When the effects of an injury prove more severe than first thought, Rarity and Rainbow Dash find themselves struggling to keep their newfound relationship and lives afloat.
When Rarity and Rainbow Dash took their first steps down the road of romance, they had hoped telling their friends would be their greatest trial. However, when the complications of an injury leave one of them disfigured and the other racked with guilt, they find themselves leaning on each other to simply maintain balance in their lives.
The twangy caterwaul was followed by a thump and a chorus of rustling, and before Rainbow Dash could tell up from down, she was being bombarded by apples. By the time she was able to lift her head, the attacks had ceased, and she was left with a sore head and mane filled with twigs and leaves. Groaning and wiping the apple guts off her face, Rainbow glared up at where she knew her assailant—in her mind, she was picturing a hat and freckles—would be.
Sure enough, Applejack stood nearby, chuckling heartily. “Seriously, Dash? Under a tree? Thought that maybe I’d be safe from ya for a few weeks, but nope. Ya just come back and sleep under ‘em. Sheesh, what is it with this place? Some kinda pegasus-nappin-magnet hidden under the ground or somethin? ”
Rainbow Dash groaned, rubbing her eyes with her hooves. Applejack. Just what she needed right now. While fate was at it, maybe it could just strike her down with lightning or pull her wings out of their sockets. That’d be easier to take.
A shadow fell over Rainbow. Applejack had moved closer, and was now peering down at her with a look Dash had seen all too many times before. Concern. Slamming her chin on her forelegs, Rainbow let out a huff. Maybe that would get the “I don’t want anything to do with you right now” message across.
“Long night?”
Guess not. Rainbow mumbled a few curses into her forelegs before lifting her head up just enough that her words wouldn’t be muffled. “You have no idea.”
Applejack nodded. Rainbow hated it when she nodded without saying a single word. For a pony like Applejack, a silent nod could mean anything. It could mean she was angry, or happy, or scheming, or just thinking about what drink she’d have with lunch. It was impossible for Dash to be sure.
“How’s she been?”
Rainbow groaned. Great. More of this empathy crap. When everything had gone down, Rainbow had hoped that Applejack would be above trying to play psychologist with her, but it appeared that even Sweet Apple Acres wasn’t a safe zone from upturned brows and pats on the back. “Better,” she mumbled, her own voice barely recognizable.
“You with her last night?” Applejack took a seat beside Rainbow Dash. Rainbow stole a glance, and was surprised to find that Applejack was not giving her the old “concerned gaze” routine, and was instead looking off into the orchard. An apple rested on one of her forehooves. She dusted it off and took a bite. Rainbow took a deep breath. Finally, a conversation that might just be normal for once—at least Applejack hadn’t pulled out a pair of glasses, couch, and fake moustache like a certain bouncy baker.
“Of course, just like every night.” Rainbow shrugged. A part of her wanted to just say, ‘I don’t want to to talk about it,’ but at the same time, at least Applejack wasn’t hiding the subject behind a wave of pseudo-psychology crap or cupcakes. The least she could do was reward Applejack for being upfront about it. “Went straight there after helping the team with setting up the small thunderstorm they wanted out near the windmill. You know how hard it is to order around a weather team from the ground? Not easy.” She crossed her forelegs and snorted. “Anyway, after that catastrophe was settled, I headed over to Rares’ place and spent the night.”
Applejack smirked and pushed back her hat, shooting Dash a knowing glance. “And how much of that time did ya spend sleeping?”
“‘Bout a half-hour, so too much.” Rainbow couldn’t have fought off her smile if she’d tried.
“Heh heh.” Applejack only managed a couple of chuckles before a sigh rumbled up from her throat. She fiddled with a nearby branch with her foreleg as she started to speak again. “So, what are ya doing here? Rarity kick you out of the house last night or something?”
“No.” Rainbow grunted and sat up. “Had to get up early to make sure Brolly cleared the clouds right on that road between here and Fluttershy’s place. He did, believe it or not.” She stretched her forelegs toward the sun, a loud yawn escaping her lips and echoing through the orchard. “Dead tired, though. Surprised I didn’t just pass out in the middle of the road.”
Applejack smiled and shook her head. “Woulda prefered that.”
“Oh, so you want to see me get run over by a cart?”
“Not sure you’d like my answer to that,” Applejack chuckled—or rather, tried to chuckle.
“What’s eating ya, AJ?” Rainbow said.
Applejack let out a deep breath. “I was just wonderin’... she have any pains last night?”
Rainbow chewed on the inside of her cheek. Why did everything have to keep drifting there? “Not that I know of,” she said. The air was as heavy as a sack of bricks. She tried to chuckle as she added, “And she would let me know.” It came out as a quaver.
Applejack coughed and messed with the brim of her hat, twisting it and pushing it back. “Just wonderin’. Have an uncle up in Tall Tale who’s...” She coughed again. Rainbow couldn’t see her face, but judging from Applejack’s reaction, it wasn’t exactly cheerful. “Anyway, storms ‘cause him really bad pains, and I was wondering if maybe—”
“Nah.” Dash waved a hoof. “She was fine last night.” It wasn’t a lie—not in the slightest.
“Good.” Applejack took off her hat and shook the leaves and twigs off of it. As she placed it back on her head. “How much ya been sleeping, anyway?”
“Enough,” Rainbow said, glancing up into the canopy. She tried to count the number of leaves, but got bored at twelve, and went back to fiddling with her own hooves
“Uh huh.” Applejack frowned. Dash had to admit she was good at it. “Look, Rainbow, if ya ever need one of us—”
“I’ve got this handled, AJ,” Rainbow muttered.
“Rainbow, ya look like crap,” Applejack said, voice barely a whisper. “You’re tryin’ to balance too much. We can help ya out. Twilight’s back in town; I’m sure she’d be more than willing to spend some time with Rarity. That way you coul—”
“She does,” Rainbow answered, rubbing her temples with her hooves. “She’s been coming by every week. Or at least that’s what Rares tells me. I dunno, I’m never there."
“Still, you cou—”
“Just knock it off, Applejack.” Rainbow jumped to her hooves. “Sheesh, it’s not like Rare’s some friggin’ vegetable. She can take care of herself.”
“Then why in the hay are ya acting like she can’t?”
Rainbow swore she could feel flames licking her ears. She took a step forward and slammed a hoof on the ground. “Put yourself in my shoes for a second, AJ! I...” Her stomach suddenly felt like a lead weight, and her face went completely numb. She moved her mouth, but only silence drew forth. Rainbow didn’t know how long it took her to find the words. “Forget it.”
What happened next appeared to Dash in slow motion. Applejack took a step forward. Her foreleg began to lift off the ground like an airship—slowly but surely. Soon, it was perpendicular to Rainbow’s back. Rainbow tried to scurry away only to find her legs committing mutiny. And before she could shout, Applejack’s foreleg was draped over her shoulder.
Why? was all Rainbow could think.
“Rainbow Dash,” Applejack started. “I know this is hard for ya, sugarcube...”
Rainbow cradled her head in her hooves. Why?! AJ, you’re better than this! She looked skyward and groaned. "It's harder for her. I'm... I'm fine."
“I know, Dash, but... if ya ever need somepony to talk to, I’m more than willin’ to liste—”
Her words were cut off by a thump and a squeak. Applejack and Rainbow turned to their right just in time to see Fluttershy come bounding through the trees.
“There you are!” she cried out—or at least, the closest Fluttershy could come to crying out. It was more of a squeak, really. She skidded to a stop in front of them, catching a root and nearly faceplanting. Once her forelegs had stopped flailing about and had been placed firmly on the ground, and her breathing was under control, she looked up at Rainbow. Her eyes were wider than usual. They had a sheen of fright Rainbow was all too familiar with. She gulped as Fluttershy’s squeaks began to form words.
“Rainbow, I... came as fast as I could. Something... I was just at the boutique—I wanted to see if Rarity would like to go to the spa with me, even though I know she’s not feeling well, but I felt that it could make her feel better, b-but then again knowing her she probably doesn’t want to be seen in public... and I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so intrusive, but—” Fluttershy was cut off by a hoof covering her mouth.
“Breathe, girl. Take it easy,” Rainbow said. “What’s up?”
Without blinking, Fluttershy nodded. Rainbow had no idea why that worked, but it always had. As soon as she lowered her hoof, Fluttershy began to speak again—this time remembering to breathe.
“I went by the boutique, and I heard something. It sounded like crashing. And I think I heard Rarity crying—I’d recognize it anywhere.”
Rainbow bit her lip. She had hoped that today would turn out to be a normal day, but... well, nowadays, it was a ‘normal’ day; just not the ‘normal’ day that Rainbow Dash liked.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Calm, Dash. Cool. Another deep breath, and she was marching forward, making her way past Applejack and Fluttershy. It wasn’t until she was out of the orchard and off Sweet Apple Acres that she allowed herself to breathe. To worry. Her legs felt like lead and her head throbbed.
Just another day.
* * *
Rainbow Dash hated walking. She hated it more when she had no say in the matter. The damn doctor had gotten her hopes up when he had told her that the surgery on her wing had been successful. Then he just had to reel her back in right as her hopes started to get airborne.
Two months. Two months without flying. Might as well be a lifetime.
No, Dash, a voice in the back of her head seethed. Don’t you dare feel sorry for yourself. ‘Least you’re still in one piece. At that, Rainbow shut her thoughts up and zoned out until the dirt under her hooves gave way to hard earth. Ponies bustled through Ponyville, many of them smiling at Rainbow Dash or giving a jovial “hello.” Rainbow Dash didn’t respond; she didn’t have time to greet everypony who thought they knew her. She didn’t even recognize most of them.
One familiar face did catch her eye, however. The gray pegasus zig-zagged high above, unceasing smile stretching from ear to ear. A quick glance at the sun told Rainbow Dash that it was, at the least, two o’clock by now. No way she hasn’t been over that way by now.
“Hey, Derpy!” Rainbow called out. She swore she heard the rattling of gears as Derpy’s head whipped in her direction. For a moment, Derpy looked around the sky, smile briefly replaced by a frown. “Down here!” Rainbow called again. Derpy’s eyes bobbled to-and-fro before one focused on Rainbow and lit up. She landed with a stumble and a silly grin.
“Heya, Dash, what’s up?” she asked.
“Not me,” Rainbow replied with a forced smile. Derpy loved inside jokes, and for the last month, this had been her go-to one. She laughed as hard this time as she had the last couple dozen times. Eventually, the laughter died down. Rainbow’s teeth were gritted to the point of cracking.
“Can’t get used to lookin’ for you on the ground, Rainbow. How long you still stuck there?”
“Only a month to go.”
“Great!” Derpy grinned, and Rainbow had to smile back. Though she could only take Derpy in small doses, that smile was infectious. “I’ve missed having lunch with you. Only one on the team who eats with me is Blossomforth. She’s good company, but...”
“You can still have lunch with me, Derpy. I’m still workin’ with the team, even if I’m not... well, ‘working’.” She rubbed the back of her head. Words had never been her thing.
“I know, but the last time I asked, you were having lunch with Rarity, and I don’t wanna get in the way or anything.”
“Well... just ask me beforehoof next time, okay? I’m sure I can find a good day.”
“Okay!” Derpy beamed.
“You’re doing the weather in the southeastern part of town, right?” Dash asked. “I think that’s what I scheduled for you.”
“Yep, sure is.”
Rainbow scratched the back of her head. “Fluttershy just told me she heard noises over at Rare’s place, and I was wondering if you’d heard anything.”
Derpy frowned. “Yeah, I was working over at the apartments when I heard, like, loud noises and stuff. Heard the door slam too.”
“You know it was Rare’s place?”
“Yeah,” Derpy continued. “I saw the windows shaking, and ponies were all lookin’ at it too, and I even heard crying. Saw Fluttershy running off, too. Didn’t think much. Just thought it was Rarity having another one of those...”
“Moments,” Rainbow finished with a sigh. She trusted Fluttershy, but at the same time Fluttershy had a habit for hearing things that weren’t there. A second pair of eyes, no matter how wobbly, made it undeniable. “Thanks, Derpy.” She made a beeline for a nearby bridge.
“Anytime, Dash!”
The closer Rainbow Dash got to the boutique, the sicker she felt. Rarity had been just fine last night. She’d been just fine this morning before she’d left, too. Maybe a bit drowsy, but who wasn’t at four in the morning? She knew Rarity’s mood could shift, but... there had always been signs. Sporadic huffs and pouts leading to an inevitable explosion. This was different. This wasn’t one of her typical breakdowns.
An outside force was at work here. Dash could feel it in her gut.
The boutique—Rainbow’s second home—lingered in the distance like the exit to a cave in a dream. It was where she had to go, but... if she stayed here, Rarity would be fine, right? It had been a month! Surely Rarity could pull herself through these episodes by herself by now.
Rainbow felt her blood heat up. I swear, if she’s sobbing over spilling the cream for her tea again, I’m gonna... She shook the thought away. The fact that she could think such things made her want to punch herself in the face.
Trapped deep within her thoughts, Rainbow almost walked straight into the side of the boutique. Luckily (though she’d say otherwise), her land speed was far slower than herair speed, and she was able to stop herself before she became closely acquainted with the shop windows.
Her ears perked. No sound. Strange. Usually Rarity sobbed for hours on end when she cracked—and when she didn’t wail, the shattering of china and vases and wine glasses formed an incessant soundtrack. However, today it was quiet. Dead quiet.
Without even knocking, Rainbow walked up the steps and opened the door. “Rare?” she called out. “You alright?” The main room of the boutique was a mess. mannequins lay on their sides—or on one another—covered in scraps of fabric and broken strands of gems. Shards of glass surrounded one of the many sewing machines, a half-finished gown still laying underneath the pressure foot. Upon further inspection, Rainbow found a golden line of thread zigzagging up the mint green silk. The needle was still jutting through the the fabric. Rainbow couldn’t believe it. She’d known Rarity to be destructive in her fits, but never to the point of ruining her own designs.
“Rarity?” Rainbow called out again, and again there was no answer. She walked over to the kitchen door and looked around. Clean. Not even the tea kettle was out. Rainbow’s brow furrowed. Even in her darkest hours, Rarity would get the kettle out for her afternoon tea—even if it did lead to her throwing it against a wall.
“Rare?” No response. Rainbow groaned. Perfect. She went back into the main room and went from dressing room to dressing room, slowly pushing forward the first few doors and kicking open the last few. No Rarity, though. Just a bunch of dust and smudged mirrors. When was the last time they’d been used? Had Rarity even had any clients since the incident?
Of course not, you knucklehead. Even in her own mind, she couldn’t avoid being berated.
Rainbow trudged out of the last dressing room, and leaned on the cutting table. Where was that mare? She couldn’t just disappear into thin air... or could she? Rainbow’s hoof clopped against her head so loudly that she almost didn’t hear the sound. She stopped and looked up the stairs, ears jutting up like antennae.
There it was again! Heavy shuffling. Like hooves sliding along floorboards. Of course. Upstairs... Rainbow Dash gave herself a single hard knock on the skull before standing up and making her way up the steps. As she neared the top, the noises became clearer. Mostly creaking floorboards mixed with the occasional sniffle. Rainbow’s stomach did loops. Yep, definitely Rarity. Definitely upset. Great...
Rainbow made the familiar trek down the hall to Rarity’s bedroom. As expected, the noises were coming from behind the sequin-covered door. She paused with her hoof on the door and just listened. She didn’t know why, she just... did. Now that she was closer, Rainbow could hear muffled sobs underneath the other noises.
“Rares...” There was no answer, but the sniffles ceased. Rainbow took that to be an invitation, and opened the door.
Rarity sat in the middle of the bedroom, wrapped in a dark blanket. Rainbow rolled her eyes. Here we go, she mumbled inwardly, hoping that the thought wasn’t reflected on her face. Not that it mattered, since Rarity’s eyes were set on the ground. Rainbow crept forward, and soon found herself right next to her marefriend. She took a seat. Rarity didn’t even glance in her direction. Rainbow sighed and unfurled her good wing and draped it over Rarity’s back. The unicorn shuddered once, but quickly leaned into it.
“You okay?” Rainbow said after a long period of silence.
“Hmm?” Rarity murmured, voice muffled by Rainbow’s shoulder.
“Fluttershy said she heard you making a racket. Derpy too.” Taking a moment to glance around the room, Rainbow noticed that even Rarity’s bedroom hadn’t been safe. Books and paper lay scattered about the floor, and the bedsheets were in shambles. Though... I may have been behind that,Rainbow thought, a smirk gracing her lips for the briefest of moments. It disappeared with a sigh. “Looks like they weren’t lying.”
“No, they were not.” Rarity smiled, but her voice and eyes betrayed her.
“What happened?”
Rarity whimpered, pulling the sheet-hood back from her face just a bit and looking directly into Rainbow’s eyes. “I’m really not in the mood to say.” She was going for the puppy-dog-eyes routine. Though Rainbow had to admit it toggled some switches, it still wasn’t enough.
“Too bad,” she said. “What happened? Last time we talked these things out, you felt better. Let’s try it again.”
Lowering her head, Rarity let out a sigh. “I suppose it can’t hurt—not any more.” She pulled the sheet off her head completely, some strands of mane seeming to want to go with it. A light of her horn, and a brush and mirror levitated her way. In seconds, her mane was back into its pristine, curled shape. She cleared her throat, and began again.
“Spike came over today.”
Rainbow cringed. Oh, please tell me this isn’t going where I think it’s going. She forced a smile. “Really now? That’s... uh, this is the first time he’s come over since he moved back, right?”
“Yes it is,” Rarity said. “Still a sweet one, that Spike. He even brought an absolutely marvelous collection of gems he had collected in...” She frowned. “What is the name of that area?”
“Got me.” Rainbow shrugged.
“Very well. Either way, they were just stunning. I’d never seen gems like them before, and I’ve seen them all.” She sighed and wriggled, burying herself further into Rainbow’s still outstretched wing. “All was well until I got my leg tangled up in some of that rope I used for the school house’s Hearth’s Warming play last year. Before you ask, it was for belts for robes that just happened to be made of this lovely white silk—perfect for jabots. Yes, jabots are back in this year. Silken shirts too. It’s rather puzzling, frankly. I swear that Fashion Weekly... I’m getting off topic now, aren’t I?”
“Just a tad,” Rainbow chuckled.
“Moving back to... well, what you consider pressing matters—silk trends are far bigger than you think, Rainbow—it locked up and I fell. Not a bad fall, mind you, but it was enough. I could barely even pick myself up. Fortunately Spike was around, and my has he gotten tall. You’ve seen him, haven’t you, Rainbow?”
“Only once, but yeah... not such a little dragon anymore, huh?”
“Not even remotely.” Rarity giggled and wiped her eyes. “So, Spike comes over and helps me up. I thanked him, and expected that to be that. But this thing is a harsh mistress, and I just... it wasn’t so much it hurt. More ‘uncomfortable.” I was probably whimpering more than I should have, and this limping... oh quit your yawning, Rainbow Dash! Am I not entertaining you?”
“Just tired, Rares.” Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Sheesh, not everything is a shot at you.”
Rarity let out a small gasp and glared. Intimidation was not an easy thing to do to Rainbow Dash, but messing with a pissed off Rarity was on the short list of things Rainbow Dash never, ever even wished to do.
Rarity’s eyes drifted to the floor, and she sighed. “Spike noticed my discomfort, of course,” she continued. “He kept asking me if I needed help; I kept saying ‘no.” Eventually, he must have gotten tired, because in a second I was scooped up and carried up here. Probably just thought laying down would do me some good, the sweetheart.”
Rainbow couldn’t hide her frown anymore. Crap. This is going where I think it’s going. “So he came up here?” she asked. Rarity nodded. “Let me guess: that didn’t go very well.”
“Not in any sense of the word,” Rarity sighed. “The sheets were still a mess, you forgot your goggles this morning on the dresser, and our picture was still right there on the night table—even a blind pony could have seen it in a dark room!”
“How bad did he freak?”
“Most of those ‘crashes’ were him running out.” Rarity gave a halfhearted giggle. “Poor thing doesn’t know his size. Those papers, the mannequins: all his work. The crying was me, however. I... well—”
“I understand, Rare. If I were in your shoes, I’d... well, I’d probably get really angry. You handled it better than I ever could.”
Rarity sniffled and nodded. “He hates me now.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Yes he does. I heard him yell that he does. Six times.” Tears were making their way down Rarity’s already damp cheeks. Rainbow wiped a few away with her wing before wrapping her forelegs around Rarity’s neck and giving her a light kiss on the nose. Never had she thought she’d ever do such cheesy, uncool things, but around Rarity... she just couldn’t help herself.
“It’ll be okay,” Rainbow whispered, gently rubbing circles Rarity’s back.
“How many times have I heard you say that and it not be true?”
“How many times have I said it and it is?” Rainbow’s hoof moved down Rarity’s back, to her waist, and curved around to her right thigh. Rarity shivered, but her forelegs only wrapped around Dash tighter.
“Trust me, Rare...” Rainbow’s hoof continued to trace Rarity’s thigh, stopping when the feel of fur suddenly ended. “...everything’s gonna be fine.”
It took every ounce of Rarity’s effort to keep from sobbing at the sight. So many lovely fabrics—none of them cheap—scattered about the floor like the doodles of a grade-school colt. Only a few of them were tattered, and those that were could be salvaged with a well-placed cut or two, but that didn’t make such atrocities against fashion any easier on the soul.
With each dusty piece of Prench silk she levitated into its proper container, she glanced at Rainbow Dash out the corner of her eye. As expected, Rainbow was cleaning up with equal parts quickness and disinterest. Each straightened mannequin was met with a sigh, and each strand of thread swept into a dustpan with her good wing came with a loud groan. Rarity found herself unable to resist smiling at each and every over-the-top display of indignation. Leave it to Rainbow Dash to withstand such savage tortures as ‘cleaning the house’ for the sake of love.
Love. The word still felt weird whenever it ran off Rarity’s tongue, but she was getting used to it. She had to get used to it, because the feelings sure weren’t going to fade anytime soon. If anything, she felt that ‘love’ was too weak of a word nowadays.
After all, Rarity thought as she began to untangle a clump of yarn with her magic, not just any pony would want to spend time with—let alone, go out with—a disfigured freak like...
The yarn fell to the floor. Rarity fell faster.
No, don’t do this! she hissed at herself. Her plea went ignored, and the shivers doubled. Her throat closed, her eyes burned, and she hated it all.
Feeling sorry for herself wasn’t going to change a thing. She knew that. The one thing she had sworn to herself as soon as she’d gotten out of the hospital was that she was going to make it through all this with her chin held high—with as much grace and elegance as always. She reminded herself of that exact promise daily.
And daily, the promise to herself would shatter. Like a bone. Like a dream.
Every muscle in her body shook. She tried to stand up—to save face and blame it on a spasm or a trip. Her legs had different plans; she couldn’t even get her hooves firmly placed on the carpet. It felt like some kind of imp had bored its way into her brain and seized the controls. She caught sight of her right flank, and her throat closed up. It would have made sense. There was no doubt in Rarity’s mind that she was cursed.
A shadow fell over her. She didn’t have to look to know who it was. A pair of forelegs gently fell around her neck, and a familiar warmness pressed against her cheek. Rainbow Dash whispered something, but she couldn’t tell what. It didn’t matter. Just the sound of her voice was enough to quell the tremors.
Eventually, Rarity was able to calm herself enough to breathe. Her face was damp, from brow to chin. Whether from crying or sweating, she couldn’t be sure. Probably both. The idea of the latter appalled her, but the former wasn’t much better.
“I’m... dreadfully sorry, Rainbow,” she managed. “I’ve been a hoofful for you today. I don’t know what’s come over me.”
“Don’t apologize so much. It’s annoying.”
Rarity had to smile at that. You don’t know how much I agree with you, Rainbow. She brushed a few stray locks of hair away from her eye, and pressed her forehooves into the carpet. “Would you mind letting go?” She gave Rainbow her best smile. Hopefully it was convincing enough. Rainbow responded by loosening her forelegs. As Dash stepped back, an actual smile crossed Rarity’s lips. Rarity, my dear, you should be in the movies. A deep breath, and she rose to her hooves, being sure to strike her most regal pose once she was standing straight. I’m ready for my close-up. She giggled and primped her hair, shooting Rainbow Dash a half-lidded gaze and flirtatious smile. Rainbow just rolled her eyes, but Rarity could see that, on the inside, she was smiling back.
“Well,” Rarity proclaimed, “I would say we’ve done quite a fine job of sprucing up the place. What do you say I brew us some tea for a reward?”
Rainbow stuck her tongue out and slumped, like a foal being threatened with brussel sprouts. “Eugh... no thanks. I’d rather chug cough syrup.”
Rarity rolled her eyes. “Tsk-tsk. One of these days, I am going to introduce you to the wonders of a fine cup of Earl Grey on a Sunday morning...” Her words drifted off. She could smell it, steeping in her cup, the waking light casting her in a warm glow as the songbirds’ delightful symphony drifted through the open kitchen window. And the feel of silk pajamas. Oh... how she loved her silk pajamas.
A wave of giggles yanked her from her reverie. She opened her eyes to find that, at some point, she had sat down and wrapped her forelegs around herself—in a very compromising position too. Clearing her throat and hoping in vain that the blush on her face was somehow invisible to Rainbow Dash, Rarity unwrapped her forelegs and stood up, trying to use her usual poise to save face. In another situation, that would work. Not with Rainbow Dash, though. The giggles just transformed into bellylaughs.
“Hmph.” Rarity stuck her nose up and shook her head. Some ponies simply did not understand the magic of silk. “Laugh all you want, Rainbow, but one of these days you will give tea a try, and you will berate yourself for ever even thinking about gagging over it.”
“When Applejack becomes the ‘Queen of Dragons,’ maybe.” Defying all odds, Rainbow Dash actually managed to laugh harder. For a second, Rarity worried for the safety of her windows and wine glasses. Calm yourself, Rainbow, dear. Crystal champagne flutes do not come cheap, you know. Luckily for Rarity’s china, Rainbow’s lungs got the better of her, and she fell back onto her haunches, clutching her chest and wheezing, grin as wide as ever. “S-sorry, Rares. It’s just... heehee, you shoulda seen yourself...” Rainbow giggled a few more times before letting loose a drawn-out sigh. “Thanks, I needed that laugh.”
“You’re welcome?” Rarity cocked an eyebrow. Was there something in her teeth? Eyes wide, she whipped her head around to the nearest mirror. Nope, nothing in her teeth. And her hair was fine. No running make-up either, because...
Her pupils shrunk. You forgot to put on make-up this morning, you dolt! If she could just curl up and fade away at that moment, it probably would have been for the best—at least, for her.
“Rare! Yo, ground control to Rare! Anypony home?” Rainbow called out, tapping a hoof on the carpet hard enough that Rarity swore she’d knock a hole right through the floor. Needless to say, it got Rarity’s attention.
“Sorry, Rainbow Dash. Just... things.” She gave a toothy grin, which Rainbow countered with another roll of her eyes. Giving Rarity one more blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smirk (Rarity, of course, didn’t blink), she made her way toward the kitchen.
“Hey, you still got some of those little carrot cake square thingies in the fridge?”
“I think so.” Now that Rainbow mentioned it, Rarity supposed a tiny bite of cake to go with her tea couldn’t hurt. Licking her lips, the smell of a nice cup of Jasmine tea drifting through her mind, she started toward the kitchen...
Only to stumble and nearly faceplant right on her favorite sewing machine. With her luck, she considered it a miracle that she didn’t separate both her shoulders when she caught herself. Gasping for breath, Rarity lowered her forelegs from the table one-by-one. It wasn’t until she was sure that the floor was not about about to collapse under her weight that her heart stopped feeling like it was about to explode.
“You okay, Rare?” Rainbow peered around the doorframe, half of a carrot cake square still in her mouth.
Rarity sighed. “Yes, I’m fine.” Once Rainbow disappeared back into the kitchen, she looked over her right shoulder, at her cutie mark, and then a bit lower. Her chest felt hollow; her throat, dry. Her words couldn’t have been further from the truth.
* * *
To a passing pony, Rainbow Dash would have looked like she was sleeping: her forelegs crossed atop the counter, face buried into her coat, wing fluttering on occasions—maybe even a quick breath or two to go along with the gentle ones. In a way, she was 'sleeping.' There was nothing she wanted more than to get a little shuteye.
However, Rainbow neither slept, nor rested. Her mind was moving at thousands of miles per hour, all thoughts related to the pony she could hear making her way around the kitchen.
Rarity passed before her, three familiar hoofsteps and one she couldn't ignore tapping across the linoleum. Just the sound told Rainbow Dash that Rarity had her 'upper-class' gait going—or the best she could do at the moment. As Rarity passed back by her, the smell of tea suddenly thick in the air, the foreign hoof rang out louder. It rattled Dash's brain and twisted her stomach.
She hadn't slept soundly in over a month.
Like you deserve an ounce of sleep.
Rainbow shuddered. A voice in the back of her head was the exact opposite of what she needed, much less an insulting one. It had been going off-and-on ever since she had been told the news, when everything had broken. Back then, the voice had called her "slow" and "a failure." Now, they simply weighed her down with guilt.
And it was working. Celestia, how it was working.
A chair bounced across the floor, moving closer by the second. Rainbow bit her lip. I’m asleep. I’m asleep. The chair was right across from her. It was followed by the clink of china, a short, yet dignified, squeak, and creaking wood. A few more creaks and huffs, then silence. Rainbow held her breath.
“Rainbow?” Rarity’s voice was like icy water over Rainbow’s already frigid ears. “Dear, are you awake?”
Rainbow’s good wing fidgeted on instinct. Traitor.
Another squeak sounded—like a gasp, only with a little more timbre. Rainbow hated it when Rarity squeaked. It hurt her, poked her right in the gut. Letting out a throaty groan, Rainbow lifted her head, nearly slamming it back down when the blinding light hit her eyes. Why’d Rarity have to make every room so damn bright? Eyes squinted and head throbbing, Rainbow Dash cursed everything that caught her gaze: screw you, trash bin! Up yours, sink!
“What’s the matter, darling?” Rarity asked. If Rainbow hadn’t already been flinching from the ungodly glare of the sun on white, reflective everything, the last word would have probably warped her face into a permanent cringe. Rarity had played the ‘darling’ card. She only used that word when she was genuinely concerned—or, in some cases, amorous—but judging from her gleaming eyes, it was clear that the bed was the furthest thing from her mind at the moment.
Grunting and stretching out her forelegs, Rainbow pondered ways to get out of this mess. Rarity, look, the oven’s on fire! No, that wouldn’t work. Oh man, Rares. I completely forgot, I left Tank at the spa. Nope. The spa had a clearly stated ‘No pets. No exceptions’ policy. How about a game of chess? Wait... she’d broken the chess set after she couldn’t figure out how to line up the pieces, so that was out of the question.
There was nothing to do but face the music. “I’m just... really tired,” Rainbow mumbled. It was but a half-truth, but that was enough. Rainbow couldn’t lie to Rarity, but beating around the bush was about as difficult as flying a simple loop.
Rarity frowned, leaning forward on the table. “Is it me?” Straight to the point. Rainbow sighed. You read me far too well, Rares.
“No... not really. Not completely,” Rainbow Dash said, reaching out for the safety blanket that was carrot cake squares. Unfortunately, the plate was just a bunch of crumbs. Perfect. She massaged her temples with her hooves a few times before continuing. “Weather work’s been beating me up, recently. Can’t do things myself, so I’ve got to make sure the others do it right, and... do you know how long it took Airheart to move a thunderhead from Sweet Apple Acres over to the library?”
Rarity took a sip of her tea. “Can’t say I do.”
“Three hours! Three. Hours! I coulda had that done in three minutes!”
“Well, you don’t have to supervise her the whole time, right?”
Rainbow ran a hoof through her mane. “She barely knew how to avoid the lightning. Now you see why I only usually put her on cirrus duty.” She started to run her hoof through her mane again, but an aura of blue surrounded it, stopping it in its tracks.
“You’re getting leaves on the table,” Rarity stated, then recoiled. “Are those apple seeds? How in the world did you get apple seeds in your hair?”
“Applejack is the worst alarm clock,” muttered Dash. She watched as Rarity’s magic surrounded both the trash bin and broom at the same time, and levitated them over. Without taking a pause from sipping her tea, Rarity swept the leaves and Celestia knows what else into the bin. It always surprised Rainbow, how skilled Rarity was at telekinetic spells. She could probably give Twi a run for her money.
Once the broom was back in its usual resting place against the refrigerator, Rarity lowered her cup and spoke again. “Have you thought about taking a leave from the weather patrol?”
Rainbow rolled her eyes. You don’t know much, do ya? “Trust me, Rares, if I could, I would. But those fools wouldn’t know up from down if I weren’t standing there yelling at ‘em to fly higher. I need to keep things going, even if it’s only through swearing and directions even a newborn should know.”
Another sigh. “Very well, if you insist. Still, I hate seeing you so worn-out.” Rarity frowned as she refilled her cup. “Maybe we should tone down the, ah... nightly activities. You certainly need as much rest as you can get.”
“Are you kidding? It’s the only thing keeping me from passing out every hour!” This did nothing to flip Rarity’s frown. Rainbow buried her face in her hooves and sighed. Being upfront was the only solution now. “I’m worried about you, okay? That’s what’s keeping me up.”
No words came out of Rarity’s mouth, but from the look on her face, Rainbow could tell that they were flying. She stared into her teacup, chewing on her lip, occasionally glancing at the window or at the wall behind Rainbow. The silence dragged on, and Rainbow watched as the steam billowing from the cup faded from view. It was too much. The quiet was wrapping itself around Rainbow’s chest and squeezing. She had to say something. Anything.
“How’s it?” she blurted, immediately wishing the words back. The one thing she knew neither of them wanted to talk about, and she went straight to it.
Rarity sighed. Rainbow heard her rhythmically tapping on it, a foreign din filling the room—and coursing through Rainbow’s veins. Even at moments like these, Rarity somehow managed to maintain a sense of composure. She could only imagine what was going on in her mind. It tore Rainbow up; she didn’t want to know how bad it was for Rarity. “Still strange, to be honest. Still wrong.”
Rainbow frowned. What Rarity had said was exactly what she had predicted the answer to be. It still hurt her to the core though. “Got any feeling yet?”
Another sigh. Each one was like a sledgehammer to Rainbow’s skull. “No, I’m afraid not, save for spurts of pain. Far too frequent, if I might add,” Rarity said, voice wobbling around the edges. “I’m surprised I’m even able to move around on it.”
“Body works in mysterious ways.” Rainbow had to chuckle at that. Anything to lighten the mood. “Cripes, I sound like Twilight.” A small giggle graced her ears, and she sighed inwardly, smile growing just a bit on her lips. She hated seeing Rarity upset; the fact that she was able to giggle at such a terrible joke lifted her spirits tenfold.
“So, you still going to PT?” Rainbow asked, drumming on the table.
“Mhmm. I have an appointment this Saturday, actually.”
“Canterlot?”
“Yes. Star Swirl Memorial. As always.”
Rainbow scoffed. “Jeez, might as well just name the hospital after you with all the time you’ve spent over there.” She slammed her hooves against the table and gritted her teeth. Idiot! “Rare... I’m so sorry. Shoot, that was... horrible. Man, I’m sorry.”
Rarity silenced her by placing a hoof over hers. “It’s perfectly alright, Rainbow. You were only trying to make light. Really, I thank you for that. The only thing that would make me upset would be if you didn’t make jokes like that. I’d miss them.”
You’re too good for me, Rares. Rainbow nodded and leaned back in her chair, forelegs falling to her sides. The world spun around her. She needed some sleep. Sputtering, she rubbed her eyes. Her hooves felt like lead weights. With a grunt, she leaned forward on the table once more, chin nearly touching the cake crumbs. “You want me to come along?”
Rarity levitated the tea kettle over to her, and refilled her cup. “Don’t you have weather work?” she asked as she grasped a teaspoon in her magic and began to stir.
“Maybe,” Rainbow responded with a shrug. “But didn’t you just say that I should take a break?”
A deep exhale escaped Rarity as she placed her teacup back on the table. She stared at it for a few moments, brow furrowed, as if she had been asked what the meaning of life was. “Well, I did, but... you seemed so adamant about not taking time off of work, that I supposed—”
“Eh, I doubt the town would get destroyed if I took a day off. Saturday’s supposed to be a clear day, anyways.”
A smile crossed Rarity’s lips, and Rainbow could almost feel its warmth. “Well, I’d be lying if I said this news didn’t please me,” she said. “I could use some of that good old ‘Rainbow Dash’ support, if I do say so myself.”
Rarity just shook her head, giggling, smile not leaving her lips. The very sight of such an honest smile—such joy—sent a heatwave through Rainbow’s chest. Both up to her face, and down towards her...
She cleared her throat. “So, it’s settled then. I’ll go with you on Saturday.” She tapped her chin. “While I’m at it, I could probably get the doctor to look at my wing. Maybe it’s hea...” The words drifted off. Using the word “healed” just seemed wrong in front of Rarity. “Who knows? Could be in flying shape.”
“I must admit, I’ve been dying to see you in the sky again,” Rarity said. Though she smiled, there was something in her eyes. Rainbow was terrible at reading emotions, but she could certainly tell that whatever hung in Rarity’s eyes was not a positive one. Rainbow’s heart sank: she’d upset Rarity. Again.
When Dash scooted back, her chair nearly clattered to the floor. “Um, bathroom,” she managed to squeak out as she rushed out of the kitchen, and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
* * *
There was no way of telling exactly when Rainbow Dash had fled for the washroom, but Rarity was certain how long she had been in there. Too long. She rapped on the door, knocks straddling the line between dainty and brutish. The only response she received was a shuffling of hooves and flutter of feathers.
“Rainbow?” Another muffled sound halfway between a grunt and a whine, followed by a splashing of water—not enough to be the bathtub, but still a decent amount. Rarity groaned. She’d better not be getting any dirty water on the tiles. I just mopped them a day ago. “Rainbow Dash?” she asked again. “Are you all right in there?”
“Yeah,” Rarity was able to make out amongst the mutters. She sighed, tapping her hoof. It would simply have to do. There was no way she was just going to barge in on Rainbow. She may be her marefriend, but that did not give her permission to quit using proper manners. She would just have to sit back and wait. Impatiently.
What has gotten into her? Rarity wondered as she strolled back into the kitchen. She grabbed the tea kettle in her magic and levitated it before her, opening the lid to peer inside. Enough for half a cup. To make some more, or to not make some more: that was the question. An answer escaped her. While she had to admit a few more cups sounded absolutely heavenly, a glance out the window told her it was getting a bit late for tea.
Oh, who am I kidding? she giggled to herself. There is no such thing as “too late for tea.”Though, I must say... a nice glass of wine would go well with dinner. She sighed as she poured what tea was left into her cup, then placed the empty kettle in the sink. I don’t want to impair my taste buds. That chardonnay is too fine a vintage to mix with leftover tea. The very thought of the taste made her blood run cold. With a shiver, she sat down and sipped her tea once more
It was as Rarity was downing the last few drops that a door opened. She glanced to her side, not lowering the cup from her lips, expecting to see Rainbow Dash wearily exiting the washroom. However, the door remained closed. Brow furrowed, Rarity left the comforts of her chair. The kitchen floor felt just as cold as the rest of her. She wasn’t one to believe in ghosts, but she wasn’t one to not believe in them either. Had the boutique been built on some old graveyard? She did seem to recall ponies mentioning that the property had been a difficult sell. Maybe that was why.
Rarity was so lost in her thoughts that she almost missed the small white blur moving at the edge of her vision. Cautiously, she turned her head, and...
“Sweetie Belle?”
Sure enough, her little sister was making her way up the stairs. She flinched at her voice, but didn’t turn around. Rarity rushed forward, losing her balance and having to grab onto the bottom stair post for support.
“Sweetie Belle!” she called out again. “I didn’t expect you to be here... are you staying the evening?”
“A week,” Sweetie Belle mumbled, not slowing or turning around.
“A we—what?!” Rarity bounced a few inches off the ground. She considered chasing after Sweetie, but thought better of it. Down the stairs? Well, if all else failed, she could simply slide her way down them. Up the stairs? No, that would probably only lead to trouble.
Sweetie Belle stopped at the top of the stairs. “Mom and dad are going to some ceremony—something about a ‘hoofball hall of fame.’ They’ll be gone a week.”
“And why wasn’t I informed?”
The pause was heavy enough to snap mountains. “I didn’t tell you,” Sweetie Belle finally said, voice no more than a whisper.
“You didn’t tell me? Why on earth wouldn’t you... Sweetie Belle!” Her voice either went unheard or ignored, because the only response Rarity received was the closing of a bedroom door. She waited. One minute. Two minutes. But still the door remained shut; the boutique, silent. With a heavy sigh, Rarity made her way back into the kitchen and slumped down in her chair, slouching like some prude. She didn’t even have it in her to think at the moment, let alone straighten her posture.
Time seemed to stand still. It wasn’t until another opening door graced Rarity’s ears that she was even able to blink. She glanced toward the washroom again, and this time found Rainbow Dash standing there, head cocked to the side.
“I heard ya talking to someone,” she said. “What’s up?”
“Sweetie Belle’s staying over,” said Rarity, voice seeming to belong to another pony entirely.
“Woah, really?” Rainbow glanced at the stairs, then back at Rarity, inching forward. “You didn’t say anything about that.”
“Neither did she, apparently.” Rarity huffed and straightened herself. To her horror, she realized that her mouth had been hanging agape. She closed it quickly, praying that she hadn’t drooled on herself. A glance at her chest vanquished her fears. Looking back up, Rarity found that Rainbow Dash had taken a seat on the other side of the table, leaning forward with her forelegs crossed in front of her.
“She didn’t tell you?” Rainbow brushed her mane back with a hoof. “How long’s she staying?”
“According to her, a week.”
Rainbow’s eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. “Sheesh! That long and she didn’t even tell you?!”
Rarity shook her head. “It appears to be that way. She’s lucky I keep her room clean and ready year-round, or she’d be dealing with all manner of boxes and scraps.” She sighed, lifting her teacup to her lips only to find it empty. I need a drink, she groaned inwardly. “I just don’t know what’s gotten into her lately. It’s like she wants nothing to do with me! Am I that much of a freak?”
Suddenly, she felt a hoof cover one of hers. “You’re not a freak, Rares,” Rainbow said. “She’s probably just got a lot on her mind. Have you even tried talking to her since you got out of the hospital?”
“No. She’s been avoiding me like the plague.”
Rainbow frowned. “And what about when you were in the hospital?”
“She ‘didn’t want to see me.’” Rarity shrugged.
“Well, maybe you should have made her see you, then.” Before the words had stopped echoing, Rainbow stood up, pushing her chair in and making her way for the door. Rarity scurried after her.
“Dash, where are you going?”
“I have to make sure Dewdrop lines the rain clouds up right for the showers downtown tonight,” Rainbow said, slowing to a halt. “Didn’t I tell you?”
“No, you did not.”
“Huh. Must've slipped my mind.” Rainbow leaned forward and gave Rarity a quick kiss on the lips. “I’ll be back before dinner. Make something good for once, okay?”
Rarity rolled her eyes, but shot Rainbow a small smile nonetheless. “I assure you, it will be better than whatever frozen pizza and leftovers you’ve been stuffing your face with lately.”
“Hey! Grilled daisy sandwiches are even better the day after you make ‘em. Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.” With one last smile—and a peck on Rarity’s nose—Rainbow walked out the door, strolling toward downtown. Rarity leaned against the doorframe, smirking as she took in the sway of her marefriend’s hips, the rippling of the muscles in her finely-toned legs.
You’re a lucky mare, Rarity, she thought to herself as she slowly closed the door, Rainbow vanishing amidst a rush of ponies. She caught her reflection in the hallway mirror. She froze, glancing down at her right flank. Perhaps not the luckiest... She let the thought drift away. Incomplete.
Getting up the stairs proved to be just as difficult a task as Rarity had feared. She had to lean on the bannister at several points, forelegs wrapped around the rail as if it were a lifeline, praying that her body didn’t betray her once more and send her tumbling down the steps. What used to take her a couple of seconds took her a couple of minutes. As soon as her hooves met the comforts of solid floor once again, she fell back on her haunches and wiped her brow.
Look at me. Sweating like a marathoner. Her breath shook, her legs trembling as if she stood at the edge of some great cliff. Sighing, she glanced over her shoulder, down at the foot of the stairs, less than a dozen feet below her. Climbing the stairs: just another thing to add to the list of things she had taken for granted in a past life. For a moment, she stared at the floor, cheeks weightless and chest tight. Then, with what must have been her hundredth sigh of the day, she pulled herself and started down the hallway.
No more than five steps into her trek, she took a detour, ducking into upstairs washroom. A sheen of blue fell across the room like candlelight as Rarity twisted the sink knobs with her magic. Rarity leaned over the basin, splashing water on her face with her hooves. She sputtered and coughed the first few rinses, but otherwise only found relief. It was cool; cool was good. Blue light reflected off the immaculate basin once more as she turned the water off.
For a few moments, Rarity stayed there, elbows resting on the corners of the sink, forehooves covering her eyes. It was nice to feel a dampness that wasn’t tears or sweat for once. She took a few gentle breaths. Twilight had been such a dear, taking the time out of her undoubtedly busy day to teach her some breathing exercises. “Meditative,” Twilight had called them. “A real lifesaver in any stressful situations.” Rarity had to admit that they helped. They didn’t heal—they didn’t numb completely—but they did enough. At least now it could be tens of hours between episodes instead of one or two.
You really need to get it together. She had lost track of how many times she had said that.
Rarity groaned, standing up straight. It took all her effort not to shriek at what she saw in the mirror. Her mane was disheveled and the spotless white that usually lined the bottom of her eyes had been replaced by dark bags. She swore she saw a gray hair in there somewhere—she just knew it!
Opening the medicine cabinet, Rarity was relieved to find a brush. She delicately ran it through her mane—slow and steady is the way to go—and thought. Mainly, her thoughts centered around the present: Could this arc possibly make the curl tighter? Maybe I should try a new conditioner—the current one obviously isn’t getting the job done. Do I have any mask to cover up these horrendous bags? There were a few moments, however, when they drifted to topics she’d rather not think about. Brush still moving through her hair in dainty sweeps, her eyes began to drift the right. However, unlike normal, she was able to stop them before they’d ventured too far.
Not now... not now...
For a few moments, even her mind was silent. She placed the hairbrush back in the cabinet and walked out of the bathroom, marching down the hallway once more. She had not come upstairs just to brush her hair. No, she had gone up there for far more pressing matters.
“Sweetie Belle?” she said, leaning against her sister’s bedroom door. She didn’t expect an answer, and her expectations were met. Not even a cough or ruffling bed sheets came in response. “May I come in?”
Nothing. Just silence.
Rarity sighed. “I’m coming in,” she said, pushing the door. She expected it to open with no effort, revealing her sister to her in the most dramatic fashion possible. Maybe even a music swell or two playing in her head. It would, of course, be followed by a most inspirational heart-to-heart—a speech for the ages. A smile crossed Rarity’s face as she pushed forward harder, prepared to meet her moment. Instead, she was met with a faceful of wood.
Squeaking and jerking her head back, she counted to three, then pushed on the door again. It wouldn’t budge. She frowned and unlocked the door with her magic, pushing on it again, this time prepared to give Sweetie Belle a good scolding about locked doors. Once again, the door refused to move even an inch. Rarity glared down at the knob, just in time to see a green aura fade.
So that’s how it’s going to be... Face contorting into the expression of a warrior prepared for battle, Rarity focused on the doorknob and demanded that it open. The aura that shone around the knob was as blue as the sea—and just as strong. Rarity pushed, even going so far as to put her shoulder into it, but the door remained firmly closed, a now-clear green glow surrounding it. Rarity didn’t know whether to be impressed at her sister’s magical abilities, or hate them for being so strong. Probably a mix of both.
Sweat poured down Rarity’s forehead in a most unladylike fashion. Her head felt like it had been drenched in kerosene and set ablaze. Sighing, she relinquished her grip on the door and stepped back, rubbing her aching head with a hoof. “Sweetie Belle...” she choked out. “Please just...” Her words drifted off, and in that brief space of silence Rarity swore she heard muffled sniffles.
“Sweetie, are you okay?”
For once she received a response—or the closest thing she was going to get. The mattress in Sweetie Belle’s bedroom squeaked, the familiar sound of sheets being wrapped tight gracing Rarity’s ears. It only made Rarity’s blood run colder, but... it was clear that Sweetie Belle didn’t want to speak to her right now. Sure, Rainbow Dash had told her that she should make Sweetie talk with her, but...
Patience is a virtue, Rarity mumbled inwardly. This is strike one. She kicked the rug and clenched her eyes. Don’t you dare. Her eyes opened, and she leaned against the door, pressing her ear to the wood. “Dinner’s in an hour, Sweetie Belle,” she said, trying in vain to keep her voice unwavering. “Please come down.” Her request was met with a noise. She couldn’t quite tell what it was—a sigh? A groan? Words? Just a breath?—but she could tell it was her sister’s voice, and that in itself brought the ghost of a smile to Rarity’s lips.
Rarity stood there for a while, hoping beyond hope that the door would open. However, silence had once again taken over her sister’s bedroom, and the door remained latched and locked. Letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, Rarity stepped back from the door and made her way back down the hallway. It was going to be a long evening.
* * *
You’re supposed to move the cloud to its proper place withoutbreaking it into a bajillion pieces! How hard is that to understand?! How Rainbow Dash managed to keep her fuming on a strictly internal level surprised even herself. What amazed her more was the sheer length ponies’ stupidity could stretch. Simple directions for a simple job. Now more than ever, Rainbow Dash realized why she was the face of Ponyville’s weather team. Just imagining how disorganized and downright bad the patrol must have been before she’d taken over gave her a headache.
If this whole ‘controlling from the ground’ thing doesn’t kill me... it’ll be a miracle. Each step felt like another weight being dropped on her back. By the time she’d crossed the bridge, and the Carousel Boutique was in plain view, it felt like her knees were bowing, a single gram away from snapping. Her hooves dragged across the road, sending up a cloud of dust in her wake. It was probably blowing right into some poor soul’s face, but Rainbow found it difficult to care. She just needed to cool off, to lay down. In the back of her mind, she kept her wings crossed that Rarity was ‘in the mood’ tonight. Celestia knows I need it, she mumbled inwardly as she pushed the door to the boutique open.
Her nose was immediately hit with a pleasing aroma. Her mouth watered, and she had to forcefully lock her wing down to keep it from flapping. That was one of the few disadvantages of being a pegasus: wings seemed to have a mind of their own a lot of the time. She cursed her good wing for its insolence then let it free. One could only ignore a smell as pleasant as the one drifting from the kitchen for so long.
Rainbow waited in the front hallway, expecting Rarity to call out to her. Surely she had heard her come in. Rarity might have been all about cleanliness and neatness, but the hinges to the boutique’s front-door had, according to what Rainbow had been told, not been oiled since Rarity had moved in. Needless to say, they squeaked like a cavalcade of clowns when anybody entered. Same went for the other doors in the building. There was no such thing as ‘sneaky’ when it came to the Carousel Boutique: only ‘obvious’ and ‘slightly-less obvious.’ Knowing that she probably fell into the former, Rainbow tiphoofed forward, a feeling in her gut telling her that something was very, very off at the moment.
“Rarity?” she called out as she crept along, hoofsteps silenced by the carpeting. Please don’t be freakin’ out, please don’t be freakin’ out, ple—
“Rainbow! I didn’t hear you come in.” A giggle flowed underneath Rarity’s singsong voice. The response came as enough of a surprise that Rainbow forgot to breathe for a moment. “I’m in here,” she said, voice drifting from the kitchen like a gentle whisper from Rainbow’s dreams. It sent a chill running through her body; her good wing shivered. Shaking herself back to reality, Rainbow strode forward, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen as she rounded the corner.
Rarity stood with her back to Rainbow, diligently working her magic. A stir here, a sprinkle of spices there. Rainbow was utterly content with leaning there, simply watching Rarity go about her business. Her eyes drifted from the pot of whatever awesome-smelling thing Rarity was making, to the back of her head, then right down her back, straight to her perfectly curved...
“Ah, there you are, Rainbow.” Dash cleared her throat, feeling like a stallion caught snapping pictures through a hole in a mares’ dressing room wall. Heat rose in her face, but she quickly covered it with her wing, running the feathers through her mane like a brush. Nice save, Dash. She couldn’t keep a small grin from tugging on her lips.
“Yep, the one and only,” Rainbow said, pushing herself off the doorframe and waltzing into the kitchen. She pulled back a chair at the table—noting that there were three plates set out—and sat down, nearly propping her hind hooves up on the tabletop before remembering the kind of scolding it would stir up in Rarity. Sighing, Rainbow resorted to simply slouching back in the chair. “So, what is that awesomeness you’re cookin’ up over there?”
Rarity briefly looked up from her work, smiling at Rainbow. “Fettuccine alfredo.”
Rainbow forced a gag. “Sounds healthy. Don’t like it.”
Rarity giggled, shaking her head. Dash loved it when she giggled. She wouldn’t go as far as to say it was cute or anything, since that wasn’t how she rolled, but still it was...
Oh, who am I kidding? It’s adorable. Rainbow had never wanted to beat herself up over a thought more. So uncool. She shook her head and focused on Rarity once more. It amazed Rainbow, just how much Rarity could put into everything she did. From a dress for a princess to a simple meal, she never did anything halfway.
“Honestly, Rainbow Dash, I think you will be surprised just how appetizing this is.” Rarity giggled once more. “I wouldn’t even call it ‘healthy’ if I do say so myself. Celestia knows I wouldn’t be making it if it weren’t for the fact that I knew you’d throw any salad I made against the wall.”
Rainbow rolled her eyes. Assumptions, assumptions. “Sheesh, Rare, I’m not some kinda psycho. I wouldn’t just throw it against the wall.” She grinned. “I’d be sure to put it in the trashcan, like a ‘proper lady.’” Her Rarity impersonation needed some work, and the mane flip left much to be desired, but Rainbow still felt slightly proud of herself. It made Rarity laugh; that was all that mattered in her book.
Lifting her forelegs up behind her head, Rainbow stretched, joint pops and strained groans bouncing around the room. “Well, I think I’m gonna go clean myself up,” she said, rising to her hooves. Her muscles screamed out in protest. Maybe sitting down wasn’t such a good idea. Rainbow stood still, pacing in place as she waited for her legs to stop being jerks to her. “I don’t wanna know what fettu-whatever you call it tastes like when it’s seasoned by sweat and cumulonimbus.”
Rarity shuddered. “Sweat? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flying. Weren’t you just supervising?”
Rainbow nodded, rotating her neck, a series of pops and clicks ringing out and causing Rarity to shudder once more.
“Well, it’s surprising...” Rarity continued. “I’m no expert on your field of work, but surely watching somepony move clouds around couldn't possibly tasking enough to cause you to sweat. No offense intended.”
“Trust me... if you were a pegasus and had to watch Dewdrop try to work, you’d be sweating bullets too.” Rainbow sniffed the air and nearly gagged. “Man, I need a shower!”
“I can attest to that,” Rarity said. “Try not to drown.” Rainbow rolled her eyes. She wasn’t quite sure when or why that joke had come about, but... it just had. Rainbow doubted there was even a rhyme or reason. Probably just Rares trying to be Pinkie or somethin’. Still, it brought a smile to Rainbow’s lips, and as she entered the bathroom, she couldn’t help but let out a single, sputtering laugh.
* * *
As far as Rainbow Dash was concerned, showers were the only way to go. Baths were too calm and quiet; gave her too much time to stew in thoughts she didn’t want to be thinking. Taking a shower, she could sing as much as she wanted and never notice how off-key she was. She could think any thought without realizing how painful they were.
The water thundered in her ears, and for a second it was all that was. No troubled mind, no sinking feelings, just water washing away a day of frustration. If she could spend the rest of the night—the rest of her life—in there, she would. It was peaceful.
She leaned against the wall, head lowered. The warm water curled around her face, falling like a sheet before her eyes, matting her mane so low that she could’ve chewed the strands if she wished. It felt like being bathed in the sun’s rays—like heaven. How Rarity could take showers with cold water, on those rare occasions when she didn’t spend hours soaking in the tub, was something Rainbow doubted she’d ever understand.
Snorting the bathwater out her nose, Rainbow allowed herself to think—truly think—for the first time all day. She thought about how much of a pain in the ass work was. She pondered what she was going to do about Spike. Rarity had said she didn’t want to do anything about it, to let time do its thing and wait until Spike had cooled down (“He didn’t mean anything by it,” she had said. “I’m not upset with him,” she had whispered through teary eyes), but Rainbow had other plans. She wasn’t going to just let someone get away with insulting her marefriend. Spike might be a friend of hers, but a stern talking to would probably do him some good. Realizing that her version of giving a ‘talking to’ would inevitably lead to punches, Rainbow made a note to tell Twilight to talk to Spike. Spike would listen closer to whatever Twilight had to say, and talking with Twilight would probably end with far less bloodshed.
But most of all, Rainbow thought about Rarity. And, as usual, her thoughts drifted from the good and soothing ones to the bad and painful. They built up in Rainbow’s chest, like a horde of cats clawing at her heart. She fell against the side wall of the shower. A pressure built up in Rainbow’s chest, and she slid down onto her haunches.
There, where her choked breaths could be drowned out by the pounding water and the steam kept her a hazy, faceless ghost and her tears could be blamed on the shower simply doing what showers do, Rainbow allowed herself to break. She wept until her lungs and eyes both felt like they were on fire. And even then, they were mere pinpricks compared to the excruciating pain pounding on her head and soul.
Slow. Failure.
* * *
Clinking silverware and slow chewing. That was the soundtrack of dinner in the Carousel Boutique that night—not unlike every other night. Rainbow slurped a noodle up as obnoxiously loud as possible, and glanced over at Rarity, smiling wryly as she prepared for an onslaught of gasps and rants about ‘culture’ and ‘manners’. However, if Rarity had heard her, she didn’t let it on. Her eyes were locked on the center of the table, drifting between her plate and Sweetie Belle.
Rainbow Dash couldn’t say the silence came as a shock. Since the incident, whenever Sweetie Belle and Rarity were in the same room, the air could be cut with a butterknife. And those moments had lasted only moments before Sweetie Belle had scurried off to ‘crusade for a cutie mark’ or Rarity dismissed herself to another room to work on a project. Rainbow had followed Rarity on those occasions. If by ‘work on a project’ she meant ‘break down into a complete mess’ then she wasn’t lying. However, Rainbow had serious doubts that that was the case.
At the dinner table, they had nowhere to hide or run off to, except deep within themselves. Unsurprisingly, they resorted to doing just that.
Spinning a fork on the table with one of her forehooves, Rainbow looked from sister to sister. She wanted to speak up. She wanted to yell, 'Hey, you guys are boring the feathers off me! Quit moping about and, like, tell jokes or blow bubbles in your water or something. Sheesh, this isn’t a friggin’ funeral.' But she bit her tongue. Her special talent wasn’t reading minds, but Rainbow could tell when something was eating somepony from the inside out. Rarity and Sweetie were clearly fighting their own demons; Dash couldn’t blame them. She wasn’t exactly put together herself at the moment.
Still, silence sucked. “So, this stuff’s pretty awesome, Rares,” Rainbow said, thumping her hoof on the table, causing both unicorns to jump in their seats. “Thought it was gonna be some disgusting health food crap, but... well, I stand corrected.”
Rarity smiled, though not as brightly as Rainbow hoped. A small step forward, but progress. “Thank you, Rainbow Dash.” She glanced at Rainbow, and there was a glimmer of a twinkle in it. Yeah! Score one for the Dash team. Dinner saved. “I know how much you enjoy Roamen delicacies—especially ones covered with enough cheese that you can’t even tell there’s broccoli in it.”
“There’s broccoli in here?” For a second, she felt like spitting the bite she’d just taken out, but quickly thought better of it, and swallowed with a gulp and a whimper. She glared down at her plate. She could see chunky bits of green. Broccoli. It just had to be broccoli. Ugh.
A hearty giggle floated across the table. Rainbow’s ears perked up. Sure enough, Rarity was giggling, hoof covered with her mouth. “Well,” Rarity said, “I will admit there are vegetables in there, but trust me when I say I’m not trying to cover them up. They were simply part of the recipe.”
“I know that.” Rainbow ran a hoof through her mane and slurpped up yet another noodle. This time she saw Rarity’s face contort—not much, but a cringe nonetheless. Damn, Dash. You are good. Even dinner can be saved when you’re around. Too bad you couldn’t—
The thought was cut off by the thundering of her forelegs slamming down on the table. Plates jumped, and one of Rainbow’s knives fell. Her hoof ached. She raised it, shaking it, blowing out a shaky breath as she winced. Somehow the table remained in one piece. She couldn’t bring herself to look up. She could see a single small hoof shaking in the corner of her vision; could only imagine what Rarity and Sweetie Belle’s faces looked like.
“Sorry,” Rainbow said, rubbing her right eye with her now-throbbing hoof, “thought... thought I saw a spider.” It was one of the worst lies she’d ever told. No way Rarity would buy it.
“It’s quite alright, Rainbow,” Rarity replied. Dash stole a look up. Rarity was frowning, and something in her eyes told Rainbow that explanations would undoubtedly need to be made later, but there was something about the way the words flowed that calmed Rainbow. An underlying whisper that said, “I understand.” Rainbow Dash took a sip of water, which quickly transformed into chugging. She placed the empty glass on the table with a quiet thunk, and sighed. Her mind could be such an asshole sometimes.
It was Rarity who broke the silence this time. “Well,” she said, drumming daintily on the table, “Rainbow, didn’t you say Fluttershy came by earlier, wanting to invite me to the spa with her, but... had a change in plans?” Rainbow caught Rarity’s quick glance at Sweetie Belle between pauses. She frowned. Great... things are worse than I thought.
“Uh, yeah, she did.”
“Well, I must say that does sound like a splendid idea.” An impish smirk crossed her lips, and Rainbow’s blood ran cold. “You know... you promised me—Pinkie promised me, actually, if I remember correctly—that you were going to go with me on a spa date a ways back. When was it? A month ago?”
“Little over.” Rainbow had a very, very bad feeling about this.
“Then what better time to fulfill your obligation?!” Rarity was bouncing in her seat by now, and Rainbow found it difficult to even think about protesting. A few giggles rang out like bells through the kitchen before suddenly stopping. Rarity placed a hoof against her chin, eyes squinted. “Hmm... I’m not quite sure if I can handle walking all the way out there just yet. Are you going to be near Fluttershy’s tomorrow, by chance?”
Dash looked into those eyes—those damn beautiful, blue eyes—and had to answer, “Yeah...” How could she say anything else to a face like that? “Not much weather to do tomorrow—save for one group of showers down by the pond... ya know, the one behind Sugarcube Corner where Pinkie does all that weird frog-catching stuff?” Rarity shivered and nodded. “Yeah, besides that, the weather’s pretty much the same as today. Slow day. I was planning on going by the library... that’s where Twi’s staying, right?” There was a lengthy pause before Rarity once again nodded—much slower this time. “Going by there,” Rainbow continued. “May be there awhile, but I think I can run by Flutters’ place afterwards.”
“Excellent, excellent,” Rarity cheered, eyes closed and tail swishing. “Oh, it’s been too long since I went there. Aloe and Lotus probably think I’ve left town.” She giggled, scooting her chair back in a surprisingly dignified manner—for a second, Rainbow thought she’d have to jump and catch Rarity’s chair before it fell over. “I know just what would be good right now! I’ll be right back.” With that, she pranced over to a small door in the far corner of the kitchen, and, with a flash of her horn, threw it open. She disappeared into the pantry, humming a happy tune, leaving Rainbow Dash alone with Sweetie Belle.
Swallowing hard, Rainbow Dash glanced over at the filly, hoping that she was still fully-invested in her meal. Luck was not on Dash’s side. Sweetie stared at her, fork swinging lazily in the air, held up by a dim green glow. Rainbow smiled, and she thought that, maybe, Sweetie Belle smiled back, but if she had, it had been too quick and tiny for Rainbow Dash to be sure. It came as a surprise to Rainbow that Sweetie Belle wasn’t scared to death of using magic—let alone using it like a normal unicorn. If Rainbow was a unicorn, and she’d been through what Sweetie had in her first few months of magic practice, she’d probably never cast a spell again.
And that is why you’re a failure.
Rainbow shrugged off the voice. What’d it know? She wasn’t a failure, she was Rainbow Dash: awesomeness extraordinaire. And that she was sure of. Speaking of ‘awesomeness...’
“So, uh, how’s Scoots been?” Rainbow said, adding a little chuckle at the end. “You get to hang with her a lot more than I have. Haven’t seen the squirt in a month.”
“Still Scoots,” Sweetie Belle replied, twirling her pasta with her fork.
That was all the answer Rainbow really needed. She made a note to try to get around to talking to that orange wrecking ball sometime in the near future. Might even help me out a bit with Rares, since they... both... She shook her head. Not there. Not at the dinner table. Those thoughts could be saved for another time. Not here.
Just in the nick of time, Rarity’s humming grew loud once more, and she strode out of the pantry with a long-nosed bottle and two wine glasses gripped tightly in her magic. Even after she’d laid the bottle and glasses down on the table, she refused to stop humming. Rarity’s suddenly sky-high spirits surprised Rainbow. Something was up. She was too upbeat. Rainbow predicted that she’d have some venting to deal with later.
As Rarity popped the top on the wine, Sweetie Belle plopped down from her chair, and made her way back upstairs. Once she was out of sight, Rainbow glanced over to Rarity. She, too, was watching the stairs, but with a look on her face that made Rainbow’s heart shatter. Hesitantly, she lifted a hoof and patted Rarity’s shoulder. That brought a smile to Rarity’s face, and once again, Rainbow found herself sighing in relief.
A filled wine glass hovered in front of Rainbow. White wine. Surprising. Rarity was usually one for red wine, but then again, Rainbow reckoned Rarity wasn’t really looking for taste tonight. A buzzed Rarity usually meant one of two things, and Rainbow hoped that it was the one that led to tangled bedsheets and not torn ones.
“You sure you’re allowed to drink this stuff?” Rainbow Dash watched as the glass swirled in a blue vortex, the wine circling close to the rim but not a drop spilling out. Dash groaned and shook her head. Rarity just had to make everything into a show.
There was a long pause before Rarity shrugged. “One glass shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Besides, I haven’t needed to take any painkillers the last two days.”
Rainbow frowned, but remained silent.
“To a bright tomorrow,” Rarity said, clinking her glass against Rainbow’s, then taking a long sip—much longer than usual. Rainbow held the glass to her lips for a few moments, but couldn’t force herself to take a sip. Wine had never settled well, and her gut was already uneasy enough.
Rarity lowered her wine glass with a loud clink, then moved around the table, towards the door, her tail brushing against Rainbow’s back. Rainbow went rigid, her entire body heating up. She turned just in time to catch Rarity wink at her before making her way upstairs.
“That mare,” Rainbow muttered with a smile. She glanced down at the still-full wine glass. A sip or two couldn’t hurt.
* * *
As she did every night, Rarity stood in front of the mirror and counted her mistakes. Her right forehoof was slightly pruney—wrinkly, like an old gray mare!—and she swore she could see conditioner left in her mane. The tub had already been drained, which meant she’d have to bear it like a scarlet letter. Woe was the centerpiece of Rarity’s after-bath specials. Anypony present with a hunger for dramatics would undoubtedly be satisfied.
However, tonight her performance was subdued. A dull burn poked around her thigh like a swarm of gnats—more annoying than painful. She turned until she was profile to the door-tall mirror, and used her tail to lift up the back of her pink robe. A sigh filled the room, carrying with it a heavy weight. Her eyes drifted from the floor all the way up to where her thigh met her hip. Unlike the usual pains, her white fur hadn’t suddenly been drowned out by red or blue, but even now she could see the muscles jump against her skin. That wasn’t what made her sigh, though. What made her sigh was her flank—her cutie mark.
She looked it over once more and sighed. Two against three. She doubted she’d ever get used to it.
No sooner had she lowered her robe back into its normal position than the door opened. Rainbow Dash strode in as if she owned the place, kicking the door closed behind her, shaking the mirror and drawing a sigh and glare from Rarity. Any ire Rarity tried to throw Rainbow’s way—and she threw a lot—bounced right off her winning grin. Rainbow practically hopped the last few tiles before wrapping her forelegs around Rarity’s neck and giving her a kiss on the neck. A familiar heat rose in Rarity’s face, and she could see her white cheeks being replaced by bright red in her reflection. Drat. Blushing like a schoolfilly. A common tail-chaser. Strike me down now, she thought with a drawn-out sigh.
“Ever thought about doing it in the tub?” As usual, Dash had a one-track mind.
Rarity rolled her eyes. “Is that all you can ever think about?” she asked. “‘Hey, Rarity, let’s make out on your favorite sewing table. ‘Forget about that soufle you just spent making, let’s do it on the counter!’” She would have gone on longer, but her throat screamed for her to stop. Her act was broken by a string of coughs. Impersonating Dash was a lot harder on the throat than she’d first thought.
“Come on, Rare, I don’t just think about sex.” Rainbow grinned. “It’s just the whipped cream on an awesome sundae.”
“I’m going to assume that was innuendo, because if not, that might just be the worst metaphor I have ever heard. And I’ve read pharmacy romance novels.” Rainbow kicked at the tiles, snorting, her ears falling flat against her head and the most precious scowl on her face. Rarity giggled, and had to fight the urge to hug her marefriend right then and there. She failed, and soon found her forelegs draped over Rainbow’s shoulders, lips pressed firmly together. The kiss lasted but a second, ending when Dash pushed her back. From the wide eyes and gaping jaw, Rarity thought she had screwed up, but the slack-jawed expression was quickly replaced by a grin, and Rarity found her lips getting acquainted with Dash’s once more.
Rarity’s hooves traced Rainbow’s neck, moving down her back and to her wings. Slowly, with more diligence than was probably needed, she started to stroke the feathers in Rainbow’s good wing. The first time they’d done this, she’d mistakenly stroked the feathers in Dash’s bad wing. A chipped tooth had taught Rarity her lesson. She moved her hoof along the feathers once more, and she felt Dash shudder. One of these days, Rarity was going to teach herself how to preen a pegasus. Eventually. When she had time and after both of Rainbow’s wings were in good shape.
Suddenly, Rarity found herself raised into the air. The open space under her haunches was replaced with the cold porcelain of the sink’s lip. Dash hadn’t opened her eyes, or even moved her lips away from Rarity’s since they’d started. Rarity’s gut started to twist, and she pushed against Rainbow, however the pegasus’ lips remained locked. Rarity mumbled, her words lost to Rainbow’s lips. She has to come up for breathsometime... right?
Rainbow’s hooves moved down Rarity’s back, curving across her ribs—sending a quiver through Rarity—and then sliding down her chest. Once those unwashed, rough hooves touched her hips, Rarity knew she had to do something. With little in the way of ladylike grace and much in the way of a mare scorned, Rarity pushed Rainbow Dash away, nearly sending her toppling to the floor—no doubt she would’ve smacked the back of her head on the lip of the tub if she hadn’t caught herself. For a moment, Rainbow stood at her hooves, then her eyes shifted to Rarity, set in a glare. No doubt a wave of loud profanities was coming.
So Rarity stopped them before they could begin. “Not tonight,” she whispered. “Please, Dash... not tonight.” She was surprised to find her words getting caught in her throat, and her eyes burning. The painkillers she’d been prescribed really had a kick to them.
“All right, all right.” Dash raised a foreleg , fire in her eyes cooling down almost instantly. “Sheeh. All you had to do was ask, Rare. If you don’t wanna, we don’t have to. I’m not gonna force you to.” She rubbed her shoulder. “Didn’t have to friggin’ kick me either. That thing stings, ya know.”
Rarity giggled, rubbing the back of her neck. “Apologies. Sometimes I... forget.” If only that were the truth.
“Well...” Dash began as she tapped her hoof on the floor—off-rhythm and far too loud. “I’ve got a bit of a busy day tomorrow, so I think I’m gonna hit the hay. You coming to bed soon?”
“I was just about to,” Rarity replied, glancing at herself once more in the mirror. She was, in her opinion, nothing short of hideous, but a voice in the back of her head kept saying, Just leave it be. Get some rest. Any fixing up you could do tonight could just as easily be done in the morning. As much as she hated to admit it, the voice had a point. She stole one last look at her reflection before turning to Rainbow.
“Right behind you,” she said. Surprisingly, the response brought a smile to Rainbow’s face. Rarity smiled back, following her out into the dim bedroom. Just as the last slivers of light left Rarity behind, she glanced back over her right shoulder, toward where her cutie mark lay, the diamonds that had once shone in all light now dim and lifeless. Tiny glints of light reflected slightly below where she knew her mark was, like stars dotting a hazy sky. Her cheeks felt like they’d been filled with air, but for once she refused to look away. She’d have to accept it, sooner or later, and Rarity would much rather it be the former. With a flash of blue, the door to the bathroom closed, leaving her in the dark, faint moonbeams shining through the window and bouncing off a silhouette.
Caught in between.
For not the first time since she’d woken, Rarity felt like she was lost in another world—another state of being. Even after she sat down on the edge of the bed, her horn lighting up and sending a snap and thump echoing through the silent night, even after she felt the mattress against her back, then belly, and pillow against her cheek, even after a wing draped over her back, and even after the last bits of moonlight began to fade to nothing, Rarity couldn’t help but feel like she was still in a coma. Still waiting to be awoken. Still in one piece. Her hoof drifted down her right side, curving around her hip, stroking her cutie mark, and then rubbing empty space.
Rarity’s lungs filled with air, and it felt like the first breath she’d ever taken. The world around her was dark—all shadows and objects just beyond the horizon—but she could hear it. There were beeps and distant hoofsteps, bouncing around her head as if somepony was marching around in there. Each step rattled her skull, yet, if anything, it was calming.
A part of her wanted to stay there. Come to think of it, did she have a choice?
Not here, came a thought, a voice that rang out like hundreds at once.
Very well, she answered in a voice that seemed foreign—that didn’t seem like a voice at all.
The air was thick with sickness and death, life and health, hope and surrender, all tinged with a strong stench of disinfectant. She snorted, and nearly coughed, but her mouth refused to open enough for even that to happen. Her chest heaved a few times, bombarding her eardrums with a cacophony. From the rattling of her ribs to the squeaking of... something beneath her, her ears, head, and very core were assaulted. All at once, the pain came back. She wanted to get out. Only seconds ago this place had been the epitome of serene. What happened?
I need to get out of here.
There was no light at the end of the murky void; no voice on the edge of unconsciousness. Rarity simply opened her eyes, first a crack, then a little more. The first thing she saw, after the light quit blinding her, was large, white tiles. Ugly things. She could count the amount of holes and dents in them, and was utterly revolted to find that they numbered in the tens. What a disaster of a... wherever she was. It most certainly was not her house; her brain wouldn’t dare even have nightmares about her ceiling being this awful.
Her mouth tasted foul. She couldn’t pick out what tastes were in there—morning breath, week-old coffee, a swamp in the summer, Celestia knows what else—but she could point out that it made her want to throw up. She turned her head to the side, coughed, and retched, but nothing came out. Instead, she was stuck with dry heaves and a pounding headache. To make it worse, every muscle in her body seemed to still be deep in their beauty sleep, and she found that she lacked the strength to even right her head. Her neck was killing her, as was everything else.
What a great way to wake up.
She almost thought, it could be worse, but quickly chose against it. She knew how life worked; if she were to think such a thing, it would do everything it could to prove her wrong. Rarity groaned and clenched her eyes tight—it didn’t do as much help for her headache as she’d hoped—then groaned once more, a little louder, and opened her eyes.
Things got worse.
She shut her eyes again. Please tell me that’s not—
“Well, look who finally decided to wake up.”
Why? Why, why, whywhywhy?!
She refused to open her eyes. No, she was still dreaming. Still asleep. Still—
“C’mon, Rare. Up and at ‘em.” The laugh that rang out after... it might as well have been a knife in Rarity’s brain. She sighed. There was nowhere to run or hide. Her muscles still lay asleep, and even if they weren’t, she wouldn’t be able to get away. She was stuck. Trapped. The only way out was to simply accept.
Cursing the day, Rarity let her eyes open again. Somehow, her headache had gotten much, much worse.
Across from where she lay was Rainbow Dash, dressed in a green gown, her foreleg propped on the railing of the bed and something between a smirk and a frown stretched across her face. Rarity’s brow furrowed. Green? Rainbow Dash would never wear such a color, not unless...
She looked around the room. In hindsight, it shouldn’t have shocked her that she was in the hospital. The beeping, the smell, the way the hooves marched along the hallway outside the room, the way everything felt wrong: it was all too obvious, she had to admit.
Her gaze drifted to herself. She too was in a revolting gown, though most of it was hidden underneath equally tacky sheets. Various wires and tubes led down into left foreleg—she could only guess that her right foreleg was equally riddled. She could even feel them draped across her chest, ice cold. Not as cold as her body felt at that moment. So many wires... so many needles. They wouldn’t scar, would they? The incessant beeping of the heart monitor carried on and on, and Rarity found herself wishing Rainbow Dash would say something. Anything to drown out that infernal beeping.
As her eyes moved back to Rainbow Dash, a feeling slammed into her chest like a freight train. No, not a feeling: memories. They rushed before her eyes, bits and pieces, sights and sounds. She remembered Sweetie Belle’s magic engulfing her, remembered kissing Rainbow Dash, remembered every word spoken and glance stolen, remembered the attack, remembered everything.
Now more than ever, she really wished she had something to throw up. Dry heaves were, Rarity decided, the worst of all worst possible things. Across the room, Rainbow Dash laughed like a kid who’d just found their best friend’s baby pictures.
“Docs said you’d be a bit weird when you woke up.” She chuckled. “Didn’t expect this, though.”
“Too much... too quick...” Rarity sputtered, trying to lift a foreleg to wipe her eyes. It was a waste of effort; her legs were still dozing, as though she’d fallen asleep laying on all four of them. She was able to wriggle her left foreleg just a tad—a tiny counter clockwise rotation—but it felt like her bones and muscles had been replaced with sand. Angry at anything and everything that had been and ever would be, Rarity gritted her teeth and begged for her stomach to stop.
Eventually it did. However that did nothing to extinguish the burning ire rising in Rarity’s chest. Why couldn’t she remember what day it was? Why did hospital gowns have to be such an awful color? Why did everything feel so wrong?
“How ya feelin’, Rare?” Rarity’s eyes shot open in a glare. How do you think? she wanted to ask. But as soon as she was able to focus on Rainbow Dash, she held her tongue. There was something to the way Rainbow looked at her. A glint in her eye—a gleam of light in the corner of her irises that shook like a leaf. Rarity’s chest suddenly went weightless, and she took a deep, shaky breath.
“I’d be lying if I said ‘never better,’” she said. Her body still ached all over, and nothing felt right, but still... something about Rainbow Dash being there made it at least bearable. She sighed and rubbed her face against the pillow. It felt like rocks. “Dash? Could you be a dear and explain to me just what the...” She took a deep breath. Her face was a raging inferno, but her blood sat frozen in her veins. “What’s going on?” she finally asked, voice as shaky as her grip on reality.
Rainbow frowned and tapped her hoof on the plastic railing of her bed. “How much do you remember?”
“I...” A wave of coughs cut her reply, carrying on for what seemed to be eons. Eventually, her lungs settled, or at least settled as much as they could. Her throat was sandpaper. At that moment, she wanted a glass of water more than anything she’d ever desired in her life.
As if she could somehow read her mind, Rainbow Dash pulled out her IV and hopped out of her bed. In less than ten seconds, she was right next to Rarity’s bed, a table with a pitcher of water and a few plastic cups being pushed along by a foreleg, while her heart monitor was dragged behind her by her right wing. Before Rarity could speak a word of protest, Rainbow had already taken a seat on her bed, pouring a cupful of water and shoving it against Rarity’s lips.
“You’re weak,” she said as Rarity sputtered. “I know this sucks, but if I let you try to hold it... yeah. Which would you prefer: water up your nose or all over you?” Rarity grumbled and coughed, but said not a word. “Better?” Rainbow raised a hoof and wiped off Rarity’s chin. Like I’m some baby, Rarity thought with a frown. Still, each message sent to her forelegs was sent in vain. If anything she should be thanking Dash right now.
When I can move, I will.
“So,” Rarity said after a long moment of silence, throat still raw, “what’s going on?” She coughed a few more times, but raised a hoof when Rainbow offered her another cup of water. “Why are you here? Why does it feel like I’ve been sleeping for years?”
“Close, but no cigar.” Rainbow chuckled and ran a hoof through her mane. “Okay, so you remember how we got stuck out in... well, in the middle of nowhere, right?”
Rarity nodded. Resting her throat was probably for the best.
“And you remember those wolves?” Rainbow’s smile vanished in the blink of an eye. Rarity’s throat burned, but this time she was positive it wasn’t a cough that wanted to break out. Though her entire face was numb, she forced a nod.
“Well... they messed us up pretty good.” Rainbow looked over her shoulder, and for the first time Rarity noticed the mass of bandages holding her left wing tight against her side. “It’s fine,” she said. “Bones got messed up pretty good, but the muscles and ligaments and all those other things are all right.” She looked back at Rarity. The glint in her eyes was dull, broken; Rarity knew something was wrong. What it was... she wasn’t so sure she wanted to know.
“That’s... good to hear.” She managed a smile. Rainbow’s lips didn’t curve upwards even an inch. “Where is everypony? I would have thought they’d be eager to see us after all this?”
“Outside,” Rainbow said.
“Why ‘outside?’”
“Because... we thought it’d be best if...”
If time was moving forward at that time, Rarity couldn’t tell. As far as she was concerned, everything had frozen; even the beeping of the heart monitor no longer existed. It was just her, Rainbow Dash, and silence. Heavy, heavy silence.
“Rainbow, what—”
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Well...” Rarity didn’t want to say anything. This was blazing down a path she didn’t want to follow. You’re going to have to learn eventually, a voice in the back of her head whispered. She sighed, closing her eyes tight.
Their voices rang out in a din, like the choir of hell. Rarity couldn't understand the words—their voices droning on and on like a hurricane’s wind—but she could see their faces, and the expressions they wore spoke volumes. Eyes met eyes met chart met her, and so on and so forth. A nurse jabbed her with something—a quick strike. Rarity couldn’t conjure the energy to turn her head and see what it was. She guessed it was better left unseen; probably long and pointy, and would make her heart sink below the floor of her gut where it had settled just days prior. The day she had first heard...
Sweat poured down her face, her pillow was soaked. Her entire body burned. From her leg to her chest to her head, everything felt like it had beaten by a hammer then set aflame. She wondered if it was possible to die from a broken leg. It sure felt like she was knocking on Death’s door. That probably wouldn’t go down well in the history books: Rarity Belle. Bearer of the Element of Generosity. Died from a leg fracture suffered in a timber wolf attack, brought forth by a freak kissing incident with the Element of Loyalty and a magic lesson gone awry. No... that was certainly not how she wanted to be remembered.
Her gaze drifted from the doctors—their fancy jargon and countless instruments only brought her headaches—to the cause of her problems. Her throat clenched tight and her brain refused to see what was clearly there. After all, it couldn’t be. Not in a world like this. Yet there it was, staring back at her, like a knife sticking through her stomach.
The leg lay unwrapped, the casting removed to make testing easier for the doctors. Savages. She was a lady, not a lab rat they could stick and fill with whatever they got their grubby hooves on. It lay flat—or rather, as flat as it could—on the bed, sheet pulled up so it was at the ready whenever somepony felt the desire to prick it with some vaccine or simply observe. Maybe in the past, Rarity wouldn’t mind somepony paying close attention to her leg, but not now. Not like this. There was nothing beautiful about it now. Not like this.
Not a day after she’d reached the hospital—less than twenty-four hours after she'd been wheeled into surgery and her twisted leg had been straightened out by a coat of plaster—the problems had truly begun. Her leg felt like it was on fire, and for three days she lay in the hospital bed, unable to sleep or even think. On the fourth day, they’d removed the cast, and the pain, somehow, got worse. Now her leg was bloated and black, green lines running up it like someone had taken a marker and doodled all over her veins. The lines went up her calf, past her knee, and halfway up her thigh. She swore that, if she turned her neck at just the right angle, she could even see one of the diamonds on her flank turning the faintest, sickest shade of green.
Rarity was about as far from a medical professional as a pony could get, but something told her this went beyond a simple break.
She hadn’t received many visitors, the doctors insisting that she be kept in a... they may have said “sterile” environment, but Rarity hadn’t been all there since she’d been admitted to the hospital. Out of all her friends, only Twilight Sparkle had been allowed to see her—probably the whole ‘princess’ thing—and even then she was mainly messing around with her leg like all the doctors. At least Twilight was much more pleasant company than them—smiling and even talking a bit. Princess Celestia and Luna had also swung by, but said not a word. They too only looked at her leg, shook their heads, whispered some words Rarity couldn’t hear completely to the doctors, and then went on their way.
One of the doctors—a unicorn stallion with a pale coat and neatly-trimmed brown beard—approached her and said... something. She couldn’t hear what. Even the look on his face was unreadable. He arched an eyebrow, and Rarity suddenly realized she’d been asked a question. Ears still ringing and mind adrift on a stormy sea, she nodded, slowly and gracelessly. There was a long pause before the stallion nodded, then turned to his comrades and nodded once more. A nurse strode forward, and pulled out her IV drip, replacing it with something else. Almost immediately, the world started to spin around Rarity, as if she were on a carousel that had been possessed by a madmare. Lights pulsed and dimmed, the ringing in her ears was replaced with a dull sound not unlike waves crashing along a shore, and her mind slipped off into the ether.
“... And then—”
“You woke up. Just now,” Rainbow jumped in, pulling Rarity from her memory. It felt more like being pulled into icy waters. Rarity couldn’t even force a nod. She needed to see. Needed to know. She knew she wouldn’t like it. That much was obvious. But still, she had to...
Frigid blood rushed through her body, and her hoof lifted off the bed, moving over to the sheets. Her head thundered, and there was only her, her hoof, and the unavoidable truth. Somewhere in the hazy corner of her vision, Dash spoke. “Rarity, pl...” was all she could make out.
It happened in slow motion. She hooked the sheets on her forehoof, and threw them back. A cyan leg thrust itself into her tunnel-vision, reaching for blankets, trying to hide the truth. However, it was too slow, and the sheets fell off to the side. As Rarity stared at her exposed body, she wished Rainbow had grabbed the sheets. Had hidden the truth, even if only for a minute more.
She could have found positives in how clean her coat was given the situation, or how they’d kept her tail in just the right position to avoid tangles. But at that moment, and forever after, there was only one thing.
The short nub where her right hind leg was supposed to be.
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel, couldn’t think. All she could do was stare, and even that was mostly blurry. The world had just ended before her. She was dead. She had to be. Just a damned spirit. This couldn’t possibly be anything more than a dream—a nightmare.
“Nopony knows,” Rainbow answered softly. “Not the doctors, or Twilight, or even the princesses.”
“But... I just... was just a...”
“It wasn’t the break, Rares.” Under normal circumstance, Rarity would have questioned how Rainbow Dash seemed to be able to read her thoughts, but this was anything but normal; the question didn’t even cross her mind. There was only her and it. “Look, I don’t know exactly what... they just said it was... Rarity, I’m sorry.”
This can’t be... I just... it wasn’t that bad. Not that bad at all. What... no, this can’t... I... this has got to be a...
Her thoughts were cut off by a weight pressing against her, wrapping around her torso. Though she couldn’t move her eyes from the stump, blue feathers suddenly blotted it out. The ability to feel rushed back into her like a cannonball, and she began to sob into Rainbow’s outstretched wing.
“Why?” She wept. Rainbow’s wing only tightened.
“It was the only way... you would’ve died if they hadn—”
“Well then, why couldn’t they have just let me die instead of becoming some three-legged freak?!”
The wing loosened. “Don’t,” Rainbow said through gritted teeth. “Don’t you dare even think that!”
At another time—as another unicorn—Rarity would have taken offence to Dash’s tone, would have argued and wept and begged for death more. But something in the way Rainbow said what she’d said made Rarity stop. For a single second, the cries ceased, as did everything else. Only Rainbow Dash moved, and she used that gift to lean down in front of Rarity’s face and give a faint smile that warmed Rarity to her very core. In the corners of her ruby eyes were tears—not much unlike Rarity’s own.
“We’ll get through this, Rare. I promise.”
And though she buried her face back into Rainbow's wing, though the sobs rose in her chest once more, Rarity believed her.
Rainbow awoke to grunting. At first she thought it was simply sounds from a dream still playing in her ears, but no, soaring over the sea didn't call for grunts. Laughing? Definitely. Wind flowing through her mane? Sure. But not grunting.
Taking a quick breath, Rainbow raised herself off the pillow, and promptly fell back down into its embrace. Why did Rarity have to own such comfortable pillows? Nopony in their right mind would ever want to leave the things behind. Giving a grunt of her own, Rainbow turned her head to the side, placing her cheek on the pillow. The world around her was not quite as dark as she had guessed. She thought she would find herself staring at a swirling mass of shadows. Instead, she gazed upon a half-lit room and an abandoned pillow beside her.
Huh... was all she thought as she let her eyes slowly close once more. Sleep beckoned, but no matter how hard she clenched her eyelids, no matter how many sheep she counted, it escaped her. The light was far too bright, and the grunting refused to stop.
Her eyes flew open. A lightbulb went off in her head, blinding and scorching. She shot up in bed as though a bomb had just gone off right beside her ear. It might as well have. Her eyes darted to the bathroom door, hanging wide open, the light on and headache-inducingly bright; to Rarity leaning against the doorframe, shaking like a pony doused in ice water; to that stump, wriggling in the air as if there was still a full leg attached to it. In the blink of an eye Rainbow was out of bed.
“Rares,” she said, nearly breaking her neck tripping over the corner of Rarity’s too-large-for-its-own-good dresser as she rushed up beside her. Once she was sure she had regained her balance, Rainbow continued. “What’s going on? You alright?”
Rarity’s mane hung in disheveled waves across her shoulders and the scent of sweat trailed its way up Rainbow’s nostrils. Rarity refused to look at her, instead choosing to focus on the tiles before her. Rainbow eyed them. Nothing special, not even a speck of dust.
“Rares?” Rainbow repeated, taking a step closer. She lifted a foreleg, preparing to rest it upon Rarity’s back, but quickly thought better of it. Rarity was shaky enough; no doubt the added weight would make her buckle.
“I... Rainbow, go back to bed. Please.” Rarity’s words came out as if she was choking on them. “Please, just...” Her voice trailed off in a crackly whimper. Rainbow’s ears fell flat against her head as soon as the sound hit them.
“Rarity, what’s going on? Why are you—”
“I... I woke up... had to use the washroom... and I... I forgot...” She didn’t have to finish the sentence. Rainbow glanced back to the foot of the bed, to the to the prosthetic still lying on its side, sticking out like a torch.
“Did you try levitating it over to you?”
“Yes. I tried. My head’s too... it didn't work.”
“Don't worry, I’ll get it.” Rainbow turned to retrieve the prosthetic, but was stopped after only two steps.
“No,” Rarity said through gritted teeth.
Rainbow tilted her head back. It was her turn to groan. “But... come on, Rare. It’ll be easier if you just—”
“Nothing is easy,” Rarity spat. “I can make it on my own.” She took a step forward. For that one step, she was right, but walking only on one’s forelegs is a task reserved for the skilled, and Rarity was far from an Equestria Games-level gymnast. The second step was met with her nearly crumbling to the ground. Somehow, Rarity managed to land on her haunches rather gracefully instead of flat on her face. A lesser pony would have been fooled, would have thought that sitting down in the middle of the bathroom had been Rarity’s intention from the start, but Rainbow knew better.
Without a word, or acknowledging Rarity’s squeaks of protest, Rainbow inched her way over until their sides touched. Rarity shuddered, but the complaints stopped. Pushing her luck, Rainbow slowly unfurled her good wing and draped it over Rarity’s shoulders. She didn’t even quiver this time. When in doubt, wing, Rainbow thought, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. Works every time.
“Come on, Rare.” She stroked her back with her wing. “Lemme help you up.”
“Rainbow... I appreciate it. Really, I do, but... I can do this myself.”
“Too bad. I’m gonna help you anyway. Come on, let’s get you up.” Before Rarity could get another word in, Rainbow had tucked her wings under her belly and lifted her up. Once she had her up, Rainbow darted around to Rarity’s right side before she could even blink. As Rainbow expected, Rarity fell against her, but this time she at least had the most awesome leaning post in Equestria rather than some boring old door frame.
“Alright,” Rainbow said. “Move forward. I gotcha.”
They moved forward at a snail’s pace. By the time they reached the toilet, Rarity was gasping for air. Rainbow stole a glance at her. From her limp mane to the tip of her chin, Rarity was covered in sweat. She stared at the floor, shaking her head, squeezing her eyelids so tight that Rainbow could see the muscles twitching. Rainbow sighed and rubbed a hoof along her partner’s back. Then, without even a whisper, Rainbow stole a nuzzle at Rarity’s cheek, turned her around, and, using her wing as a third foreleg, helped her take a seat.
“You good?” Rainbow said, taking a step back. Rarity only nodded, but that was enough. “I’ll give you some privacy.” Like a flash, she was out of there, leaning against the bedroom wall, thumping her head against it.
It’s not right.
“Ain’t ever about right. Things happen, Rainbow.”
Rainbow shuddered. Between finding love, not flying in months, and dealing with the everyday trials of living with a handicapped marefriend, it was only fair that voices from her past were given the chance to spring up and kick her while she was down. Still, she really, really wished it hadn’t been his.
It was impossible to shake or beat memories away, but Rainbow tried nonetheless. She shook and thumped her head against the wall until the voice was but a faint echo of an echo. But it was still there, waiting to strike again.
Quit thinking about it.
Now that was a voice she could agree with. “You doing alright in there?” she called out.
“Fine,” Rarity said. A flush emitted from the room. “Just fine.”
“You want me to get your leg?”
“No. I’m going right back to bed anyway.” Rarity’s words were followed by the all too familiar clicks of hooves stumbling across tile. Rainbow Dash groaned.
“Rare, come on!” Rarity muttered something in response, but Rainbow couldn’t hear what. “I’m only trying to help here.”
Somewhere in the bathroom, Rarity huffed. “While I appreciate the offer, I can assure you that I have this handled, Rainbow Dash. I am perfectly capable of—waha!” There was a squeak and a smack. With a sigh, Rainbow left the comforts of the wall and entered the bathroom. Rarity lay splayed out on the floor, lower lip set in a pout. “Don’t laugh,” she mumbled.
“Wasn’t planning on it. You hurt?”
"No."
"Good. C’mon then... up you go.” Rainbow leaned down beside Rarity, unfurled her wing, and, with a single grunt, tossed her up onto her back.
Surprisingly, no protest came from Rarity, not a single annoyed sigh or whine of “I am a lady, not a bag. Put me down this instant, you ruffian!” Her chin fell against Rainbow’s ribs, her tail brushing along her flank. The only sound besides Rainbow’s hooves clicking against the floor was Rarity’s high, tremulous breathing.
It’s not right.
The walk back into the bedroom seemed to take forever, each step filled with stumbles and grunts. By the time they reached the bed, it was Rainbow who was breathing hard. Slowly, she placed Rarity in the bed, pulling the covers up to around her midsection before white hooves gripped them and pulled them all the way up to her chin.
Chuckling and wiping her sweat-drenched brow, Rainbow leaned down and gave Rarity a single peck on the cheek. In the past she would have gagged at the mere idea of doing such a thing. Now, it felt as right as anything. She pulled back, just enough to see a smile cross Rarity’s lips. Rainbow returned the favor.
“Still awake?” Rainbow asked.
A small chortle escaped Rarity’s lips. “As long as you keep running your mouth.”
“Heh, well... I’m gonna go take a walk. Get some fresh air, ya know?” Rainbow bit her lip and tapped her hoof against the mattress, a chorus of squeaks ringing out. It may have felt like a cloud, but it sure didn’t sound like one. “You gonna be alright?”
It was Rarity’s turn to run a hoof through her mane. “I think I’ll remember this time,” she said. “I’m so sorry, Dash. I don’t know what got into me. I just...” The sentence died with a drawn-out sigh.
“It’s cool, Rare,” Rainbow said. “Probably just so used to being without... yet with... and there’s some way I could probably say this but... bleh, words are your thing.”
“You’re a lot more eloquent than you give yourself credit for, Rainbow.”
“Now that, I know, is a load of crap.”
Rarity giggled. “Just in your own Rainbow-y way.”
“You’re nuts.” Rainbow Dash shook her head. Glancing out the window, she noticed the faintest sliver of red on the horizon. “So... you’re good?”
Rarity stretched her forelegs out over her head and yawned. “Yes. I think a good, long date with my beauty sleep is just what the doctor ordered.”
Letting out a short chuckle, Rainbow leaned down and gave Rarity another light peck, this time on the tip of her nose, eliciting a giggle. "I’ll see you this evening.”
“You’re spending the night again?”
“Of course!” Rainbow had to laugh at that. It’s been the same answer two weeks in a row, Rare. Get your act together. She cleared her throat, but her words still came out as a chuckle. “I practically live here now.”
Rarity frowned. “Rainbow, while I must admit that I love you being here as much as you have, I really do think you should spend a night in your own house every once in a while. Poor little Tank is probably up there right now, scared and starving and wondering where his best friend has run off to.”
Rainbow rolled her eyes and shot a smirk at her weary partner. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that if you’re trying to guilt me. Did you forget about the whole 'not flying' thing?” Rarity pouted, causing Rainbow’s smirk to widen into a full-on grin. “Nah, I've gotten a lift up to the ol' cloudhouse as often as I can. Spend a good hour there. Feed Tank, make sure he gets his daily fly in, even get the mail, though it’s mainly just coupons nowadays. And when I can't, Fluttershy goes up there to make sure everything's going good, so... yeah, I don’t think he’s ‘scared and starving.’ Unless a thunderstorm comes by. Still gotta teach that geezer to nut up when the storms blow by.”
Rarity let out a small giggle and nodded. “Choice is yours, Rainbow,” she said, words heavy with sleep.
“Wow, sentence fragments. Heh, you must really be beat.”
“Hmm... eh … lemmesleep.” Letting out one last high pitched sigh, Rarity turned over onto her side, wrapping the covers around her.
Rainbow snorted and ran a hoof along Rarity’s back. “Sure, sure. See you this evening.” With that, she tiphoofed to the door. The door proved squeaker than she had hoped, and she heard Rarity tossing in the sheets as the infernal hinges shrieked loud and proud, grating Rainbow’s ears until the click of the latch shut them off.
As she snuck her way down the hall, past Sweetie Belle’s room, downstairs,and out the door, only one thought crossed her mind—a thought that even the late fall breeze and waking birdsongs couldn’t drown out.
I need some coffee.
* * *
“... And I know that the sculpture wasn’t meant to be eaten, but, honestly, who makes a life-sized replica of Princess Celestia out of gingerbread and doesn’t expect somepony to eat it?”
Rainbow sighed and stared into her cup of way-too-sweet coffee. Sugarcube Corner was a fine place to go if she wanted a muffin or some other sugar-loaded pastry, but when it came to a decent cup of joe, they were way behind. Though the coffee was about as appetizing as a cup of nails, Pinkie more than made up for it. There was no way Dash could not be awake when that crazy pony was around.
“Which reminds me,” Pinkie continued without taking another breath, “of that time I got kicked out of the Biltmare House for trying to eat the cookies in their Hearth’s Warming trees. They should have been the ones kicked out: cookies are for eating, not for hanging on a tree!”
“Pinkie, those weren’t even real cookies, you know that right?”
“Yes they were. I know a cookie when I taste one, and those were definitely cookies.”
“Huh.” Rainbow broke eye contact with the creamer swirling in her coffee—to her, it looked surprisingly like a rabbit with a beard—and glanced around the Corner. Her sigh filled the room, bouncing off all the empty tables and chairs. Sugarcube Corner just wasn’t a morning place, she supposed. It was only her and Pinkie. A Pinkie whom was on her fifth cup of coffee since Dash had arrived.
Just perfect.
“So, Dashie,” Pinkie said over the rim of her pig-head mug, “what are you doing here so early?”
Rainbow shrugged. “Wanted some coffee. This place is way better on the coinpurse than the friggin' Spacebuckers or whatever that new place is they opened next to the sofa shop.”
“You just wanted coffee?” Pinkie continued to peer over her cup, watching Dash like a very creepy and smiley hawk. “Is that why I found you half passed out, face in your hooves on the doorstep before I even opened up shop?”
Rainbow snorted, taking a sip of her own lukewarm brew and forcing it down. She might as well have been drinking cough syrup. “Duh,” she managed to say between heavy swallows.
“What happened, Dashie?” Pinkie placed the porcelain pig on the table and leaned forward, getting way too close for comfort.
“Nothing happened. I—Jeez, Pinkie, a little space?” She pushed Pinkie’s nose off her own before she continued. “Haven’t you heard of breathing room?” Pinkie stared at her with wide, blank eyes. “Look, it’s nothing, I’m just—Alright, what?! Why do you keep looking at me like that?”
“Still trying to figure out the ‘breathing room,’” Pinkie said, drumming a hoof on the countertop. “I’ve never heard of a ‘no breathing room,’ so what purpose could a ‘breathing room’ possibly serve?”
Rainbow’s head fell against the counter, causing Pinkie’s mug to jump off it. She caught it in her mouth and, leaning back, downed what little coffee was left. She laid it back down on the table with a loud “whoop!”
“You’re impossible,” Dash said, words muffled by sugar-stained wood.
“That’s a title I’ve never heard of.”
Rainbow grunted and lifted her head just enough that she could rest her chin on the tabletop. “Congratulations,” she said out the corner of her mouth, “I’ll send you a card.”
Pinkie giggled and patted Rainbow’s head. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Dashie.” Her hoof was swatted away by a flailing foreleg.
“Cut it out.” Rainbow slapped at her own head as though there was a spider in her mane. By the time she stopped, Pinkie had already pulled back and refilled that stupid pig cup of hers. Dash frowned. Six cups of coffee in six minutes, Celestia have mercy on us all.
“So,” Pinkie said, somehow clear through a mouthful of coffee, “how’s Rarity? You two lovebirds still swooning over each other.”
“I. Don’t. Swoon. Period.” Rainbow leaned back on the bench, though with her booth being cramped into the corner of the dining room, leaning back was more like a small tip of her chin. She ran a hoof through her mane, sighing all the way. “She’s... it depends on the day, really.”
To Rainbow’s surprise, Pinkie simply sat there, eyes focused on her, not a silly object or potential prank in sight.
“This morning was pretty rough,” Rainbow continued. “She... forgot about her leg, and, well when she tried to go to the bathroom...” Her head felt as though some tiny pony had burrowed its way in and started wailing on her skull with a sledgehammer. “Yeah.”
“That’s no fun.” It was the closest Rainbow had seen Pinkie come to outright frowning in a long time. “Though... that does remind me of something I’ve been working on recently!” Her almost-frown transformed into a near-maniacal grin.
Rainbow tried to burrow her hooves into her temples. “Oh dear goddesses, what?”
With a fanfare of kazoos coming from... somewhere, Pinkie pulled a large cannon-like object out of thin air and placed it on the table. She watched with a toothy smile as Rainbow took in the utterly confusing object laid out before her. It was exactly what it looked like: a cannon. Granted, it was less than half the size of a regular cannon, and it had a strap wrapped around its neck for some reason. Peering into its mouth, Rainbow found not a shaft of darkness, but hundreds of glints of light.
“What the hay is this?”
Pinkie reared back. “Can’t you tell? It’s obvious!”
Rainbow forced a smirk. “What you consider obvious is a dead language to ponies like me, Pinks.”
“Fine, fine. Ponies these days.” She pulled some eyeglasses and a large piece of posterboard out from underneath the table, then set the posterboard out on a tripod Rainbow was certain hadn’t been there a second before, then jammed her face right into the forest of curls that was her tail. She emerged with a long, metal pointer held firmly between her teeth.
A clearing of her throat that was way louder than it probably should have been, and Pinkie began her lesson.
“Okay,” she said, flinging her pointer at the first figure, a stick figure of a pony with a smiley face, heavily-styled squiggle mane, what looked like it could have been a dress, and a necklace that, had it been a real thing, would probably have broken the neck of whatever pony wore it. “This is Rarity before. Happy, wearing dresses and jewelry, completely fabulous.
“This, though”—she pointed to a figure next to it, one with a frown (even a single inky tear in the corner of one of its dot eyes), limper mane, no dress or weighty necklaces, and a bunch of smudges and shavings where Pinkie had erased this stick Rarity’s hind leg—”is Rarity now. Saddy waddy and far from fabulous.”
Rainbow blew out a stream of hot air. “I’m well aware of this, Pinkie. Now, get to the point.”
“I will not tolerate impatience and that attitude in my classroom, young miss,” Pinkie said in a frighteningly accurate old gray mare voice. However, great imitation ability didn't come packaged with acting ability, and Pinkie broke into giggles almost as soon as the last word left her mouth.
“So I began to ponder...” There were five words that, from Rainbow’s experience, had never led to a good thing. “How do I give Rarity that fabulousity back? I mean, you know as well as I do that an un-fabulous Rarity isn’t a happy Rarity.”
Rainbow let out yet another sigh, this one with a downward gaze rather than a furrowed brow. Pinkie was right on the money there.
“This is what I came up with!” Pinkie tapped the pointer against the cannon-like thing still laying on the table. “I call it the Fabulousity Cannon!”
Rainbow could hear her own brain breaking. “The... wait... alright, what now?”
“The Fabulousity Cannon!” Pinkie lifted up the contraption and spun it on a hoof as though she were showing off a prize at a game show. “See, Rarity straps it onto her leg... nub thingy... whatever you call it. It’s way prettier than your usual prosthetic, just look at these sequins!” Rainbow was unsure how she hadn’t noticed the glitter and gems and other bright thing that covered the cannon before now. “And not only does it give her fabulousity, it gives her the ability to giveth fabulousity!"
“Yeah,” said Rainbow. “Still lost.”
“Fine... an example then.” Pinkie took a deep breath, chest expanding so far it shook the table. “Let’s say Rarity is at some formal party, and there are all these ponies with dull dresses and suits and stuff. Totally unfabulous. So what does Rarity do? Boom!” Pinkie pulled a cord on the underside of the cannon, sending gemstones hurtling across the table. “Fabulousity, rookies!”
Rainbow glanced at the wall behind her. Dents lined the wall where the gems had hit. “So, lemme get this straight, Pinkie. You want Rarity to walk around on a cannon that she can use to shoot gemstones—gemstones—at other ponies?”
Pinkie scratched the back of her mane. “Well, I have to admit it does sound better in theory than on paper. It could benefit from some changes...” Suddenly, her eyes lit up like the Manehatten skyline. “Ooooooh, what about glitter?! Streamers?! Little sparkly beads?!”
“You can run those by her next time you go over there.” Rainbow chuckled. “Though I seriously doubt Rares is gonna be up for walking around on a stinkin’ cannon.”
“It smells wonderful, I promise,” said Pinkie.
“Whatever you say.”
"Why not have her come here?”
“Huh?”
“Rarity’s been real sad lately. I would be too if I were in her horseshoes. But, I was just thinking about how you could cheer her up. I thought this cannon-leg-thingy would work, but... you’re right. I don’t think Rarity would appreciate a gem shooter as much I do. A gem vacuum, maybe, but not a cannon. How much has she been outside since they let her out of the hospital?”
“Like... once or twice, I guess,” Rainbow said, fiddling with her forehooves. “I’m usually not there a lot of the time, you know work and all that, but she did go out back one night last week to get one of her gowns off the clothesline. Heh, I’d forgotten it was out there, and it was a Saturday. Yeah, she was pretty upset at me over that. Don’t know why. It’s a friggin’ nightgown, not the robe of a princess or something.”
Pinkie tapped her chin. “Maybe if she went outside she wouldn’t get all mad and sad so easy.”
Rainbow chewed on the inside of her cheek and twisted her cup of cold coffee between her hooves. “You have a point there, Pinkie. I mean... I was really upset about my wing when I had to stay all cooped up in that hospital. Heh, both times. But, once I got out and about, I was fine. Sure, not flying sucks, but there’s nothing like fresh air and smiling faces to keep your spirits up.” The growing smile on Rainbow’s face suddenly shrunk back into a tight frown. “Still, a broken wing’s not the same as a missing leg. I can’t just go up to her and say, ‘Hey, Rare, let’s go for a walk through the park,’ you know?”
“Why can’t you?” Pinkie cocked her head to the side.
“What if something happens? What if her hip locks on her again—it’s been doing that a lot lately—or if she gets caught in a pothole or something?”
“That’s just a bunch of what-ifs, Dashie. There’s a better chance they won’t happen.”
“Since when did you become an egghead.”
“I always have been, silly. There are eggs in cookies and cakes and—”
“Alright, I get it, I get it. Fair point.” Rainbow cracked a smile. “That’s a good idea though, Pinkie. I should. Get her out of the house, I mean. That’d probably do her some good, though... huh.” The rare smile disappeared beneath a familiar frown. “Actually, I don’t know. Rares is really obsessed with her image. Getting her out of the house like this would be... well, nearly impossible.”
Pinkie shrugged. “Inside or outside, she’s still got the same number of legs. It’ll be weird at first, but no way the ponies around here would be mean or laugh at her. Unless, of course, she was making jokes at Open Mic Night, but then again Rarity’s never been much of a comedian.”
“Pinkie, for the last time, I get it,” Rainbow said. “It’s just going to be hard. Besides, with work being as hectic as it has recently, I don’t know if I could—”
It was Pinkie’s turn to frown, or rather as close as she could get to one. “You say ‘going to be hard’ as if that’s a reason to quit. What’d you do with the real Rainbow Dash, changeling scum?!” Rainbow lifted a foreleg, barely stopping Pinkie before she could attempt to pull off her face. Not a mask, Pinkie, jeez. “The real Rainbow wouldn’t let ‘hard’ get in her way!” After a few more seconds of hoof flailing, Pinkie calmed enough for Dash to put her guard down. However, that didn’t mean Pinkie shut up. Not even close.
“Am I going to have to draw a diagram? Rainbow, I know I can be a bit... me-ish from time to time, but hear me out. I’m trying to help you and Rarity. What you need to do is get her out of the Boutique. Start small, maybe a dinner or a walk or roll on the grass or something. Not a fancy place or a supercrazyfun thing. Just get her out.”
“I get that. But I have work, Pink—”
“Take some time off.”
“Pinkie, I’ve already taken enough time off as is.”
“Doesn’t seem to be enough. You look like you haven’t slept in days, and not because you’ve been up all night partying either. It’s sad tired, and that’s no good at all. You need a break.”
“Taking care of Rares ain’t exactly a break.”
Pinkie shook her head. “You still need to get your noggin away from all those rain clouds a bit. And you still need to take Rarity out somewhere for something. Why not swing by here at seven this evening?” On the other side of the room, a bell rang out. “Derpy!” she called out over her shoulder. “The usual?”
“You bet, Pink—oh, heya, Rainbow Dash!”
Rainbow waved a half-hearted hoof. “Pinkie! Seven? I hav—”
“Shh, I’m working, Dashie,” Pinkie said as she disappeared into the kitchen. As the doors swung, so did Rainbow’s mind. She had to do something; Pinke had raised points she couldn’t argue. But still, a normal Rarity was impossible to sway. A grieving Rarity would somehow transcend ‘impossible.’
Still, they said the Rainboom was impossible, and I showed them.
Rainbow’s gaze drifted to the window. The sun was now more than halfway over the horizon, its apple red light shining through the meticulously-spaced plumes of cumulus that dotted the sky. She had worked clear on the other side of town the night before, but this... this was just what the mayor had ordered. The clouds were perfectly spaced out, there didn’t seem to be any stray puddles of water on the ground nor any unneeded breeze rustling the tree branches. The weather was perfect.
When she slid out of the booth and strolled over to Derpy, it felt like she was gliding. “‘Sup, Derps. Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“I’ve been thinking, and...” Her words drifted off with one of Derpy’s eyes. Pinkie had come out of the kitchen, and placed a steaming hot croissant on the main counter. “Huh, didn’t think that was your go-to breakfast.”
“What’d you think it was?”
“Eh, that’s not important right now,” Rainbow said with a wave of her hoof. “Look, tell Thunderlane that he’s in charge for the next few days. I’m taking some time off. Have to sort through some personal matters. Just tell ‘Lane to mark me down as ‘sick.’ Heh. Wouldn’t be a lie.”
For the longest while, Derpy simply looked at Dash, blinking and mouthing... something Dash couldn’t read. Eventually, she was able to get her eyes focused, and replied, “Okay.” No sooner had the words entered the air than Rainbow wrapped a foreleg around Derpy’s neck.
“Thanks, I owe you one.” With that, she hurried towards the exit of the Corner.
“Wait, where are you going?” called Derpy, her ears drooping. “I was kinda hoping we’d have breakfast together.”
“As I said, I owe you one,” Rainbow said. “Love to chat, but I’ve got some things I really need to take care of.
“I’ll just add this to the list of IOUs, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Rainbow stopped and chuckled. “How many of those do I have now?”
One of Derpy’s eyes drifted to the ceiling, and she stuck her tongue out the corner of her mouth. “Let’s see... one, two, three... uh, seven.”
“Looks like I’ve got some catching up to do.” She wheeled around, heading for the exit, but quickly halted and spun once more. “Oh, Pinkie! Seven, right?”
“Yeppers!” Pinkie said to the already closing door.
* * *
Get some rest.
That was what Rarity told herself over and over again as she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, and that was what her mind refused to give her. Rainbow Dash had left... oh, it must have been half an hour ago, and though she had to admit she loved that loud, brute of a pegasus’ company, a little peace and quiet was more than welcome. She had hoped she could sleep the rest of the day away. That would have been nice.
At least the mattress is comfortable. Positives, Rarity, positives.
A noise echoed into her room from the hallway: a door opening and closing. First she thought it was Rainbow coming in from work, but no, this door was far too close—on the same floor, if she had to guess. She sighed and placed a hoof on her forehead. The sound of tiny hoofsteps trudging along carpet grew fainter in Rarity’s ears. For a few lovely moments, all was peaceful once more. Then the next sound hit her ears. It was like a downpour had suddenly decided to pelt her rooftop. A glance out the window disproved that immediately. Then the stench of smoke reached her nose.
“Oh for goodness’ sake, Sweetie Belle!” Tossing the covers aside, Rarity sat up in bed and twisted her hooves against her temples. When was that filly going to learn that cooking was not her destiny? Sure, I was very adamant at a young age that I was meant to be a ballerina, but this is just absurd.
Rarity called on her magic, and the leg hovered before her, blue light reflecting off the dull, white plastic. It was not even the right shade—far grayer than the rest of her coat. Just looking at the infernal thing made her head throb. Compared to the headache she had awoken with earlier that morning, this one was not that bad. At least she could use her magic with this one without gaining the sudden desire to jump out the nearest window. She placed the leg on the bed beside her, and the morning routine officially began—if a bit sped up.
She opened the top drawer of her dresser with a light of her horn, and pulled out a white sock. Like the leg, it did not match the rest of her coat, and socks were not even 'in' this fall, but it was either wear the sock or stare at scars and bald patches each time she passed a mirror. She slid the sock on, then grabbed the leg in her magic once more. It was a good fit, her stump fitting firmly enough that she often wondered if tightening the straps on the end was even necessary. Then again, she had tried exactly that one of the first nights back at the Boutique, and it had ended with her laying facedown on the carpet. Once the straps were tightened, she lowered herself off the bed and slowly made her way to the door.
Each step was another test. Would her hip lock up like it did yesterday, or would it cooperate for once? Was today the day that the so-called “knee joint” would decide to finally betray her and move far too freely? Or maybe today was one of those days when it would just hurt and feel wrong. Those were the worst.
As she opened the door, it was as if the stench of smoke smacked her in the face. She made her way downstairs as fast as she could, only tripping once on the steps, and rocketed into the kitchen, nearly knocking over the table.
Sweetie Belle looked back at her from the chair she stood on. The stove was turned on full blast, whatever Sweetie Belle had been trying to cook smoldering in a frying pan. Almost as soon as she had made eye contact with Rarity, she sighed and dumped the pan into the sink. “Sorry. I was hungry.”
Rarity frowned. “Sweetie Belle, you know the rules about using the oven.”
“I know: don’t use it without permission or supervision. But you were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“You could have just poured a bowl of cereal.”
“There isn’t any.”
“Huh. I could have sworn Rainbow picked some up a week ago.” Rarity’s eyes went wide. “Oh, that glutton.” How many times do I have to tell her?
And how many times does she have to tell you?
Rarity blinked rapidly. That had been her own, yes, but... what in the world could it possibly be referring to? What relevance did it even have? And why was it talking to her? She was her already.
Am I talking to myself talking to myself?
As she thought, she glanced at Sweetie Belle, and noticed where she was looking. Right at the leg. It took Rarity less than a second to put two and two together.
“Sweetie,” she said, taking a step forward and leaning down, “we should talk.”
For the longest while, Sweetie sat as still as a statue, save for her eyes, which darted between the leg and the floor. The silent glances repeated like a broken record, so much so that Rarity felt like she might need to give her sister a tap on the head to straighten her out. Before she could do that, Sweetie Belle spoke again.
“I have to go,” she said. She was scampering to the door before the words had fully registered with Rarity.
“Sweetie Belle, wait!” She attempted to give chase, but her leg was not built for anything more than a brisk stroll, and she had to catch herself on the table after only a couple of steps. As pushed herself up to try to chase down her sister once more, she noticed Sweetie Belle’s saddlebags still laying on one of the kitchen chairs. Picking them up, she hobbled to the closing frontdoor as quickly as she could.
“Sweetie Belle, you forgot your bag!” she called out, but the filly was already over the bridge, nearly completely obscured by the ponies making their way to work, school, or just wherever. For the tiniest of seconds, Rarity considered chasing after her. However, with a glance back at the leg, she swiped away the thought almost as soon as it had come. Groaning, she trudged back into the kitchen. Silently and listlessly, she retrieved a loaf of bread from the pantry, and levitated two slices into the toaster. A few minutes later, and they were done. A few more seconds, and they were being lazily chewed on by Rarity as she sat slumped at the kitchen table. No butter, no jelly, just dry, hard bread. It tasted like cardboard.
You have to give her credit, she is handling this far better than you probably would have. You would probably still be bawling if you were in her place.
Rarity groaned. She hated it when her mind had a point. Give her time, it said, keep trying, she’ll open up eventually so long as you keep poking, and then you can sort all this out and everything will be normal.
She glanced at the leg. Like it ever will be.
Just keep trying. It will all work out.
Rarity sighed and took a chunk out of her second piece of toast, crumbs covering her face and chest. She did not bother wiping them away. It was going to be one of those days where everything moved in slow motion and ended in explosions and tears. The crumbs were at least temporary. If she stood up, they would fall away, as if they had never been there in the first place.
If only everything were like that.
For not the first time that morning, Rarity wished that she could simply get a little sleep.
Rarity propped her foreleg against the windowsill and watched the crowd waddle past. There were not as many passersby as usual. In fact, she could probably count them out and put names to their faces if she wished. If she were more awake, she would have done just that. So much potential gossip strolling on by, oblivious to her ever-watchful gaze. They were lucky she could barely keep her eyes open. Today, they were off the hook. Tomorrow? Well they had best keep their mistresses at home, lest Rarity let word of their cheating ways reach their spouse’s ears via a loaded comment over tea.
Or rather, that was how Rarity would have let news slip in the past. Now it would probably just be her own little secret. Maybe Rainbow would hear about it over dinner one evening, or she would casually mention it to Applejack if she was over. No doubt either of those charming brutes would make sure that the next time any unfaithful pony walked by the window, they would be alone—a black eye their only company.
But for now she forced herself to forget who was together, who was smiling and chortling away, leaning close to their partner. They were lucky they could not see her. A glimpse of her glare, and they might fall dead where they stood.
Rarity levitated her teacup to her lips. It was ice cold. She grabbed the kettle in her magic and began to top off her cup, never once taking her eyes off the pathway.
Two mares bounded down the road, a green unicorn with a most unruly mane and a yellow earth pony with a... slightly less unruly mane. At least she seemed to have attempted to turn it into something presentable, Rarity had to give her credit there. Rarity had seen them before in passing, amongst the crowds at the marketplace or at a booth on the other side of a restaurant, but their names escaped her.
I think I even talked to that yellow one once. Why did I not get her name?
The unicorn was definitely the peppy one of the two, seeming to skip more than step and constantly touching her partner—mane tussling, rump bumping, the works. If a sloppy make out session had broken out at that moment, Rarity would not have been surprised.
A part of her shivered at such lewd displays of affections, but an even bigger part envied them. Her gaze began to move away from the lovers, down and to the right, but she forced it back up. I know, she thought, emptying her cup in one swig. Believe me, I have not forgotten.
She closed her eyes and thought about what it would be like, walking down mainstreet with Rainbow Dash. They would walk close, flanks brushing against each other no doubt. Maybe Rainbow would drape a wing over her back. There would be joking and laughing and smiles, but, knowing Rainbow—and herself—there would also be a bit of bickering. For some reason, Rarity pictured herself covered in mud, yelling at a guffawing Rainbow Dash. It would all be breaking apart, but then...
The moon hung high in the sky, not even a sliver of cloud blocking its full form. Not that Rarity could tell. Her eyes were shut tight. Rainbow’s warm breath tickled the back of her neck. The tip of a feather stroked down her back, lower and lower. Rarity shivered, yet if anything she swore she was about to catch fire. Rainbow’s breaths were caressing her ears now. She whispered something, but it came out as a hot, garbled mess. Rarity giggled. Out of all the times to speak, why now? Rainbow repeated the same string of gibberish. This time, Rarity groaned. Was it really that hard to form words? She opened her eyes and...
The street stood barren. The galavanting couple had moved on down the road—their careless laughs still ringing in muffled bursts through the kitchen window—leaving Rarity to sit and sigh all by herself.
Her teacup was empty. For the rest of the morning it would stay that way. There were certain things tea could not warm. Certain fires were only lit by a flash of creativity.
It was time to make a dress.
* * *
Hours later, Rarity’s vision was filled with white. White paper, untouched by pen; white cutting table, devoid of scraps or fabric; white forehooves, not even the tiniest string of thread breaking their immaculateness. She was usually all for cleanliness, but not in her workshop. No, the workshop was for making dresses, and she had come to learn that there was no clean way to make a proper dress. A good dress would leave in its wake countless scraps, rolls of fabric tossed aside after a more dazzling kind had been discovered, and even a few broken clothespins from the inevitable frustration.
There was no mess. There was neither a finished product to take her breath away, nor some atrocity for her to scold and call “horrid” and toss aside for scrap. There were only a few crumpled up sheets of paper and a low groan droning through Rarity’s clenched teeth.
Making a dress: easier said than done. She had tried every day since she had gotten home, and every day inspiration had kicked her in the teeth and fled. Somedays, it was because of a headache or phantom pains. Others, it was all a matter of her psyche going off the rails. One day in particular stood out: she had zoned out only to come to holding one of her mannequins, sobbing all over a half-finished absolutely dreadful black gown. In a way, she was glad she had zoned out; she doubted she wanted to know what that road had been like.
Days like today were the worst, however. She was far from a wreck. No pains shot through her head, nor up through her hip. No phantoms either; she was quite aware what was missing. It was all a lack of inspiration, like trying to strike a soaked match. She wanted nothing more than to simply be able to sit down and create something.
A faint sound graced Rarity’s ears. She glanced down to see Opalescence nuzzling her fake leg, purring as attention seeking cats often do. “Oh, Opal,” Rarity whispered, reaching down and picking up the pampered feline in her forelegs, "how long have you been down there?”
Opalescence’s expression was that of a unicorn who had just been asked if they had a horn. Then again, her face was always set in that look. Not bothering to wait to see if Opalescence had gained the ability to speak and answer her question overnight, Rarity looked over at the clock on the other side of the room. Two hands up. Noon.
“Oh dear,” she gasped, Opalescence falling onto her lap as her hooves shot over her mouth. Not only had she forgotten about Opal’s seven o’clock breakfast and nine-thirty brunch, but her eleven-thirty lunch as well. How could she have been so thoughtless?
Well, let’s not dwell on past mistakes. A noon lunch is still lunch. Opalescence had already hopped down from her lap, and was occupied with cleaning herself off. Rarity stared at the blank sheet of paper sitting in front of her with absolute disgust. Nothing was coming to her up there, save for a growing mountain of paper balls. Maybe inspiration would strike her on the way to the kitchen. It seemed like a silly idea, that feeding her cat would somehow be the spark she needed, but like all artists, her muse was a fickle thing.
“Come, Opal,” she said, turning away from the annoyingly clean table with her nose pointed upward. The walk to the door was uneventful, much to Rarity’s relief. Opalescence followed close behind her without a single hiss, yowl, or surprise assault on one of the many baskets of yarn.
Once they were out of the room, Rarity allowed herself to sag, but only a little. To a normal pony, she would still look regal as ever. To her she might as well have been completely slouched, chin dragging the floor and all. She looked over her shoulder at Opalescence, and sighed.
“You poor dear, you must be absolutely famished.” Opalescence continued sauntering, chin held high as always. “I don’t blame you for being mad at me,” Rarity continued, “I shouldn’t be letting you go to waste like this.” Rarity’s eyes began to water, and Opalescence pranced on oblivious as ever. “Your bow’s loose. What kind of owner am I?” A single meow. “Yes, I know, I do need to do better.” The rest of the walk to the kitchen was a silent one, broken only by three distinct sets of steps.
Rarity was pleased to find that an entire cupboard filled to the doors with cat food was still waiting for her. She had forgotten to put ‘cat food’ on her grocery list, and she had no doubt that Rainbow Dash would not have thought to pick it up on her own. She was lucky she had saved up so many cans over time. Buying in bulk was a bit odd for a single cat, sure, but Rarity was the kind of pony to think ahead. There was no way of telling when some disaster could hit and leave all the grocery stores in Equestria without cat food.
Her horn lit up, and a sparkling silver can hovered out. “Tuna,” she said, smiling down at Opalescence, “your favorite.” If Opalescence was excited, she did not even hint at it. Rarity chose to ignore the feline’s lack of enthusiasm, and combined her extraction of the can opener from the silverware drawer with a drizzle of oohs and ahhs. Opalescence licked her paw and purred, not even glancing up at the attempted spectacle.
The sound of the can opener biting into the lid was matched only by the distinctive thump of hoof on wood. Rarity paused, standing as still as a statue. Another knock told her that she had not snapped; there really was somebody at the door. Blowing out a stream of hot air, she placed the can on the table and peeked out the closest window. If she twisted her neck at just the right angle, she could catch a glimpse of pink tail twitching in the breeze.
She sighed. It could be some door-to-door salespony, but it could just as easily be a friend of hers. Too many ponies had pink tails nowadays. For a second, she considered acting as though she was not home at all, but quickly swept the thought away. That would be nothing short of rude. She had a laundry list of things she simply could not tolerate, and rudeness sat high atop the list—bolded and underlined.
“Who is it?” she said, standing off to the side of the door, as if that were some sort of safety net.
“Rarity? It’s Cheerilee.” Of course. How could she have not noticed? The sun must have been playing tricks on her; she surely would have recognized that combination of light and dark pink if it hadn’t.
“Cheerilee? What... it’s only noon. Forgive me for being rude, but shouldn’t you be at the schoolhouse?”
A laugh rang through the door. “Oh, haha, it’s recess. I needed to get something from here, so I had Big Macintosh hold the fort while I get it.”
Rarity’s brow furrowed. “Big Macintosh?”
“Oh, he’s volunteered to do some landscaping around the building.”
“I see,” Rarity said, tapping a forehoof on the floor. “What do you need from me?”
“Sweetie Belle had a report due today, but when I came around to collect them she didn’t have one. Once she calmed down—poor dear’s seemed so upset lately—she told me she had finished it, but had left in a rush this morning and forgotten her saddlebag.”
“Ah, yes,” said Rarity, lips twisting downward. “She did.” She looked to the table, to the small bag still sitting on the same chair she had left it. “I assume that is why you are here?” she continued.
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Cheerilee said, a hearty giggle snaking through the words. If there had been a joke there, it sailed right over Rarity’s head.
“I see...” The words drifted off, a heavy pause following in their wake. The seconds flowed like hours, yet Rarity could not quite put a hoof on why. At first, she thought she was pondering something, but it soon hit her that she was just staring off into space. Buying time. Hiding. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she looked at the door, then down at the leg in all its revoltingly plastic glory. Her eyes would have lingered there for several moments more if not for the loud cough on the other side of the door.
“Oh, terribly sorry,” Rarity stammered. “Let me get that for you.” She took a single step toward the kitchen before rolling her eyes and taking the bag in her magic. As it hovered over to her, she thanked her lucky stars that the bag had not been open or upside-down. Celestia knows what horrors could fall out of it and ruin her beautiful rug. “Here it is!” she chimed.
“Great.” The silence that followed was palpable. “Um, could you give it to me?”
“Huh?” All of a sudden, the very act of thinking seemed a most foreign one to Rarity. Open the door? “Uh, yes, of course! Heh heh, let me just...” Had there not been a carpet there to soften their blows, her hooves would have sounded like thunder, tapping away as the gears in her head whirred.
So many ways to go about this. So much that could go wrong.
It happened in a flash. “Watch your head,” Rarity called as she pushed the top half of the front door open. She levitated the bag through the opening, dropped it, and closed the door back before Cheerilee could even gasp.
No more words were said. A few seconds after the door closed, Cheerilee walked off. Rarity checked out the window. She was already across the bridge. It looked like she was about to glance back at the Boutique, but Rarity let the curtain fall back into place, and retreated before Cheerilee could fully turn.
The walk back to the kitchen was a slow and quiet one. Rarity grabbed the cat food can in a telekinesis spell, but quickly dropped it into a waiting forehoof. The magic just was not with her. She closed her eyes, concentrating so hard the veins in her neck started to stick out, but was only able to get the can opener working at a snail’s pace. Her head throbbed, her felt as though the sun had settled on its tip, and still she was losing the battle.
Needless to say, it was the worst possible time for the door to fly open.
“Oh for crying out loud, can’t somepony feed her cat around here?!” Rarity threw the can onto the table. Whatever poor soul was on the receiving end of her wrath muttered something—more like a squeak than an actual word—but she cut them off before they could continue. “And have you not heard of knocking? It’s common courtesy! Not to mention the sign clearly stating ‘Closed’ on the front window. Honestly, just who do you think you are?”
“Uh... me.”
“Huh?” She wheeled around. Standing just inside the door was Rainbow Dash, lively eyes, mischievous smirk and all. Of course it would be Rainbow; everybody else had the decency to knock first. If ever there came a day where Rainbow displayed some respect and actually asked permission to enter before barging in, Rarity would know the world was ending. Not today though.
“Sorry for being so rude, Rainbow Dash,” she said, lifting a forehoof and wiping a strand of mane out of her eyes. Her mane just was not curling like it used to, and she had to admit it was chewing at her nerves. She brushed the thought aside. The day’s anger quota had been met and surpassed. No use crying over loose strands. “It has not been the most pleasant of days.”
“Yeah, I can tell.” Rainbow took a step forward, but stopped almost immediately. She leaned against the doorframe, and pulled an apple out from behind her unbandaged wing, taking a large bite out of it. “Saw Cheerilee walk by on my way here lookin’ all kinds of confused. What’d ya do to her?” Bits of apple rained from Rainbow’s mouth. Rarity backed away, bumping into the table and doing her best to fall into a chair as gracefully as possible.
“For goodness’ sake, Rainbow, don’t speak with your mouth full,” she said, wiping her face. Luckily, she had dodged the onslaught of half-chewed fruit. Pleased that she had avoided such a disaster, Rarity was able to continue. “Sweetie Belle forgot her saddlebag when she left this morning, and Cheerilee was retrieving it for her.”
Rainbow cocked her head to the side. “Why didn’t Sweetie come back and get it?”
“Rainbow,” Rarity chuckled, taking the cat food can in her magic once more and twisting it this way and that. It was still not even half open. If her headache had anything to say in the matter, it would stay that way. She dropped the can back on the table and turned her attention back to Rainbow. “It is well-past noon. She’s in school. She can’t just gallivant away from the schoolyard midway through the day to get her bags.”
Rainbow groaned and buried her face in a hoof. “No, I meant, why didn’t she come back here? Kinda hard to get far before you realize you’ve forgotten your saddlebags.”
“Well,” Rarity mumbled, “she did leave in quite a hurry this morning.” All of a sudden, her hooves were the most interesting things in the world, and she could not stop playing with them. Bumping them against each other, rubbing them together, doing anything but looking at Rainbow.
“Why, did she get up late?”
“No, she was up before me, actually.” Rarity sighed. The street outside her kitchen window was dead. She crossed it off her list of potential distractions. There were no other options; she had to spit it out. “I did what you said I should do, and, um, tried to talk, and... let’s just say that did not go as planned.”
The sigh that poured from Rainbow’s lips was better fit for a parent finding out their foal had failed a test. “Well... at least you tried.”
“Did you expect me not to?”
“No, I did. I just, well I mean... ugh, never mind.” Rainbow finished off her apple in two bites, tossing the core into the nearest trash bin—clear on the other side of the room. It was a perfect shot: no rim, all bag. “Anyway,” she said, stepping into the kitchen, and sitting down in a chair next to Rarity, “I’ve got a proposition for you.”
“Go on.”
“This is going to sound crazy, but hear me out here.” Rainbow sat back. She blew at the air and drummed on her chair, but still no words came. “Alright, here goes,” she said after what felt like an eternity had passed. “I went around and talked to some friends to get this all set up, and, well, I’m taking you on a date. Tonight.”
Rarity’s eyes shrunk. “A d-d-d... a d-d-d-d...” Words were beyond her at that moment, as was thinking. Did she hear that correctly?
“Applejack’s gonna keep an eye on Sweetie Belle. I guess. Knowing her, she probably meant let Sweetie, Scoots and Apple Bloom have a sleepover and hope they don’t burn anything down.” Rainbow chuckled. “But yeah, got everything planned. Seven o’clock. I know, heh heh, never expected me to be the one to go for the stupid, cheesy dating junk, eh?”
If there had been actual gears in Rarity’s head, they would have melted away by now. It was a miracle she did not have smoke billowing from her ears. Rainbow Dash... date... tonight... date. She was going to go on a date with Rainbow. A date. Their first date.
It took her a good five seconds to realize that the sudden high-pitched squealing was her own. Finally, their first date. Oh, it had been so long since she had enjoyed a romantic night out. In fact, now that she thought about it, it had over a year since her last date. A year. And that had not been a good one. Not even remotely.
Rarity shuddered at the thought of that stallion’s polka-dotted sweater vest. He had seemed so knowledgeable of aesthetics when they had first met. How wrong she had been. To complete the icing on the disappointment cake, he had spent the whole dinner dropping entendres he probably thought were humorous and subtle.
Subtle as a skyscraper falling on your head, and about as funny.
She emerged to from her reverie to find her forelegs wrapped around Rainbow’s neck. She gave a small chortle as she let go of her ensnared lover, and sat back down in her chair, unable to keep her forehooves still.
A date. Visionsof Rainbow, her face illuminated by candlelight, flickering flame reflecting off her soft and alluring eyes, the sound of a harp playing somewhere in the background. They would toast with glasses of the finest wine, and spend the evening lost in each other’s presence.
“So... you’re okay with it?” Once again, Rainbow reeled Rarity back into reality.
“Of course!” Rarity’s grin could have blinded the eyeless. It was, however, short lived. Something about Rainbow’s behavior seemed off. From her wide eyes to slightly tilted head, she seemed genuinely surprised that Rarity was fine with going on a date. Does she even know me? Rarity shook the thought away. Such unruly questions had a time and place, and now was neither. She had no idea how Rainbow’s day had gone. For all she knew Rainbow was not reacting to her at all.
“Okay, I—” A loud gasp cut her off. Rarity was suddenly against her face—literally nose to nose—pupils as big as dinner plates.
“Did you say seven?”
“Uh... yeah.”
“Oh my goodness, there may not be enough time!” She jerked away from Rainbow, eyes boring a hole into the clock. “Oh no, it’s nearly twelve thirty. No, no, no, that’s hardly enough time at all!”
“Jeez, Rares, when did you turn into Twil—”
“This is not a joke, Rainbow Dash! Getting properly prepared for a date takes time. There’s picking out a dress”—she thrust out a forehoof and began counting on it, enunciating each item with a loud tap—“doing proper alterations, taking a bath—including using the proper conditioners and making sure you use them correctly. Then of course there’s the make-up, mane styling, picking out what jewelry you should wear. Oh, and let’s not forget actually putting your dress on! Proper adjustments alone take at least an hour.”
Rainbow raised a forehoof. “Rare, you really need to chill. It’s just a date.”
“I’m going to pretend I did not just hear that.” Rarity’s blood boiled. What a daft... She canceled out the thought with a bite of her lip and loud hum. Culture takes time, she reminded herself. She would prefer it to move faster, however. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get prepared.” With that Rarity turned her nose skyward, and marched down the hall.
* * *
In one of Carousel Boutique’s many walk-in closets, a thunder roared. A thunder that sounded an awful lot like the clanking of clothes hangers and the grumblings of a mare of fashion.
One by one, Rarity went through some of her best dresses. Winning the title of “Rarity’s Date Dress” was one of the most difficult accomplishments for any dress to earn, and thus far not one had come close to claiming the crown.
“Too formal. Too casual. Too flashy. Too dull. Too... carrot-y.”
She had gone through four different meter-length racks, and not one was even remotely appropriate. In the past, she had made so many fine frocks. They had brought in a fortune. For once, she was regretting those transactions.
“Too flat. Too...” Her eyes settled on a pink dress. While most of it was a dark shade of pink, it had light pink stripes running down its back. She ran hoof from its frilly collar, all the way down to the end of its train. Though far from what had been hoping to find, it was quite a creation. With the right work to her hairstyle, tastefully applied makeup, and a proper necklace, she had no doubt that it would work wonderfully.
Smiling to herself, she took the dress in her magic and sauntered to the mirror. She draped the dress over her back, studying it carefully. As expected, it matched her coat perfectly. Her grin winded as she turned. Just from looking at it, she could tell it would really show off her body. She smiled up until the cycle was nearly completed, then it evaporated in the blink of an eye.
The leg. The fact that she had managed to forget about it for even a second both amazed and sickened her. It stuck out clear as day, a gratuitous slab of plastic, gripping on to what could barely be considered a thigh anymore, acting as though it belonged. Above it, scars and bald spots. Even her cutie mark, now only two diamonds strong, had not been spared.
There was no way she could go out like that.
Though maybe...
Closing her eyes and counting to ten, Rarity put the dress on properly, and began to walk back and forth in front of the mirror, stopping every other pass to strike a pose she considered routine to her—a lifted foreleg here, a tilted head and half-lidded gaze there. She had hoped beyond hope that maybe, just maybe, the train would cover the leg up, but each step filled Rarity’s vision with plastic, each movement brought with it a most unnatural clack.
She sighed, gracelessly pulled the dress off, tossed it into the corner, fell back onto her haunches, and leaned against one of her many mannequins. The desire to scream built up in her stomach, but came out as simple quivering breaths. It was quiet in that room. Heavy too. Her eyes stayed set on the mirror, unfocused.
“Rarity?” The voice was muffled, faint. Before Rarity could even fully comprehend that she had, in fact, heard someone calling her name, the door flew open, knocking over a couple of unfortunate mannequins and a few rolls of fabric. Rainbow rushed in soon after. Even without the use of both wings, she was a quick pony, and was at Rarity’s side in a heartbeat.
“I heard you fall. You okay?”
“I didn’t fall, I’m fine, I’m fine,” Rarity mumbled, pushing Rainbow’s foreleg away before it could be placed on her shoulder. Must have sat down heavier than I thought. Her eyes darted from Rainbow, to the mirror, to the dress tossed aside, to the leg. She groaned and shook her head. “What a roller coaster of a day it’s been.” She glanced back up at Rainbow, only to find her staring at the window, biting her lip. Slowly, she rose to her hooves and shuffled over to the dress. She picked it up, looked at it for a few moments, then turned back to Rarity.
“This is a nice dress,” she said. “I like it.”
Rarity couldn’t help but smile at that. “That’s a statement I never thought I'd hear you make.”
Rainbow snorted, but grinned as well. “Yeah, yeah, hammer it in.” She sighed and lifted it up again. “I mean it though. I really do like it.”
“It’s a miracle. I’ve made a dress cool enough for the infamous Rainbow Dash.”
“Hey now, I wouldn’t go that far.”
Silence fell between the two mares once more. Rarity straightened herself into a more dignified position, but remained seated. Rainbow, meanwhile, stood in the middle of the room, gaze drifting from the dress, to the window, to Rarity, and then back again. After what felt like hours spent in limbo, Rainbow draped the dress over a mannequin, and sat down beside Rarity.
“Rare, I know this”—she nodded toward Rarity’s prosthetic leg—“sucks, and I know being seen is probably the last thing you want right now, but... Rarity, you haven’t been outside of the Boutique in, like, two months."
"I did go outside last week."
"Yeah, for a second. You've only been out once or twice at, like, two in the morning in the last two months. That can’t be good for you. You need to get out.” Rarity opened her mouth to retort, but Rainbow cut her off with a wing over the mouth. “We’re gonna take this slow, I promise. This ain’t some crowded, fancy joint I’m taking you to, it’s Sugarcube Corner. Not exactly frou frou pony central, but... well, if there’s anyplace you’d feel comfortable besides here, it’s there. We can avoid the main roads. Hay, I walked from here to Sugarcube Corner around seven a few weeks ago, and I didn’t bump into a single thing on my way there—not even a friggin’ bird. Only ponies you gotta worry about seeing there are Pinkie, and maybe the Cakes. Pinkie already knows, and the Cakes are just about the nicest ponies in town, so you’ve got nothing to worry about there.”
Rarity sighed. “I appreciate it, Rainbow, but—”
“Nope. Cutting you off there. You need this, Rarity. Might not seem like it now, but trust me.”
“I don't... this seems a bit too fast.”
“Rare, I know the whole ‘run before you can walk’ thing, but you ain’t gonna learn to walk if you don’t take a step! I mean, do you plan on staying locked up in here forever?”
“Well, no. I mean, I did plan on going outside eventually. Someday. Maybe.”
“Then it’s time to stop putting it off.” With that, Rainbow stood up, and started toward the door... only to whirl around and pull Rarity into a kiss. She came up for air with a smirk shining on her face. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. And if it’s not... well, we’ll have fun tonight, one way or another.” Rarity’s cheeks burned, and Rainbow’s smirk widened into a sly grin. “Thought you’d like the sound of that.” Rainbow turned again, and waltzed out the door, shooting one last sultry glance before disappearing down the hall.
Once again, Rarity was alone. She rose to her hooves, and took the dress in her magic. It was a bit too late to add some length to the train. Maybe some ritzy socks or stockings? No, they would not cover it all, and did absolutely nothing to hide the sound. Oh, this won't work at all. She ran a hoof through her drooping mane. It just was not going to work. Rainbow had a good idea, but it was just that: a good idea. An unsteady rhythm rang out as she drummed a hoof on the floor. She could probably find a way to get out of all of it: faking sick or simply locking herself into her workroom—it would not be the first time.
No. She shook her head. Rainbow’s right. I need to do this. I can handle this.
A voice in the back of her head tried to protest, but Rarity shrugged it off and strode to the bathroom. It tried to complain again, but she drowned it out with a dunk underneath the warm bathwater. For a long while, she stayed in the bath, staring at the ceiling and letting it all soak in. By the time she unplugged the drain, a faint smile tugged at her lips.
