‘we’ anymore!”
Luna nodded. “It was ever a convention of the public sort. I have never used it with my sister. Well, not outside of my feller moods,” she amended sheepishly.
“But you are quite right. Both of you actually,” Celestia said. “I wanted to ease you into conversation and give you another reason to stay. I have… well. Not a favor to ask. Not exactly.”
“We would probably be willing. Perfectly willing,” Rarity said quietly.
Celestia frowned. “Rarity,” she said, her voice not quite cold but different. Rainbow wasn’t sure what it sounded like, what it felt like. It seemed… old. Tired.
“Princess?” Rarity responded.
“I would ask if you harbor ill-will towards us for the conversation we had.”
Rarity went still. Completely still, save for her eyes, wide as dinner plates. Rainbow didn’t know anything about this. She scooted back to get a good look at Rarity.
“What the hay?” Rainbow said. “What is this?”
“It’s… it’s nothing, Rainbow,” Rarity said quickly. She looked pale. “Princess, please, forgive me. I… I meant no disrespect. I was distraught. Please, I beg your forgiveness.” She set the cup down on the table. In her still weak magic’s grip, it shook slightly.
Rainbow stood. “Princess, I don’t know what this is about, but… Whatever it is,” she paused, standing a bit in front of Rarity. “It’s in the past, isn’t it? Whatever it is, Rarity is sorry and--”
Celestia’s face stopped her mid-speech. She knew that look well. It was the look her teachers had given her when they thought she’d said something amazingly stupid.
“Rainbow, Rarity, please. It’s alright,” Celestia said. “You can sit down, Rainbow. Your love and your loyalty are admirable. I wish no ill on Rarity. I promise.” She smiled. “If I did, I would probably not have broken bread with either of you.”
“Yeah… that would be weird,” Rainbow relented, and sat. She felt almost like a balloon with a hole. She’d just… stood up to a princess. Look, I deserve at least one back rub for that, she thought.
“No, I simply wished to know if you still felt that way,” Celestia continued. “I have been thinking about that conversation quite a bit. When it was discovered you had run off into the night after Rainbow, I was very concerned.”
“I couldn’t wait,” Rarity said softly, almost like a child to her parent. “I couldn’t. She’s…”
“I’m glad you did not,” Celestia reassured her. “Perhaps it was I who was in the wrong. You saw why I worried, and yet you came out of it all alive and…” she paused. “I suppose well. Do your wounds trouble you? Twilight has been keeping me apprised.”
Rarity shrugged, and sank back into the couch. “No, they don’t. My legs are kind of stiff in the back, but I can move them. I can’t walk at all. If I try I just sort of collapse. My right foreleg is getting worse.” She showed the princesses the scarred leg, where one of the mad D’Jalin’s cultists had wounded her with hoofblades. “My scars burn sometimes.”
Celestia nodded. “I had thought as much. Raw magic is not exactly predictable, but it isn’t completely random either. There are patterns. Sometimes.” She cleared her throat. “It was I who suggested to your doctor that a consultation regarding the wounds on your foreleg might be in order.”
Rainbow and Rarity stared at her, confused.
“You know stuff about like, medicine?” Rainbow asked. “Is that something princesses know?”
Celestia and Luna laughed together, loudly and genuinely. “Rainbow Dash,” Luna said as she caught her breath. “Friend, we have learned quite a bit about that. When you live as long as we have, you learn about everything whether you intend to or not.”
“And healing was always one of my specialties,” Celestia added. “I would always visit the local apothecary when we were still travelers.”
“They were inevitably boring experiences,” Luna whined.
Celestia rolled her eyes. “Luna. Anyway, yes, Rarity, I am the one your doctor has been talking to. I have some ideas, but… that was actually not what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Rarity seemed taken aback. “Then.. what?”
“I… Hm.” Celestia looked away for a moment, as if collecting her thoughts. “It is a gift I’d give you, of sorts. One I think you may appreciate. One I have owed for a long time. A boon a few centuries overdo, in all honesty.”
Rarity stared. “You… No, you mean…”
Rainbow just blinked at her.
“Yes,” Celestia said. “I have decided that, with your permission, the House of Belle is to be reinstated. I promised Silver Belle when the House collapsed that I would some day restore his kin to their proper place, to repay them for their service to me in the Nightmare War.”
“Even I remember the Belle family,” Luna said.
“And after all that you have done and known and suffered, I think perhaps the mare to lead that house is come ‘round at last,” Celestia finished.
“But…” Rarity cringed. “Princess, with all due respect, I am unwhole. Look at me.” She wiggled her back legs. “I am a cripple,” she said. The word hurt Rainbow like a knife. “And that’s the truth of it, for all intents and purposes. Whether or not I can be cured or to what degree I can be cured is irrelevant. I am unwhole. Unfit,” she added, “to be a lady of any sort.”
But Celestia shook her head. “Rarity, I thought long and hard after you left, and the last time a mare of your age and size and experience spoke like that to me… was another Belle. Clarion Belle, a thousand years ago, told me to my face that no matter how much sorrow I felt over my sister, that my soldiers deserved better than for me to shuffle off to my chambers to sulk. She was furious,” Celestia said with a sad smile. “And I have ever admired her passion, the mighty flame that was her bright heart. Canterlot--and myself not least of all--could use your fire and your passion. And your compassion. Fancypants, whom I know you have met, is a good example of the kind of nobility this city needs, this country needs. As are you. It doesn’t matter whether you will walk with or without the apparatus over there.”
“It is not armor, weapons, or a fit body that make a warrior,” Luna offered. “Above all, the iron will and a great heart are what truly make the greatest of knights. This is my experience, at least.”
“You, of course, are free to decline,” Celestia said. “It is a gift. I will honor my promise someday, and have waited for the right time. If not today, another day will come. But I believe you were born for such a time as this, a new day for Equestria. I could care less how fit you are physically, because you are still the same pony I have always known.” She looked at Rainbow Dash and smiled. “Wouldn’t you agree with me?”
“Yes,” Rainbow said quickly. “Yeah,” she repeated, and Rarity met her eyes. “Always. I’ve been so worried all this time, that you were… were gonna be like I was, and what if you didn’t get better? What if I couldn’t do for you what you did for me.”
“Rainbow…”
“I kind of suck at helping. I’m not good at emotion stuff, remember?” She laughed. “I don’t really get the whole fancy schmancy noble thing either, but I know that you’re still the same prissy, generous pony I’ve always loved. Legs can’t change that. I mean, don’t get me wrong,” she added with a lopsided grin. “I really like ‘em. I’m always gonna say you have the hottest legs this side of Cloudsdale, Rares.”
“You are a brute,” Rarity said with a huff, but her face burned bright crimson.
Canterlot was the most beautiful city in the world, Rainbow Dash at last admitted. Cloudsdale gave it a run for its money, but… Rarity loved it here. She was happy. Everytime they arrived at that station she was always so full of life.
The sun sank slowly down below the horizon. She remembered how her dad would find a nice cloud and they would sit sometimes and watch the sun rise or set. He would always say that the sun was going to bed now, just like she had to. And she would whine, but never seriously, because her dad just reflected it back with good natured jabs.
Rainbow sighed as Rarity stroked her mane.
It was Rainbow who was sprawled out on the bed, now. Rarity sat, humming and playing with the brightly colored strands, enjoying herself. Rainbow felt warm, sleepy but not yet ready to surrender to sleep.
“I was thinking about what you said earlier, love,” Rarity spoke at last.
“Hm?” Rainbow yawned.
“Worrying about me. Have you been worrying like that, all this time? Watching, afraid I was just going to shut down?”
Rainbow squirmed. “I mean… when you say it like that…”
“I’m sorry. It just… I don’t know. I’m sad not that you expected it, but that I never realized how afraid you were. Or worried, or concerned, or however you would say it.”
“What do you mean?” Rainbow asked, rolling over to look up at Rarity, who kissed her gently.
“You’ve been so stoic and brave and sure about things, honestly. I know you talked to Twilight, by the way.”
“Ah.”
“She didn’t tell me. I was awake before you got back inside and pretended I was asleep when you slipped back into bed. You’re cute when you think you’re getting away with things.”
“Whatever. Cute is not a word that can be used to describe me,” Rainbow insisted. “That is a terrible word. Don’t use that word.”
“Of course not, dear,” Rarity said. “But you have been a help for me, Rainbow. But I needed something a little different, I think.”
Rainbow cocked her head to one side. “What do you mean?”
“You needed somepony to tell you it would be okay. I needed somepony to treat me like I wasn’t a useless cripple, Rainbow. Somepony who still thought I was a lady, in some way or another.”
“Always,” Rainbow said firmly, and was rewarded with another kiss.
Rarity looked back out at the window. “It’s strange to think we may finally have an answer soon. To all of our questions.”
“Will we live here?”
“I haven’t said yes yet.”
“You should. You want to.”
“But do you want to be the Lady-Consort of House Belle?” Rarity asked her, raising an eyebrow. “It just does not seem your style.”
“Eh, even I’m gonna get old and boring eventually.”
“Never,” Rarity said. “At this rate you’ll smash headfirst into a tree long before either of those things.”
“Hey! I’m getting better about trees.”
Rarity chuckled. “You’re wonderful, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Modest, as well. But you are. And… I want to spend my life with you. So it’s as much your choice as mine.”
Rainbow blinked. “Wait a minute, are you…?”
Rarity nodded. “It’s as good a time as any.”
Rainbow flushed. “You’ve got to be kidding me, this is how you ask me to marry you? This isn’t nearly dramatic enough.”
“I’ve had far too much excitement and drama, Rainbow. Is that a yes?”
“Definitely.”
“Even… you know. Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? Either or, Rares.”
“Either. Or.”
“They told me that the wounds on my foreleg are the source of the problem. Celestia says that if… if it’s removed, the poisoning will go away. But my legs have suffered a lot. I simply…”
“Would probably be just as great. Maybe need a little help getting out of bed in the morning, but that just means we get to have these nice slower mornings together we’ve been having. I mean… it’s not just that.”
“I know what you mean, dear. I know what you mean.”
Two ponies trotted down the streets of Canterlot. It was a momentous occasion. It was not often that a noble house rose from the ashes of history to sit at the table with the Houses Major, and even rarer that someone as famous as an element bearer, a personal friend of the Princess according to the gossip, should be its new High Lady. And to top it all off, a wedding of the sort few had seen in years. All in all, it was a wonderful time to live in Canterlot.
But of course, the strangest thing about rumor, about pomp and circumstance, was that it captured things which did not always exist. Or that did exist, but faded. Or that had existed and remained but altered. And so it was that two ponies went relatively unnoticed on the streets of Canterlot, and neither of them minded much.
Negotiating living quarters, dividing time between home and Canterlot--these things would take some time. But time was something that Rainbow and Rarity had in abundance. There was world enough and time.
The clank of the prosthetic on the cobblestone drew attention, but never for very long. The unicorn whose leg was gone did not seem to be impoverished in any way. She smiled. She walked with surprising grace, and with ease parted the sea of traffic with only charm and composure. No stallion with an eye for mares remembered the iron leg, for all of its adornment and fine craftsponyship. They all remembered her face, and the music of her laughter.
Rainbow remembered it too. She knew it far better than they, and she loved it.
