//------------------------------//
// XI-XIII 
// Story: The Last Train Home 
// by Monochromatic 
//------------------------------//



XI.	Little Gestures


 
I didn’t say anything at first.

It didn’t feel like I needed to. Or, really, if I must be honest with you, if only because you are now mine, I didn’t want to tell you. Partly because I still was unsure of the entire thing, still didn’t quite know how to act, but also because there was a...a…

There was a secret little thrill to be had at having the upper hoof and using it to my full advantage.

It’s true, there is something exciting about being on the receiving end of somepony’s affections, of their gifts and gestures. It was something I enjoyed in my past relationships, but I don’t believe it was until you that I truly lived and breathed my element.

I don’t believe I’ve ever showered somepony with more subtle attention than I did you the first few days after ‘I knew’. You’d done so much for me, it felt imperative I do the same for you. I was flattered, enchanted by your feelings, so I wanted to make you happy with something I knew would not fail—myself.

Reading to you was only the start, my love.
 
 
 
 
I made my way towards the library, a silly smile plastered on my face. I’d finished a dress early, and though I still had a few more to go, I allowed myself a small break if only to go and take a moment for you. It is vital to note that lunchtime was only thirty minutes away.

Yes, you will see why in a minute.

I reached the large oak doors and quickly adjusted my mane in the reflection of a nearby suit of armor. Once I was satisfied with my fabulosity—yes, that is a word— I trotted to the door, took a deep breath, and then gently opened it.

I peered inside, and a devious smile swept over my face when I saw you there, your face hidden between pages of books as per the norm. Silly books! They stood nary a chance when confronted with me, did they?

“Twilight?” I called, making a show of timidly peeking in from behind the door.

The book came down, and you turned to me with pleasant surprise. “Oh! Rarity!”

“Oh, Twilight!” I replied, walking into the room much like a timid mare might when interrupting on royalty. “Darling, are you busy? I certainly don’t want to interrupt your studies. I can come at a later time, if it’s more convenient for you.”

“Oh, that’s all right, Rarity! You’re not interrupting.”

We were both, of course, lying through our teeth.

“Oh, wonderful!” I exclaimed, clapping my hooves against the ground. “I shall proceed.”

I closed the door behind me, then making my way to you and sitting right next to you. And I do mean right next to you.

I noticed a glass of milk and a plate of half-eaten cookies by the books.

“Ah! I see Nutmeg Crumb kept her promise!” I exclaimed. “Splendid.”

“What? How did you—”

I grinned. “Oh, I asked her to bring you some sweets! I went to the kitchens for a light snack earlier, and I know how absorbed you get by your studies, I had her promise me she would bring you a little something. I gather you approved of her choice?”

“I did,” you replied, a silly smile on your lips. “Very much.”

“What are you working on, by the by?” I asked curiously, peering at whatever it was you were reading. I didn’t actually care, and—Darling, why are you offended? I didn’t care because you were too distracting, obviously! How could you ever doubt me? Me, who loves you! Me, who adores you! Me, who could never leave you even if I tried, and who will spend the rest of their life with you, until the da—

All right, all right! I’m getting back to it.

Where was I?

Oh, yes.

“What are you working on?” I curiously asked, peering at whatever it was you were reading. I was otherwise distracted by your beauty to truly care, but it was important to show interest in your interests.

“Princess Celestia asked me to research the effects of Magic Thermodynamics and their uses in ancient Equestria,” you said, taking a nearby scroll and showing it to me. Before I could start to read it, however, you moved it away and stared at me expectantly. “Anyway, what do you need help with?”

“Help?” I accused, again blinking my eyes innocently, raising my hoof and pressing it to my chest. “Goodness, I don’t need help with anything.”

You faltered, cocking your head to the side, eyes flicking from one side to the other. “You don’t…?”

I smiled brilliantly, if I do say so myself. Which I do. I say so. “Oh, no, no! I didn’t come here because I needed something.” I hummed, frowning lightly. “Or, you know what? I did need something, you’re right.”

“Really? What is it?” you asked, ready to assist me with whatever ailed me.

“I needed you,” I replied simply. “To see you, I mean. And here you are! Life’s dilemmas truly aren’t as complex as one thinks they are.”

Your face turned the loveliest shade of pale red. “You needed to see me? Why?” you asked, as if your silly little brain couldn’t comprehend that I wanted to see you without some sort of ulterior motive. “Lunch is in thirty minutes. You were going to see me then.”

“Yes. And? This way, I get to see you right now and in thirty minutes! Yes, it’s true, I could have stayed back at my workshop, but considering I had a little free time, why shouldn’t I come say hello to my dearest friend, hmm? So, here I am!” I fluttered my eyelashes. “Hello, my darling.”

Twilight Sparkle, I swear to the stars, I will never again be graced with a giggle as smitten as the one you offered in that moment.

“Hi, Rarity,” you said, looking as delighted by me as I was by you. “Thank you for stopping by to visit me.”

“It was your pleasure and my honor, Twilight,” I replied, lifting my hoof and brushing back your bangs. “And now, I’ve bothered you enough.” I stepped away and headed back towards the door. “Ta-ta! See you for lunch!”

“That was fast,” you called back. “You didn’t even stay five minutes!”

I looked over my shoulder. “Now, now, my dear! You know what they say about perfect things, after all!”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s that?”

I winked at you. “Why, that they’re a rarity, of course.”
 
 
 


XII.	Sharp Silk's Challenge




I did say that! I can’t believe you’d accuse me of embellishing the facts! What? No, this is not fact-checking, this is your lacking memory, Missy! Why, yes, I do have perfect memory, thank you very much! As I said so long ago, perfect things are a me, are they not?

I don’t care how much you groan at me, I still think I’m hysterical.

Honestly, my wit is so unappreciated.

In any case...

The sunny—yes, even the weather I remember! Now, hush you!—

Now I’ve forgotten where I was going with that sentence.

It was a sunny day in Canterlot’s streets, for every day with you was a sunny one. So really, in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t really matter if I remember what the weather was actually like or not because you defined the weather for me. How’s that for perfect memory.

“Those were the longest thirty minutes of my entire life, I tell you!”

“Really?” you asked, clearly pleased by my statement. Emboldened by it, even, as you had the courage to smugly declare, “You really did want to see me very badly, then.”

“Hm? Oh, sweetheart, don’t flatter yourself! That’s more my area of expertise. I was just famished is all,” I said with a giggle and a tap of your scrunched up nose.

“Right.”

Now, now, didn’t want you to be too full of yourself now, did we?  But alas! You looked so cute, upset by my statement, I simply had to make it better.

“And I was a teensy bit excited to see you, I’ll admit,” I said, and I couldn’t help a grin when you rolled your eyes. “See! This is why it’s good you’re not perfect like me. If you were, then I wouldn’t be able to spend so much time with you. Too much perfection can be a bad thing, you know?”

“Because perfect things should be rarities,” you said matter-of-factly.

“Precisely! Best take them in small doses.”

You hummed. “There is a problem with that, though.”

“Is there now? Pray tell.”

“Well,” you said, starting to circle me much like you do when about to lecture me or be terribly smart or both. I’ll admit it’s quite attractive. “Going by your statements, which are that perfect things are rare, and you are perfect—”

“Do you contest it?” I asked cheekily and was surprised when you did not blush as I had expected, but simply smiled.

“I don’t have to, because you will in a minute,” you said coolly, and I will admit my heart skipped a beat.

“As I was saying,” you continued, still circling me like I might do my ponnyquins, “you’ve presented two statements: that perfect things should be rarities, and that you are perfect. Following that logic, you can spend time with me because I, as previously stated, am imperfect, right? Right. But then, if that’s true, then I can’t spend time with you because perfect things should be taken in small doses! So...”

You giggled and leaned in ever so close.

“The question is: are you perfect, Rarity? Because if you are, I guess we should go our separate ways, then.”

I paused.

“Well played, Twilight,” I said. “Well played.”

“Thank you.” You trotted off, looking much smugger than you deserved to be. “Come on! I want to take you to The Sunswept Café; it’ll be packed if we don’t hurry!”

We made our way towards the restaurant, and stars above, it was like nothing else existed but you. You held me completely in your hoof, and you hadn’t an inkling, Twilight! Not the faintest idea! You talked and talked, and I listened with rapt attention.

Granted, I don’t remember what we talked about, but I remember the desire to listen to you, to shower you with my attention if only because I knew you sought it.

In fact, I was so taken by you, I didn’t even notice somepony calling me until you noticed and stopped talking.

“Rarity! Rarity!” 

I turned around, surprised to find Tinsel River flagging me down all the way from the table she was sitting at. Two ponies were beside her; two ponies that, as we both know, would play a role in our story.

Twilight Sparkle, what a scowl! I’d scold you for holding a grudge after so ridiculously long, but I don’t blame you. I don’t think I’m over it either.

“Who’s that?” you asked, and I gasped at your ignorance.

“That’s Tinsel River,” I hurriedly whispered as we walked towards them. “The pegasus beside her is Lace Ribbon. She’s only one of Canterlot’s most prominent upcoming young designers. And the older unicorn next to her is Sharp Silk. He’s one of Equestria’s oldest and famous designers. He’s a bit old-fashioned, I find, but he holds power. Lots of it.”

I affixed a smile on my face and waved back.

"River, darling!" I greeted. "Fancy running into you here, and with fabulous company, too!"

River smiled graciously and turned to her companions. "Lace, Sharp, this is—"

"Rarity," Sharp Silk said in that damnably contemptuous voice of his. "The ponyvillian mare Celestia hired to replace Perfect Stitch. And one of the nation's heroes."

I blushed, but you know, even then I knew. Even then I knew there was something off about his tone.

"Ah, indeed! It's a pleasure." I cleared my throat and gestured to you. "And this is—"

"Twilight Sparkle," he cut off, again. "Princess Celestia's personal student, aren't you?" A thin smile graced his lips. "And you say we're the one's keeping fabulous company."

"It's nice to meet you two," Lace Ribbon chipped in, her smile as kind as her heart—unlike others. "Tinsel was telling us about your work, Rarity."

River nodded, always a fan. "Sharp's the friend I was telling you about the other day!" she exclaimed. She turned to the elder stallion and raised an eyebrow. "He's hiring, you know? Aren't you, Sharp?"

"Goodness, are you?" I asked, and my heart skipped a beat. What? I didn't know! I didn't know what was coming to me, and so I had no choice but to be intrigued. He is a force to be feared, regardless of his… you know.

Whether you like it or not, his approval could make my career. He could shoot me from a virtually unknown designer to somepony. And the appeal of leaving Ponyville, well… I liked you, but not quite enough to dissuade my dreams.

Besides, It's not like we can go back in time and sto—

Twilight Sparkle, don't even think about it! Do not! No, I don't care tha—! Twilight, I said no! 

No, don't you 'fiiiiiiine' me, Missy! Honestly...

He harrumphed. "One of my star designers moved to Manehattan, so a spot has freed up to work at my offices for a year." He lifted a nearby cup of coffee and took a long sip. When he was done, he fixed me with a hard stare. "The deadline for applicants is tomorrow afternoon. Curious you didn't apply. All of the upcoming hard-working designers did."

I remember laughing nervously. Though I did not appreciate the thinly-veiled insinuation, he did have a point. I'd been… a bit too distracted by somepony else and my duties at the castle to go out and hunt for career opportunities.

"Ah, well—"

"Don't be like that, Sharp! She can absolutely do it!" River insisted, bless her. "She is a national hero, after all.”

Before I could speak up, you did.

“What are the necessary requirements for applicants to be eligible?”

“Three original designs," he said flatly. Again, his eyes burned through me. He opened his saddlebag, took out a sketchpad, some colored pencils, and opening it up to a blank page, drew three different color palettes. "Three original designs tomorrow afternoon using these colors."

I balked. "Three original designs? As in dresses?! For tomorrow?!" I gasped, before quickly composing myself and leveling my tone. "Surely, you… Well, that's quite... "

"That’s a simple task for any hardworking, talented designer," he interrupted. "Unless you don't think you have the talent for it."

You and I spoke up at the same time, both indignant. Of course I had the talent for it, we insisted, and I didn't properly register you'd talked until he turned his stare over to you and frowned. I should have seen the signs, should have known.

I didn't.

Neither did you.

And my pride was louder than both of us.

"Worry not!" I exclaimed confidently, taking the page from the sketchpad and smiling brilliantly. "You'll have those dresses tomorrow before the sun has set!"

Without another word—well, no, I obviously said goodbye, for I am not a barbarian—I trotted off, you following right behind. We headed towards the castle, and it wasn't until we were out of their sight that I turned to you.

"Twilight?" I purred, fluttering my eyelashes. "You're not terribly hungry, are you? I mean, I understand if you are, and far be it from me to keep yo—"

You shook your head and smiled. "You can just ask for my help, you know?"
 
 
 


XIII.	The Diamonds, The Stars, and The Sun Itself




A low whirr filled the workroom, reminiscent of a growl, and to be frank, I couldn't rightly tell if it was my sewing machine or my stomach. 

"I've gone mad," I said with all the nonchalance such a statement entails as I nonchalantly worked on somehow—somehow—accomplishing the mad task of making three stellar gowns in a single day. "Haven't I? I have. I've gone mad."

You did not reply, and when I glanced up, I found you fully immersed in tracing and cutting patterns from fabrics. Your nose was scrunched up in concentration, and your tongue was peeking out your mouth.

"Twilight? Twilight, darling?"

You looked up, as you should when I call you. Not because you have to, you can do whatever pleases your brilliantly gorgeous mind, but let's be honest, you can hardly resist me. So, you looked up when I called, as you should.

"Huh?"

"Twilight, I truly do appreciate your help, but aren't you supposed to be doing your research or whatever it is you do at the castle?"

"It's fine," you replied almost immediately, returning to your gaze. "Don't worry about it."

We fell back into silence. I glanced at the nearby clock and realized four hours had gone by already. Four hours, and we were barely halfway through the first dress.

That called for dramatic measures. And, yes, I did mean dramatic measures.

Letting out the loudest whine I possibly could, I stopped the machine and threw myself on my worktable, desolate, inconsolable, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

"Wha-?" You looked up, blinking owlishly at me and then moving towards me in alarm. "Rarity, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong? WHAT'S WRONG?" I asked, horrified by your ignorance of what was so clear before us. What's wrong, you'd asked! The horrors! "Twilight Sparkle, it is almost six o'clock and we have ZERO dresses! Zero! Zilch! Nothing! Nada!"

"That's not true!" you protested. "We have… Well, we have a half a dress."

"It's over, Twilight!" I said, grabbing a piece of fabric and throwing it at your face, because it was over! It was over! What awaited me now but a life of misery! What awaited me now but a shamed return to Ponyville, forsaken by those who loved me and myself and all that was fabulous and—

Dear stars, I really did go on and on, didn't I?

Your fault, might I add. You're the one who taught me how to properly catastrophize the future.

"Rarity, calm down!" you said, but how could one even be calm in such a situation like that! How, Twilight?! How, I ask of you!

"How, Twilight? How can one even be calm in a situation like this?!" I asked of you, and you simply stammered your reply because there was no being calm! "Does it look like I can do three fabulous gowns in a single night?! EVERYTHING IS RUINED! DESTROYED! MY CAREER, IN SHAMBLES! MY LIFE, WRECKED! PONYKIND, SHAMED! EQUESTR—"

"Rarity. Rarity. Rarity."

You repeated my name as I rambled on, you know, in that way you do when you think I'm being dramatic.

"Rarity, stop!" you finally exclaimed, and so I did, pressing a hoof to my chest.

"Twilight, I realize you're upset, but there's no need to raise your voice like that."

"What—? But—! I—!"

You sighed and rubbed your forehead, just like you did a moment ago.

I approached you ever so carefully, taking your hoof in mine. "Now, now, darling, you need to calm down. Are you calm?"

"...Yes, I am calm," you said.

"Fabulous." I tapped your nose. "Now, where was I? Ah yes." I cleared my throat. "EQUESTRIA, RAVAGED! THE UNIVERSE, DESTR—"

And then.

And then, you interrupted.

"Rarity! Freaking out won't help us make these dresses any faster!"

"Nothing will help us, Twilight!" I shot back in reply, and then, because I was being theatrical, and because I forgot just who exactly you were, I blurted out: "At this rate, only Princess Celestia could salvage this!"

You stared me. You stared at me for quite some time.

"You said it was almost six, didn't you?"

I was momentarily thrown off. "I… Yes? Yes! See! Ruined!"

"Rarity," you repeated, "It's almost six."

"Yes, Twilight, I know," I replied, my anger fading if only because irritation was quickly replacing it. "What is your point?"

"Court ends at six, Rarity," you said. "Princess Celestia's court. You did say she could salvage the situation, didn't you?"

And now it was my turn to stare at you as comprehension dawned on me.

"Twilight Sparkle, clearly you and I have to sit down and talk about which of the things I say should not be taken seriously when I'm being theatric."

You rolled your eyes. "Rarity! Do you want this job or not?"

"Yes, but I am not foolish and desperate enough to go to Princess Celestia and ask her to help me sew dresses, for goodness's sake!"

You smiled.

"I never said you'd be the one asking," you replied, and before I could stop you, you teleported away in a flash of magic.
 
 
 
 
The longest thirty minutes of my life went by while I waited for you to come back.

Truthfully, I actually managed to make good progress, and by the time you returned, I had three-quarters of a dress.

You opened the doors and walked in, looking terribly pleased.

“I’m back!” you announced, trotting across the room and towards a table.

I remember looking back and forth between you and the door, half-expecting Princess Celestia to stride in behind you. You said nothing else for a while, contenting yourself with re-adjusting the patterns you’d been working on, and I admit I was…disappointed.

“Twilight?” I ventured.

“She’ll be right here,” you replied.

“Ah.”

“Yep.”

And as sure as the sun rises each and every morning, golden magic pushed the door open and in strode Princess Celestia herself. Now, by this time, though I would hardly call myself the Princess’s good friend, we did get along. She’d visited my workshop often and would engage me in pleasant conversation as we shared the baked goods she’d swiped from the kitchens.

So, when she walked in, I did not freak out, as it were.

“Princess!” I stammered, putting my dress down and rushing to her. What had you said to her?! What would she think! The tailor she’d employed couldn’t even finish three measly dresses?! “Goodness, what brings you here? How was court?”

She smiled warmly. “Oh, court went as well as one could hope when dear Duchess Seedling attends,” she said.

I grimaced. “Ah… Still going on about her feud with the Duke, I see.”

The Princess walked across the room, offering her student a smile. “In any case, I did not come here to dwell on such matters. That, I think, would be better suited to discuss over cookies and tea.” She sat down next to you and then turned her gaze to me. “Twilight was telling me you must finish some dresses for Sharp Silk?”

“Er, yes!” I said, and I dearly hoped the Princess wasn’t offended. I didn’t want her to think I was trying to find something better than her employ—even if it was temporary.  “He allowed me the opportunity to try and meet his submission deadline for a designer position in his company.”

Princess Celestia didn’t reply immediately.

See! Because she knew!

She didn’t immediately reply, as though she were contemplating life and death and whatever other deeply profound subjects she contemplates, and then she smiled. But she smiled the Celestia smile. It’s a bit like when you try to smile cryptically at me, except the Princess is, ah, more adept at actually being cryptic. Poker faces have never been your forté, sweetheart.

“I want to help Rarity,” you said, drawing the attention of your teacher, “but Rarity said that she feels the only way to do this is with your assistance, Princess.”

“What?! No, I never said that!” I gasped, betrayed by you. “Princess, I didn’t!”

And she laughed.

“Rarity, as flattered as I am, it has been a long time since I last sewed anything,” the Princess confessed, making a show out of seeming embarrassed, “but I would be remiss to instruct my faithful student to help others and yet not set the example myself.”

You stood up straight, looking terribly proud.

I was horrified.

“B-but, Princess! Really, I—! It’s not necessary— I mean, it might be, but—! I couldn’t ask that of you! You’re Princess Celestia!”

“I am,” she said with a mischief-filled smile, “but I am also your friend, Rarity.”

Twilight, I nearly fainted then and there. And she smiled even more! She reveled in my flustered admiration of her, the fiend! Stars, I don’t blame you for being so adoring. She’s delightful. I should stop by the castle more often for tea.

“I… I… Thank you,” I think I said. I don’t quite remember. I was quite shocked.

And then.

Dear stars, and then.

There are certain moments in life, Twilight, that you never forget. They are etched into your mind, engraved forevermore, and you think about them in the quiet of the night, wondering if they really happened or if you somehow made it all up.

There stood Princess Celestia, Ultimate of the Alicorns born out of holy song itself, mistress of the eternal sun, ruler of the Long Peace, patron of champions and sustainer of the hundred cities. There she stood, and in an action that I will never forget, spoke to me and said:

“Well, then, Rarity, Princess Celestia reporting for duty! What are my orders?”

I stared at her.

I gawked at her.

Mouth half-open, eyes wide, the entire thing.

I think I said something.

“Well.”

That’s what I said, and then she giggled.

“Well?” she repeated, and she looked down to you, “You know what they say, don’t you, my faithful student?”

And then you giggled.

“Brevity is the soul of the wit?” you offered.

“Very good! Did you know the local theatre is staging a modern adaption of Hooflet? I think you would enjoy it.”

“Really?!”

“Yes. I was allowed to watch their rehearsals. Perhaps we should attend while we wait for Rarity to speak?”

My cheeks burned. “All right, all right!” I exclaimed, and I found out just where you got your little mischievous streak from.  “I can take a hint!”

And yet, before I could give orders, Celestia turned to you and flustered us both when she casually said,

“By the way, I very much approve, Twilight.”
 
 
 
 
In the end, you failed your intended friendship mission but achieved an altogether different one.

We finished the dresses, sometime at around six in the morning. Three simple, plain dresses that I privately knew and accepted would hardly get me a glowing praise from Sharp Silk, and yet I still loved them. They glowed with more love and, well, no not effort, but…warmth than anything else I could have done.

I remember Princess Luna trotted into the workroom, finding us scattered about on pillows, empty cups of coffee littered about, and three dresses laid neatly on the worktable.

“Dear sister, art thou dabbling in the art of the dress now?” she asked with a smirk.

“More like the art of the gossip,” you grumbled, sitting next to me, your body gently pressed against mine. I remember feeling tired enough that I was tempted to nuzzle you.

“Twilight, that's not gossip! It's national news! You blew up the library as a filly!”

The Princess laughed. “Now, Rarity, it was only half the library.”

Princess Luna was amused by us all and strode across the room until she was seated by the Princess.

“We feel slighted by our exclusion,” she said. “We have many an entertaining gossip regarding our dear sister.”

“What? You do not!” Celestia exclaimed, gently tapping Luna on the shoulder. “I was discreet!”

Luna laughed. “Master Starswirl differed in this opinion.”

The Princesses began to bicker, and I can’t remember their conversation because I was otherwise distracted when you finally blissfully satisfied my desires and ever so gently nuzzled me when I yawned. You pulled away eventually, but you did not move away. You were completely focused on me, a little smile on your lips, and the way you looked at me... It felt like nothing else existed for you but I.

I think we were both too tired to let our inhibitions stop our desires.

I think I wanted to kiss you.

“Darling,” I whispered, and I caressed your cheek with my hoof.  “What about your work? You spent all night helping me.”

You hid a yawn. It was cute. You were cute. I was so tired, and you still looked angelic.

“It’s okay,” you said again. “Don’t worry about it.”

My face puckered into a moue of quiet dissatisfaction.

“But I do worry,” I whined. And again, I wanted to lean in and kiss you. “I want to help you too, dear.”

You gaze lowered, and your brows knitted together in thought. “Well… Maybe after you’ve handed in the designs, you can proof-read my essay?”

“Of course,” I said at once, until I thought about it for a moment and asked for clarification. “How many pages?”

“A hundred-and-twenty-three.”

“Oh, dear.”

You grinned. “Still want to help me?” 

“Why, of course, silly,” I replied with a winning smile. “That’s light reading, is it not?”

And you laughed, delighted, your eyes sparkling, and I think I almost loved you. I think you wanted to kiss me, too. I wish you had. I think you were going to.

But I was too embarrassed to see if you would. Instead, I decided to lean forward and cuddle you, hiding the flush of my face by losing myself in your coat. I yawned, trying to mask it off as exhaustion, and you fell for it, allowing me to stay close as sleep drifted me away.

Even now, I wish I had kissed you. Maybe the forthcoming horrible events would have gone a very different way.






In a sea of strangers you've longed to know me
Your life spent sailing to my shores.
The arms that yearn to someday hold me
Will ache beneath the heavy oars.

Please take your time and take it slowly 
As all you do will run its course
And nothing else can take what only
Was always meant as solely yours.
~ Lang Leav, Memories