//------------------------------// // 5 - Wicked Desire // Story: Rarity Reads a Trashy Romance Novel // by vamparity //------------------------------// Wicked Strike rattled the chains around her hooves, testing their hold on her. The massive pony before her made to speak, but she rattled her chains again, drowning out his voice. With a smug grin, Wicked Strike asked, "Do ya really think I care to hear another monologue from you today?" Solemno sat himself on the throne. He rubbed his chin with one hoof, rubbing the ball of the throne's armrest with the other. Through a purple haze around his eyes, he looked past Wicked, down the towering hall of bricks and banners bearing Prince Glistening Sword's cutie crest. He listened to his soldiers as they dragged the remains of the night's battle out of the castle. "You do not seem to understand the position you are in," He boomed, turning an ear to hear it reverb down the giant hall. Satisfied, he continued in the same voice, "This is mine, now." "Until I run a sword through you." "Even in such a predicament, Wicked Strike's tongue thinks itself bold." Solemno sighed. "This is your last chance." "Like I said: I aint doing nothing for you, not without a sword." "Pity," the massive pony tapped his hoof. "You think you have a choice." He stood up, using magic to adjust his cape and tighten his armor out of idle habit. "This is your last chance to do something for me, and you shall. You will take credit for killing Glistening Sword." "Like hay I will! He was my friend," Wicked Strike raised an accusing hoof, the chains no longer making any sound, "And I promised him I'd put a stick in ya and call ya dead." "Spare me, Wicked. Such a name your parents gave you. Fitting, really." Solemno leered at her, smacking his lips. "Fair Desire, though, now that is a pretty name, don't you think?" Wicked Strike lunged at Solemno, but was stopped in his dark magical aura. "Now, now, Wicked, let's not be savages about this. I could snap your body in half if I was so inclined. And if you don't do what I tell you to, Fair Desire could find herself faced with the same problem." Wicked Strike was let go from his magic and she fell to the ground in defeat. "What do you want of me?" "I want you to take credit for killing Prince Sword. You will tell nopony it was me. You will allow yourself to be arrested by the guards and you will be thrown in jail. They will hold a trial where you will plead guilty. And," Solemno laughed, turning an amused ear to hear it echo down the hall, "You will be executed for your crime." "And Fair Desire?" "I will not lay a hoof on her, or even an eye. She will be of no concern to me. You have my word." "That don't mean much." "I'm afraid it's all you have, you sorry sack of a mare." The only thought in Wicked Strike's mind during the events that followed was of Fair Desire's safety. That, and the sad realization that she would hate her for this, never knowing she was the reason she was doing it. But such was their relationship, she thought, a series of good deeds and love that Desire hardly noticed, done in secret faith. How can one be a martyr if nopony knows their sacrifice? --- Rarity closed the book and floated it atop a stack of other books hidden behind clothes in a closet. She could not finish it. She could not trust it. It lied to her about what it was, and it was very likely that it would break genre expectations and destroy her with its ending. She wanted to punch something. She wanted to scream. Looking past a curtain, it was dark outside. She slid off her bed onto her equally cozy carpet. She paced around the room, thinking about the book. It was a liar. It was awful and it was not worth her time. It knew the formula and played with it as if it had the right. Perhaps to shock its audience and sell more copies, she found herself nodding her head. The lowest point where everything goes wrong was supposed to happen before the final act, not during it. They were supposed to have a chance to recover and try again. She placed her hooves shoulder-length apart into a practiced stance. She controlled her breathing, enlarging it. There was supposed to be a happy ending! She punched the air, repeatedly, with controlled strikes and without mercy. After a sweat had formed on her brow, and after many grunts from the workout, she laid on the floor, looking up at her ceiling, following the various lines and curves of its trim and woodwork. Through her labored breaths, she found her thoughts too large to keep in her head, softly speaking them aloud, "This wasn't how it was supposed to be." She closed her eyes and thought long and hard, pulling a small thought out from the depths of her mind, "All I wanted was somepony special. Not her," she choked back something in her throat. "You're such a drama queen. How did it come to this? Is this really what you want?" She gave a small laugh. "Maybe she was right. Maybe those books are bad for me." She lifted herself up. "Why does she have to be so good, and make me be so bad," she almost purred the words in amusement. With a silly thought, she looked into the mirror. A mare with a ghostly luster stared back at her. Her hair was damp and out of place, making her look like a completely different pony. "I will be the rogue this time." She pulled her hair over one eye. "And she will be my wicked desire." She shared a nod with her reflection and the pact was sealed. Tucking herself back into bed, she brought the book back from the closet, and flipped the pages to a section she remembered taking place somewhere in the middle. It was the part where they had escaped the prison and found lodging at an inn on the outskirts of the kingdom. It was there that Fair Desire had made her move after realizing her feelings, much to Wicked Strike's horror and later pleasure. Fair Desire took the lead and took her mare that night. Rarity hummed devilishly. She read the section again, lowering herself deeper into hot satin sheets, a warmth touching her that the sun could only dream of giving.