32nd of Warm Season, 1005 BA
They didn’t come again. Part of Rarity was thrilled that she didn’t have to check over her shoulder every five minutes anymore. The other part was frustrated by the lack of distractions. Her mind kept going back to that night in Hoofington she couldn’t remember. She didn’t think she’d ever stop feeling dirty.
She checked over her shoulder anyway.
In time, the environment around her changed. Gone were the endless rocky valleys of dirt and grime and heat. Now she found herself weaving through shallow hills of brilliant emerald grass that swayed in the winds. The farther north she travelled, the cooler the air became, and even some clouds began to form overhead, drifting about in lazy peace. Trees started to grow, usually isolated but sometimes in large thickets. In time she knew she’d start to come across forests.
She came upon a small brook. Using her map purchased in Hoofington and the lessons learned from Yearling – was that crazy mare still chasing after Little Lightning? – she surmised that it wasn’t the Ohioats River but a smaller tributary. If she just followed it, she’d be at Mooisville in just a few short days.
The thought was sobering. Home. A place she’d not been to in almost seven years. How much would it have changed? She might not even recognize it anymore. She wondered if Mootilda Heavyhoof was still governor. Her father had never liked that cow. She smiled, remembering how upset he’d gotten at the Heavyhoof’s appointment. Other ponies thought he just didn’t like cows. Rarity and her mother knew better, of course.
She missed her father. Only now, with the first signs of home laid before her, did she realize just how true that was. She felt a sudden desire to hurry, to get to Mooisville as fast as Cerulean could carry her. Just to see their smiling faces again, to know she was safe and loved and…
Her mood plummeted like an anvil off a cliff’s edge. Mooisville wasn’t ‘safe’. Seeing her parents didn’t mean an end to her troubles. It would be a comfort, but nothing more. If she let herself lapse into complacency, she would die, and her family with her. The Apples would ensure it. She still had to make good time, but more for their sake than her own.
As she bobbed on his back, Rarity wondered about Cerulean. What was she to do with him? The obvious answer would be to keep him as her own. And yet…
Rarity already had a great many things to worry about. She didn’t want to add another Piecazzo to the list. That was unreasonable, surely, and her fears undoubtedly should be overruled by logic. Cerulean cut her travel time down to a third of what she’d anticipated, and the added mobility would be nothing but a boon in avoiding bounty hunters and Apple Gang attacks. Keeping Cerulean was the smart thing to do, if she had any sense.
As if sensing her thoughts, Cerulean cast a wary glance back at her. For an instant, she imagined him with a piece of flesh hanging off his face and an eye missing. The picture sent a shiver down her spine, then another. Cerulean snorted and looked forward once more, blissfully unaware of her thoughts.
“Would you hate me, Cerulean?” she whispered, turning her eyes to the narrow brook. She observed its steady, slow current along the rocks and reeds. “If you died one day, would you hold it against me?”
In truth, she had no idea what Cerulean thought of her. Piecazzo had always been affectionate whenever around her. Cerulean acted as if she wasn’t even there. Even now, as she rode him along the quiet shore, he paid her little mind. As far as Rarity could tell, he was indifferent to everything around him. He’d made no fuss when she’d taken the reins from his last owner – she winced at the thought of the body lying unnoticed and unburied in the fields even now. Another unreasonable image.
Maybe there were different options available to her. Cerulean was hardly an interesting travel companion, even by sand lizard standards. He was obedient, but that was the limit of his personality that she could determine. Travelling alone was even less appealing, but if she was going to have a mount she preferred one that would enjoy her company. Clearly, Cerulean didn’t. She wasn’t sure if he enjoyed company at all.
Then again, there was one advantage to having a disinterested mount. If she wasn’t all that attached to him and he did get killed…
Rarity shook her head hard. “What is wrong with you, Rarity? That’s a terrible excuse and you should be ashamed of yourself!”
Cerulean’s neck frills rose, as if he were perking an ear at her outburst.
“Don’t you rustle your scales at me, mister,” she growled. “It was a moment of weakness, no more. As if I’d utilize such an odious advantage.”
If Cerulean thought anything of her remark, he offered no indication of it.
Rarity heaved a long sigh and shook her head. “I’m losing it, aren’t I?” Her gaze drifted to the east, where the sun was just hanging over the hills. The sky would start turning red in the next hour. “I must try to be positive. I wonder if Coco’s gained any success since I sent her to Mooisville?”
She envisioned her former assistant tending to a shop bustling with happy customers. Granted, the shop looked like Rarity’s, but it was still a pleasant idea. “I do hope she’s taking care of herself. The young mare has a habit of overextending herself. We’ll have to keep an eye on that, won’t we?” She glanced at Cerulean, paying no mind to how he ignored her.
“And of course, Mother and Papa will still be in their tacky clothes. I wonder if she ever opened that bakery she was so interested in?”
Something was holding her throat. She reached up to rub at her necklace. It did little against the tingling, probing sensation between her…
“And Papa! I bet the first thing he’ll want to do is update me on the latest hoofball news.” Her smile grew. She paid no attention to the twitching on the corner of it. “I never did understand what he saw in that sport, but it will be nice to hear. A touch nostalgic, don’t you think?”
Hoofball. Such a silly sport. But then again, it beat shootouts among the hills. She could live with it.
“And Sweetie Belle! Dear little Sweetie. I can’t imagine how much she’s grown. I hope she’s become a proper lady.” She chuckled, a strained noise barely recognizable as her own. “Not likely, given who is raising her. But then, I turned out alright, did I not?”
Another glance at Cerulean. Ignored once more. Her ears flattened against her skull. The tightness in her throat intensified. “I’m alright. It’s… Everything’s okay.”
Yet the longer she sat there, reins limp in her hands, the heavier and heavier her shoulders felt. She slumped in the saddle, staring at the rhythmically shifting frills on the back of her steed’s neck. It was almost hypnotic, but not enough so.
“I don’t know who I expect to fool,” she muttered. “I’m as far from ‘alright’ as a mare can possibly be. I just proved I can go murder ponies for the sake of distraction. And the thing I’m trying to distract myself from…” She shuddered. “I… I was drunk, wasn’t I? D-didn’t know what I was doing. That means it doesn’t matter. Right?”
She stared at Cerulean’s head. He offered no response. Scowling, she turned her glare to the bubbling brook. “It does! I was used. Abused! What happened doesn’t make me a… a whorse. It was date r—” Her tongue spontaneously clamped against the ridge of her mouth. Stiff, lips pursed, she took a moment to take some slow, careful breaths.
“I’m innocent.”
The claim didn’t sound half as confident as she’d intended.
“I’m innocent.”
Not much better. Her lips trembled. She rubbed her necklace. “Why did I let it happen, Cerulean?” No answer, of course. “What will my family think of me when they find out? Can I keep it a secret, perhaps?”
She tried to envision herself keeping them out of the loop. Even as the Bad Apples were chasing them, even as she fought to protect them, even as the barest touch of another pony made her want to clamp her thighs tightly together.
Another long, slow sigh. She was doing that a lot lately. “It’s no use. They’ll figure it out eventually, or at least know something’s wrong. And then they’ll interrogate me. By Luna’s Stars, that’s going to be a disturbing conversation. How does a mare tell her parents that her first time was stolen by some nameless rogue?”
At the thought of that pony, her hand went to rub Silver Lining’s handle. Oh, she’d let her go, and perhaps that was the best decision for the time. Yet if she ever saw that orange-coated mare again, she wouldn’t hesitate. “I’m going to challenge her to a duel, and then her fate will be up to Celestia’s mercy.”
She paused to consider her own words. Should she feel guilty for thinking such foul, vicious thoughts? No matter how she looked at it, her feelings didn’t change. That disturbed her just a little. When did she get to the point where she could feel legitimate hatred and not also feel guilt for it?
It felt like she was becoming more ‘Bulletproof Heart’ every day.
Mooisville finally appeared, a city centered upon a tall hill next to the Ohioats River. Even from a distance, the architecture was distinctively chaotic. Wooden structures made up the majority, ranging in styles from log cabins to thatch-roofed cottages to multi-story houses of Manehattan’s boxy design. There were metal structures rising over those, seven or eight story buildings (those were new!). Ringing the city at its outer edges were a hodgepodge of small homes designed in the traditional manner of their inhabitants: barns for cattle, stone and thatch huts for zebras, curiously tall and narrow red brick minotaur abodes, even a few of the tree-like roosts for griffons.
Rising above all of this were the glittering crystal towers. They sparkled in the bright sunlight, always dominating the scene with their beauty and unique, striking shapes. Once, long ago, Rarity had dreamed of living in one of those. Staring at them from atop a hill, she couldn’t help but think her old desires foolish. Not in that she couldn’t have achieved the goal, oh no, but in that living one of the stair-filled things would undoubtedly get very old very fast.
Ah, practicality. That was one thing she liked about her new outlook on life. If only she could take the good parts and be rid of the bad.
A cool northern wind blew against her face, refreshing and pleasant. The Warm Season, despite its name, meant cold days for the Crystal Hills. Farms of the floodplains surrounded her in every direction, dutifully tended by a range of species. This was what she’d grown up knowing, many races working together for the common good. She watched with a sense of satisfaction as a burly earth pony mare guided other ponies, cattle and at least two minotaur in harvesting what appeared to be cotton from a nearby farm.
As she rode for the city, she recalled her first experiences leaving home. Towns completely comprised of just ponies confounded her in the beginning. She’d actually questioned a few locals, much to her current chagrin. It was simply a matter of numbers: Equestria was a land of ponies by virtue of there being so many of them. Hoofington was kind to non-pony races, but Mooisville was the hub of the minorities. She’d never known why. Never thought to question it.
Nor did she bother to question it now. She simply basked in the familiarity.
Forty-five minutes later, she was among the outer homes. A zebra neighborhood, mostly comprised of thatch roof cottages. The locals paid her little mind. A young colt waved at her and said something to his fussy mother about the ‘pretty lady’, to which Rarity could only smile with self-satisfaction. If she could still earn praise for her looks despite having just traveled hundreds of miles with only a nearby brook for bathing, she must be doing something right.
Unfortunately, ‘something right’ also meant drawing the eyes of a few of the older colts. That, at least, she wasn’t inclined to encourage. She flicked Cerulean’s reins and continued at a light canter, eager to be back in familiar territory.
It didn’t take her long. Rarity had grown up on the east side of the city, and it was a simple matter of following the first familiar main thoroughfare she came to. Outer Spoke Lane ran a circle around the entire city, so it made for an obvious navigational landmark. The road was full of wagons, sand lizards, and citizens walking along the gravel passage. Over the course of two hours Rarity passed a range of residential districts, including one she didn’t recognize that apparently belonged to thestrals: tall homes of stone that spread out near the top in a manner not unlike the wooden griffon roosts.
Near noon, she finally came upon Fine Grain Lane and took it deeper into the city. Within short order, the homes and structures once confined to memory came back. There were differences, of course – a new house there, a playground that hadn’t existed before on that street corner – but generally speaking it was as she remembered. It was a ratty, dirty, littered part of town, but even so bubbling joy made itself known in Rarity’s heart, and she couldn’t resist urging Cerulean to move a little faster.
That lasted until about when she reached Clydestone Road. It was only another couple blocks to home, and she only now recalled exactly why she was here. The familiar talon of fear gripped her heart and she promptly pulled into a nearby backroad, pausing between some decorative oak trees to think. If the Bad Apple Gang had her family hostage, they wouldn’t be obvious about it. Her family probably weren’t even aware. But they would be watching the house. She needed a better strategy than riding up to the old place in open daylight.
It took her a little time to make up her mind. Upon doing so, she promptly guided Cerulean away from home. There used to be a stable on the corner of Junebug and Royal, and she was glad to see that it was still there. In fact, it appeared to have expanded, sporting some new stalls and a second floor. What the second floor might be for, she couldn’t hazard a guess. She tied Cerulean to a post as close to the front door as she could and entered.
The stablehand manning the lobby was a tall, slender red earth pony mare. Rarity recognized her instantly; they had attended the same school, although Misty had been a year her senior.
When the silver-maned mare looked up from adjusting a bridle her brow shot up almost to the ceiling. “Rarity? Is that you?”
“Misty Mane, as I live and breathe.” Rarity leaned against the counter to get a good look at the pony. “You got tall.”
“By the Sisters, it is you!” Misty hurriedly set her work aside and stood up, an awed smile on her lips. “And am I dreaming, or are you actually wearing jeans and carrying a gun? Feel free to pinch me.”
How Rarity didn’t flinch at the mention of Silver Lining, she might never know. Instead, she smirked and pulled back her vest to reveal Ruby Heart. “Two guns, actually. But look at you! Working with lizards? I seem to remember you calling them ‘icky’ and ‘ugly’.”
Misty’s eyes were set upon Ruby Heart, jaw loose. “That’s got to be the prettiest gun I’ve ever seen.”
“You should feel the way it kicks.” Rarity hurried to hide the gun once more, hoping the butterflies in her stomach weren’t obvious. “But you and the lizards?”
“Hmm? Oh, right!” Misty awkwardly attempted to laugh off her distraction. “Yeah, I didn’t like the big, clodding brutes all that much. Then I got a cutie mark in riding the things.”
Now it was Rarity’s jaw that dropped. “You? What happened to even get you riding in the first place? Did your father glue you to a saddle?”
This time Misty’s laugh was genuine. “Not quite, but he might as well have!” She leaned over the counter once more. “But where in Equestria have you been? Last I heard you were caught in some caravan raid. I thought…” She sobered, standing straight once more. “I thought you were dead.”
The words were like a needle pricking her heart. With a grimace, Rarity shook her head. “Not yet, but only because I’m refusing to let death have me just yet.” She stood straight as well, leveling Misty with her most serious expression. “I’m sorry, Misty, but I didn’t come here to catch up with old friends. I’ve got some serious business to attend to with my family, and I cannot let it take long. How much would it be to keep my lizard here for a few hours?”
“Oh?” Misty blinked. “Oh! Wait, you own a lizard?”
“And I may be about to own a few more, assuming father never got any.” Rarity pulled off her backpack and started digging for her book of receipts. “Do you know if my family owns any?”
“Uh… no. They don’t.”
She cursed under her breath, but decided not to let it bother her. She’d worry about saving her destroyed finances later. “Okay, I’m going to need a lizard saddled and ready to go for each of them, plus one. Mother, Papa, Sweetie, and a friend of mine.” She pulled her receipt book out. “You can use one of these to check with the bank—”
“Woah, hold on!” Misty waved her hands wildly. “You wanna… rent or buy?”
“Buy.”
The mare’s eyes boggled. “You want to buy four sand lizards? You can afford that?”
“Most assuredly.” Rarity slapped her receipt book on the counter. “I’ve been busy these last seven years. I need those animals ready by the time I get back. We’ll be leaving in a hurry.”
“But… I… How did you…?”
With a groan, Rarity clapped her hands in front of Misty’s face. “Misty, please! This is an emergency! Now can you or can’t you get me the lizards I need?”
Some things changed as a city aged and evolved. Rarity was glad to see the back roads and alleys were not among them, at least not for her part of town. Sneaking to her old home proved a simple matter. She tried to keep a close lookout for anypony that might be watching for her, but in truth she had no means of making such a determination. This neighborhood was mostly low class earth pony residents, and she couldn’t simply look at a pony and know they were part of the Bad Apple Gang. Her only real hope was to go unnoticed by luck.
Of course, there was also the risk of being recognized by ponies in the neighborhood. None of them had cast a second glance at her so far, but she imagined it was only a matter of time. The last thing she needed now was to get stuck dealing with a hoodlum, but talking to a pony who wanted to catch up might be a lot worse. This in mind, Rarity did everything she could to avoid running into ponies, whether that meant hiding behind corners, slipping into an alleyway for a slightly longer path, or simply tucking her hat low over her eyes.
She hated every second of it. Mooisville was home. She should feel comforted by the easily recognized houses, faces, and shops. If a pony saw her now, they might think her a criminal trying to hide from the local deputies… not that there weren’t plenty to find as it was. Is this the image she wanted her old friends and acquaintances to know her by today? Such was the price for survival, she supposed.
She came to an abrupt pause, taking in her surroundings. This was the alley between Post Script’s and Old Mare Scrutiny’s homes. Which meant that when she rounded the next corner…
Her heart leapt into her throat. The next street descended a hill, wooden homes in two-acre spaces lining either side. And there, not forty feet away, was the backside of a familiar cabin of thick logs. Her eyes drifted over the scene, taking in every familiar element: the lime green curtains with the flower motif her mother had refused to take down; the old slide her father had made by hand and horn, now looking worn and disused; the brown picket fence with its recent repairs; the chimney of grey stone that even now sent a plume of smoke into the bright sky. Not all of it was exactly as she’d remembered.
It mattered not. Her throat tightened and her stomach clenched. This was it. All she had to do was take a few more steps, open that back door, and she’d be home. Her eyes centered on the small door, too far away to see details yet recalling every little crack and knot. Her family…
Her eyes darted to her person. Jeans. Button-up shirt. Vest and coat. Silver Lining. Dirty, clothes ripped up, and she probably reeked. She twiddled her fingers as an image of her mother’s concerned face came to mind. And what of her father? Maybe he’d be mad at her for putting them all in danger.
But they were in danger, and she was doing none of them any favors by delaying the inevitable. With arms stiff at her sides and head held high, Rarity crossed the street and opened the back gate. She didn’t even have to pause to consider the latch and how it tended to get hung up if not pushed against the wood first. Valiantly ignoring the moths flying laps around her insides, she marched right up to the back door and—
Her hand was on the knob, but she couldn’t will it to turn. It’s been over six years. This… This isn’t your home anymore, Rarity. A slow inhale. An equally slow exhale. She let go of the doorknob, pulled her hat off her head, and knocked lightly on the old wood. Seconds passed. Fidgeting, eyes shifting to her surroundings, she tried again with more force. “Come on… Come on…” Just as she was considering entering, the door opened.
Thought processes came to a screeching halt. Rarity’s heart might even have stopped. The plump, short mare before her met the gape with a peering gaze. She wore a checkered shirt of off-white greens and tight grey pants, both of which clashed catastrophically with her pink coat. The bun that made up her mane was a mess of frayed hairs and missed locks, insulted by the hoop earrings and gold necklace. She was, all in all, one of the least fashionable mares Rarity had ever seen.
And she was also the most beautiful sight imaginable. “M-Mother?”
Cookie Crumbles blinked, stepped out of the doorway. She leaned closer, such that their muzzles were almost touching. At last, her eyes widened. “Rarity?”
Whatever self-control Rarity had been maintaining floundered in the presence of a face she’d only seen in her dreams for the last seven years. The tears rushed down her cheeks and her throat defied the attempt to speak she hadn’t made. She raised her arms, but a sudden fear clenched her and she pulled them to her chest, fiddling with the rim of her hat. Trembling shoulders hunched, she looked at her hooves and fought against her throat. “I… I’m…”
She was snatched up in a hug so tight it stole what little breath she had. Her mother’s hand pressed against the back of her head, setting it gently but firmly on her shoulder. The tight hold of the embrace ripped away at the last of Rarity’s defenses, and she promptly wrapped her arms around her mother and sobbed.
“Hondo! Hondo, come quick!”
“Oh, what is it now, woman? I’ve got a pool game to win over at—”
“It’s Rarity!”
“Rarity? What are…? Rarity!”
Another set of arms, bigger and stronger, engulfed her. The scratchy feel of a mustache somehow managed to squeeze a giggle through her crying. That moustache, that stupid, ugly, wonderful moustache! She raised her head, and though everything was a blur she knew the white and brown blob attached to her side. “Papa!”
He kissed her forehead, barely suppressing sniffles of his own. “M-my little princess. I was starting to think we’d never see you again.”
She had no idea how long they held one another. Rarity couldn’t stop crying. All her fears and concerns drained out through her eyes, streaking her cheeks and her parents’ shoulders. It was as if she were ten again and all the wrongs of her life could be washed away by the warmth and love of these two ponies. Speech proved impossible, yet she so desperately needed to apologize for how little she’d appreciated them before. Life was good when the ponies she loved were within arm’s reach.
At some point she’d been guided into the living room. When she came out of the breakdown, she discovered herself on that tacky green and purple couch her mother had bought when she was born, the very same one that the foal Sweetie had promptly stained with a lunch she hadn’t approved of. Her mother, still holding her hands, would be sitting on the stain right now. Her father sat on her other side, arm around her shoulder as he smiled down at her.
Rubbing her eyes, she tried to think of something to say to these two, something that might make up for almost seven years of being away. All she managed was a feeble, “I’m sorry it t-took so long.”
Her father hushed her, running his fingers through her hair in that way she’d always liked as a filly. “Don’t worry about that. We’re just glad you’re finally home.”
“That’s right.” Her mother grinned and pressed her forehead to Rarity’s. “We were so worried about our little girl. But now you’re back, and everything’s okay again.”
Okay? Maybe not, but… indulging for a little bit longer wouldn’t hurt. Surely. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see your faces.”
Giggling, her mother leaned back to get a better look at her, eyes roaming up and down Rarity’s body. “I didn’t recognize you at first. This tomcoltish look is so strange compared to the frilly dresses we’re used to.” Her eyes drifted to Silver Lining, still in its holster at Rarity’s hip. Her pupils dilated just a little, her lips parting in a quiet breath.
Hunching forward a little, Rarity moved her hand as if to hide the weapon, only to end up rubbing the little nub on the handle instead. “I know it might take some getting used to.”
Her father shook her shoulders with a jovial smile. “You kidding? I love the new look! Makes the whole ‘gun fighter’ thing seem real. I’m sure you could bluff your way past any of them bandits if you wanted to looking like this.”
Her ears twitched. Her stomach seemed to sink into the couch as she slowly turned her head to stare at him. “Bluff?”
“Well, yeah.” He smirked, clearly unaware of her discomfort. “You don’t actually expect us to think you fired a gun at somepony, right?”
Silence. Slowly, his smile faded. Rarity only stared at him, trying to control the trembling.
“Honey?” Her mother rubbed her shoulder. “Are you alright?”
Ignoring her in favor of keeping her eyes set on her father’s, Rarity licked her lips and at last managed to speak. “Why do you think they’re after me, Papa?”
“Well…” His eyes darted about the room, then over her shoulder at her mother. He at last met her gaze, but all confidence was gone from his tone. “Because of a misunderstanding. Surely?”
A misunderstanding. Was that what the Apples had told them? She rubbed her lips and stared forward once more, eyes set on the old brass clock on the wall. It wasn’t even ticking, yet they still had it. It served as a reminder that time was so very limited. She stood up and stepped into the center of the room, then turned to them, hoping her face reflected her seriousness properly. “Did you meet Coco? Tell me she arrived.”
“Coco?” Her mother smiled, but it was wan. “Such a precious young filly. She stays in the guest room. Got a nice job as a seamstress down on Kazy Street.”
So she arrived after all. Rarity allowed herself a moment of relief, but only a moment. She had to accept the further repercussions of this news. “Alright, we’ll have to take her with us. We need to get ready to go. Where’s Sweetie Belle?”
“Go?” Her father tilted his head. “Go where?”
“Anywhere that is not here.” Sweeping her hat up from where it sat on the armrest, she glanced around the room. She knew this place oh-so well. Hopefully she could get one last tour before it was gone from her life forever. Slapping the hat to her head, she said, “We can’t presume the Apple Gang doesn’t know I’m here. They’ll be coming.”
“Oh, no, Honey…” Her mother stood with a warm, comforting smile. She set her hands to Rarity’s shoulders. “You don’t have to worry about that. We made a deal with the Bad Apples. There’s no bounty anymore.”
“That’s right!” Her father’s self-assured grin came back in full force beneath that little moustache. “Your mother and I took care of everything. You’d be surprised how reasonable they are.”
She stared at them, unable to believe that they were serious. Yet it was clear by their laid-back certainty that they believed every word. “I think you’d be surprised at how little they can be trusted.”
“Now, Rarity,” her mother pressed in a soothing voice, “I know you’ve had a long and troubling journey, what with all the dirt and few bath opportunities and the unpleasant company—”
“Unpleasant?” Rarity stepped back, knocking her mother’s hands away. The fire she was becoming so accustomed to rose up. She held it in check even as she let it add heat to her words. “If you think those fiends have any intention of honoring their word, then tell me why I had to fight off dozens of bounty hunters outside of Hoofington. And let’s not forget the bandits near the Lonely Mountain, or the traders who tried to molest me, or that one fucking mare who actually managed to—”
Her throat constricted as the sickening feeling between her legs returned. She couldn’t give voice to that, not to them. Not yet. She wrapped her arms around her waist and just stood there, taking slow, heavy breaths. Her parents stared at her as if she’d grown a second head. Her father had gone pale, and her mother kept opening and closing her mouth.
“I…” Her mother swallowed. “You mean the bounty is still…?”
With one last exhale, Rarity’s nerves were under control. Mostly. Her stomach was still tied in knots, but at least the urge to vomit had passed. She looked from her mother to her father and back again. “Where is Sweetie Belle?”
“She’s at school. Coco just went to pick her up.” Her father stood quickly, expression hard. “Now, Princess, I know this is hard to accept, but we did make a deal. Whatever happened, I’m sure it’s all—”
She raised her hand. Coupled with her frown, it effectively silenced him. “Papa, I appreciate what you tried to do for me, but you’ve been had. The entire thing was a ruse to get me here. I came only so I can get you out, because I’m sure that if I didn’t then they would have done something terrible to all of you as an act of petty retaliation.”
His eyes narrowed and he looked as if he were going to argue, but she turned from him. “Mother, I need you two to pack. Only light items, things that can fit on a few Dust Devils. I’ve booked enough for all of us and Coco. Focus on food and drink, because we’ll probably need it.”
Her father took a step forward. “Now hold on—”
“In the meantime, I’m going to go get Sweetie and Coco. I expect you two to be ready by the time I get back. With any luck—”
“Bulletproof Heart!”
She paused, hand on the doorknob. With a low groan, she rested her forehead against the wood of the back door. “Oh, come on…”
The voice had come from outside, and it returned with no less authority. “We know you’re in there. You come out nice and quiet-like, and your family won’t have to suffer. You got two minutes.”
“What the hay is this?” Her father stomped to the window next to her and peered through the curtains. “That’s Full Steam, the guy who made the deal with us. What in Equestria is he doing here?”
Rarity touched Silver Lining with one hand and Ruby Heart with the other. “How many are out back?”
“I don’t know what that has to do with—”
“How many?”
He shot her a scowl, then took another look outside. “Seven, counting Full Steam.”
“They’ll be blocking the front as well.” She heaved a sigh. “Better get this over with. Get in the kitchen and keep quiet.”
Her father’s hand caught the doorknob before hers. “This is my home, Rarity, and you don’t give the orders around here. I’m sure if we just talk about it, everything will be fine.” Before she could launch any protest, he’d opened the door and stepped outside. “Full Steam! What’s this all about?”
Papa, you idiot! She spun to her mother, who was now looking out the window as her father had been. “Get ready to pull him back in at a moment’s notice.” Without waiting for any sign of approval, she stormed her way outside.
Her father stood with arms crossed, glaring over his moustache at the posse arrayed before him. Rarity stepped up beside him, making sure to account for everypony present. Full Steam was a big, bulky earth pony sporting a pistol that probably matched Ruby Heart in caliber. Most of his companions were also earth ponies, save for a lone pegasus in the back. A quick check out the corners of her eyes revealed no apparent ponies lurking in the street.
“Ah, there she is.” Full Steam smirked. “Bulletproof Heart! I’ll be honest, I didn’t think you’d have the guts to show your face in Mooisville. Even doubted the report saying you’d arrived.”
Her father responded over her attempt to speak. “What’s your business here, Steam? We already gave you what you asked.”
Steam snorted. His smile didn’t fade, but now there was a clear malice to his gaze. “Stay out of this, gramps. This is between the Apple Gang and your darling daughter.”
“This is my property, young colt,” he snapped back, taking a daring step forward. Well, he probably thought it was daring. To Rarity, it was more suicidal than anything. But his bravado did serve a purpose; with him mostly standing between them now, Rarity was able to light her horn just a tiny bit. None of the ponies reacted, apparently too focused on her father. She used just the tiniest fraction of magic before dimming her horn.
Then she stepped around her father, interrupting whatever he’d been saying. She stood tall, snapped the safety strap off Silver Lining and Ruby Heart, and met Full Steam’s gaze. “I’ve come a long way and been through a lot of manure, Mr. Steam, and I am in no mood to deal with you right now. But if you test me, I swear to Mother Night I won’t hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes. Leave. Now.”
Steam blinked at her. Slowly, his smile morphed into something predatory, perhaps even manic. “You wanna duel me, little filly? I’ll have you know I’m the fastest gunfighter in Mooisville.”
She offered a derogatory sniff. “Spare me the bluster. Last warning. Leave.”
The smirk remained in place. Steam’s companions looked no less confident. It seemed news of her little rampage leaving Hoofington hadn’t reached them just yet. A pity, she’d been hoping to scare at least some of them off. Now it looked as though she really would be facing down seven ponies at once, plus however many they had waiting in front of the house. She raised her left arm, readying to grab Ruby Heart. Time to see if her little plan would work.
To her chagrin, her father spoke up. His calm and annoyed tone made it clear he didn’t believe they were within seconds of a gunfight. “This is ridiculous! I’m sure if we just talk about this we could—” His hand touched Rarity’s shoulder. She slapped it, hard. Steam must have thought he saw opportunity in her motion, for his hand snapped down to his pistol.
It didn’t come up like it was supposed to. It was rather difficult to draw a gun when your opponent had subtly re-applied the safety strap. Shock crossed his features as he looked down. By the time his eyes came back up, Silver Lining was aimed his way. Rarity neither smiled nor spoke, only met his alarmed gaze and dared him to try something.
Steam’s eyes darted to his companions. It reminded her of a beast looking for an escape. He didn’t take his hand from his gun, but neither had he undone the button holding the safety strap in place. After a few seconds of clear indecision, he tried to put some confidence back into his expression. “So, you plan to kill all of us?” The stiffness in his shoulders betrayed his cocky smile.
Rarity narrowed her eyes. “Perhaps not, but I’ll most certainly kill you.”
The confidence was snuffed out like a match, just like it had been for Roma. A small bead of sweat ran down the side of Steam’s face as he visibly swallowed. Rarity had him where she needed him. Just a little more pressure and he’d back down. The only drawback was his friends, who might not be so inclined to retreat when her gun wasn’t aimed their way. She did her best to keep her gaze focused strictly on him, even as she tried to watch the others in her peripheral vision. If they so much as twitched for their guns…
The motion came, and it was far more than a mere ‘twitch’. Rarity’s free hand snatched Ruby Heart out in a blur. The pony on the far left had just brought his rifle to bear when his stomach bloomed red. The rifle fired, and chaos erupted. Yet, to Rarity, it was all steady awareness. She’d never felt quite so calm in a gunfight before. She had only one thought on her mind: she would protect her family.
As the others scrambled for their weapons, Rarity took her next shot. Full Steam was already jumping aside by that time, but he still lost a chunk of his ear to a bullet from Silver Lining. She got one more shot from each gun, both landing solid hits on different ponies, and then it was time to retreat. Her heart leaped into her throat when she heard their weapons go off, but her shield came up just in time. The bullets pelting it an instant later were like tiny hammers trying to dislodge her brain from her skull. Once again, she silently thanked Shining Armor for teaching her proper energy dispersal. Her old shield would have shattered by now.
This one wouldn’t last very long, though. She spun around, startled to find her father gaping at the scene as if in a trance. With no time to waste, she shoved him back. It was easy despite his size. “Mother, get Papa!”
Wide eyed and pale, her mother rushed from where she’d been hiding behind the door and helped her haul the stunned stallion inside. Rarity slammed the door closed, gratefully letting her shield fall. If only Shining had taught her how to set one without constant maintenance! Now her skull was throbbing and she doubted she’d be able to pull up another anytime soon.
“Rarity,” her mother called, ears folded and lip trembling. “W-what’s going on?”
Without looking back, Rarity pointed with Ruby Heart for the door she knew was nearby. “Get in the kitchen with father.”
“But Rarity—”
“Now, Mother!” Noting a lull in the firing, she jumped up to one of the now-shattered windows and fired a shot from each gun. Misses, but the stallions outside dove for cover anyway. Not that the back fence would do much against bullets, but they were in no position to be picky. She followed the motion of one stallion and fired Ruby Heart, sending a bullet through the flimsy wood. A scream filled the air as she ducked back behind the wall and bullets flew her direction once more. Three down, five to go.
She glanced at the rest of the room and saw it empty, though her mother was gaping at the scene with one eye from around the kitchen doorway. Rarity guessed she’d have one more chance to fire on the back of the house before she’d have to head deeper inside.
Something brown and long flew through the other window, rolling to a stop on the floor. Dynamite.
Rarity rolled her eyes at her mother’s gasp. “Not this again.” Ignoring the sting in her horn, she snatched the sizzling stick up in her magic and tossed it back out the window. Startled shouts reached her ears just before the explosive went off, the blast shaking the house and sending pictures toppling off walls. As soon as the noise passed, she was in the window again, firing on those who hadn’t been stunned by the blast. One stallion’s throat poured blood. Another collapsed as a 45 caliber bullet ripped through his knee.
Turning on her heel, Rarity marched for the hall door, deftly changing Silver Lining’s cylinder without so much as a glance down. There came the sound of shattering glass and wood snapping. She passed through the hall and into the small foyer to see three burly earth ponies just beginning to recover from having burst through the front door and windows. The nearest two had just enough time to notice her presence before going down with a shot each.
The third decided to maintain her aggression, choosing to charge at Rarity instead of firing from a distance. The move caught her off guard and she barely managed to twist aside and avoid the shotgun blast. The mare hadn’t paused for the shot, and Rarity was still mid-turn when she was rammed.
The impact knocked her off her hooves and into the wall. She hit the floor shoulder-first, gritting her teeth against the pain and focusing instead on her enemy. The shotgun was already aiming her way, but a quick burst of telekinesis knocked the barrel sideways. The mare had enough sense to escape wasting a shot, but not to dodge; Ruby Heart and Silver Lining put holes in her hip and shoulder, respectively. The mare grunted, twisted, fell.
Rarity snatched her shotgun away with magic and turned it for the door just as a unicorn ran through, his dual pistols raised high. By the time he realized his opponent was actually on the floor, the shotgun unloaded its second round into his chest.
More shots came from outside. How many were left? Fear tried to trickle its way into Rarity’s brain, spurred on by the certain knowledge that she couldn’t keep this up forever. As she stood, she noted the faint purple glow coming from her necklace through her shirt. The sight soothed her, pushing her fears to the back of her mind and keeping her focused on the task at hand. Element of Harmony or not, I really must thank Coco for giving you to me.
The shotgun hit the floor, to be replaced by the two pistols her latest victim had just dropped. Retreating back down the hall and away from the hail of bullets, she began reloading Ruby Heart. It took a bit more of her attention than Silver Lining could, but she kept the pilfered pistols floating ahead of her. This proved prudent, because the instant they floated through the door into the living room somepony opened fire.
She didn’t dare fire back for fear of her shots going into the kitchen. Instead, she waited for the gunshots to cease. Still reloading Ruby Heart, she poked her head through the door, spotted Full Steam and a mare in the room, and used the floating guns to retaliate. Both dove behind the ugly couch, and as much as Rarity would love to put bullets in the thing she held back, knowing neither gun would penetrate it at this distance.
It wouldn’t be long before the ponies out front tried to get in again, but Rarity couldn’t leave these two near her parents. She would not be caught in yet another hostage crisis! With Ruby Heart reloaded, she entered the room and sent the two small pistols floating to either side of the couch, creating a crossfire. The guns fired simultaneously.
There came a scream, then a curse. Full Steam leaped over the back of the couch, only to freeze when he saw Rarity aiming Ruby Heart at his skull. His wide eyes locked with hers, his pistol held to the side where it had been when he’d jumped.
Rarity narrowed her eyes. “I warned you.”
Ruby Heart fired, and the stallion screamed. He dropped the gun and cradled his bleeding hand. Rarity heard the sound of hoofsteps and rushed forward, circling around Steam and placing him between her and the hallway. Ruby Heart pressed against the back of his skull while Silver Lining pointed to the door. A second later there came a short earth pony mare, who paused with shotgun at the ready. Rarity could make out two more ponies behind her.
“Don’t shoot!” Steam panted through the pain in his hand. “For Luna’s sake, hold your fire!”
Rarity hissed into his bleeding ear. “How likely are they to listen?”
“They’ll listen! W-won’t you guys?” His voice took on a whining quality.
The mare in the doorway seemed to be considering her options, her face set in an unpleasant grimace. One of the stallions behind her whispered in her ear. Her eyes narrowed on Rarity. Something told her these three might seriously consider gunning Steam down and claiming he was killed by Rarity in the fight.
“Let me make this simple,” she called over his shoulder. “The four of you can walk away right now and live to see another day. Or you can all die. Your choice.” She tapped Steam on the back of the head with the barrel of Ruby Heart. “This one already made one bad decision. I suggest—”
Abruptly, Full Steam dove to the left, leaving her exposed. Rarity reacted instantly, putting a bullet between the eyes of the mare before she had a chance to fire her shotgun. While the two behind her tried to get past the body as it fell, she hurried right, away from any potential attack from Steam. She looked over to see him diving behind the couch once more. She might have joined him had she not remembered the pistols she’d let fall back there, one of which he surely now had.
Rather than making herself a target, she retreated into the kitchen, passing through the door as a shot sent splinters of wood flying over her shoulder. She spotted her parents instantly, both by the door and brandishing iron skillets. By their frozen stances and gawking expressions, she doubted they were of any mind to use them. Seeing as they were taking up the best cover she could hope to get in this room, she promptly shoved an elbow into her father’s gut to push him back.
“Rarity!” Her mother clutched her pan to her chest as if her life depended on it. “What do we do? What do we do?”
Hoofsteps, coming fast! Rarity stepped back into the living room and took two shots with Silver Lining just as one of the stallions reached the door. The stallion dropped, and as he did she raised Ruby Heart and took another shot, hitting the second stallion’s shoulder before he could retreat back into the hallway.
A shot rang out, and a searing fire burned her left arm. Ruby Heart fell to the floor, but Rarity grit her teeth and fought through the pain. She jumped backwards on instinct just before a second shot rang out, and she swore she could feel the wind of the bullet at the tip of her muzzle. Arm held tight against her side, she dropped to one knee, pivoted, and fired the last bullet in Silver Lining.
Full Steam’s eye exploded, rocking his head back. His knees buckled, failed, and he fell sideways onto the couch, remaining eye wide and staring at nothing.
Silence. Rarity kept her gun aimed, even knowing it was empty. Her breathing came in slow gasps, her jaw clenched against the pain of her arm. Her ears swiveled one way, then the next. The quiet was interrupted by a picture on the wall falling to the ground, the glass shattering noisily.
Fleeing hoofsteps. The pony she’d hit in the shoulder, no doubt. With a groan, she stood up on wobbly legs. Silver Lining’s cylinder was replaced by magic. The ache this produced in her horn seemed only a minor nuisance compared to the fire in her arm. She moved for the back windows, stepping on the fallen curtains, and cautiously checked outside. Only bodies or ponies too hurt to get up.
Her father poked his head out of the kitchen. “Rarity?” He gasped at the sight of the blood on her arm. “You’re hurt!”
“Stay in there until I confirm they’re gone, please.” She ignored his gaping and stood next to the hallway door. A glance; it was empty. On to the foyer. No ponies here either, save the dead ones. A cautious glance outside revealed no threats. It was over.
But not for long. More would come, and they needed to be well away before that happened. She turned slowly, taking care not to jostle her arm too much, only to pause at the sight of her parents standing in the hallway. Her father’s shifting eyes spoke of confusion and horror as he observed her. “Are… are you okay?”
Part of her wanted to snap at them for ignoring her orders, but she knew it would amount to nothing now. Besides, it was a good question. Hissing through her teeth, she raised her arm and examined the wound. She couldn’t see it through her shirt, but she only saw blood coming from one side and she could still rotate it easily enough, pain notwithstanding. “The bullet didn’t go all the way through. We’ll have to pull it out, but I think I’ll be fine otherwise.”
He blinked. Swallowed. “H-how can you say that so calmly? You have a bullet in your arm.”
“Better my arm than my head,” she countered with what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Judging by how his face only grew more pallid, it had probably been more like a grimace.
Her mother shoved her way past him, pan still held tight against her chest. “Y-you killed them. You killed them! And th-they were trying to kill you. Why? Rarity, why?”
She snorted and put Silver Lining away. “If you’re quite done questioning the sincerity of my concerns, would you both please pack some things and go to the stable on Featherhead Street? We need to get out of here.”
Her father licked his lips and raised a trembling finger. “W-we need to fix that. You’re hurt.”
She took a closer look at her arm, then shook her head. “There’s no time. We’ll do it tonight. Right now we have to go.”
They didn’t move. Didn’t speak. They just stood there and trembled. At last, her mother managed to get words through her shaking lips. “But Rarity, we don’t understand. This Bulletproof Heart thing, we thought it was j-just a—”
Rarity shouted at the ceiling, making them jump back. “Be quiet and listen to me! Do you think I traveled all the way here from the Scorched Plains for a friendly visit? No! I saw your stupid ad in the paper and knew right away that the Bad Apple Gang intended to use you against me! I came back to save you, wading through mud and blood and shame to get here in one piece, and by the Sisters I am not going to fail even if I have to leave a trail of bodies in my wake. Which I did.” She kicked one of the bodies on the floor. Her parents flinched. “So unless you want to end up like one of these poor bastards littering the house and yard, you will stop talking, grab some provisions, and get your flanks to the stable!”
Ignoring their shocked expressions, she snatched Ruby Heart from the ground, topped off its clip, and stormed for the door.
Only to pause. She peered outside, examining the bodies. Earth ponies. Lots of earth ponies. She closed her eyes and listened intently. Something rustled overhead. Ruby Heart came out, pointed up, and fired.
There was a cry of pain, a few bumps and thumps, and then a pegasus dropped from the roof in a flailing heap in front of the door. He gripped his leg, face twisted and tears in his eyes. Paying no mind to the ongoing fire in her arm, Rarity kicked his shoulder, rolling him onto his back, and pressed the barrel of her gun between his eyes. “Are you bounty hunters or members of the Bad Apples?”
His glassy, frightened eyes met hers. Slowly, he raised his quaking arms in a gesture of surrender. “Apples. W-we’re Apples!”
Ah, good. That made things easier. “And who do you answer to?”
Sweat broke out on his forehead. He tried to speak once, twice, finally got something out on the third try. “I-I’m not supposed to say.” At her teeth-baring growl, he clenched his eyes tightly shut. “M-Mooriella! Mooriella runs the Mooisville sect!”
Her thoughts slowed as she took this in. “Are you saying a… cow is part of the Apple Family?”
His eyes darted to the gun still pressed against his forehead, then back to her. “She runs the Gang’s business in the Crystal Hills.” Seemingly as an afterthought, “Please don’t kill me.”
She’d never intended to, but wasn’t about to admit it. Instead she gave him her best glare, tempered by the pain still searing through her arm. It was getting pretty bad, like a fire growing hotter. “I want you to take a message for me. Tell Mooriella that the Bad Apple Gang can stop losing members if they would just leave me alone. I have done nothing but defend myself and my family, and I am tired of having to kill you ponies.” For this next part she lowered her voice and all but growled. “Can you tell her that for me, or will I have to send her your head with a note nailed to it?”
“I’ll tell her, I’ll tell her!”
Her insides churned at the fear in his voice, but she forced herself to smirk. “Then go.” She stood up, hissing at the pain in her arm as she did. By the time she used her magic to holster Ruby Heart, the pegasus had taken wing and disappeared among the rooftops. Once confident he was gone, she took a deep breath, let her shoulders go slack, and held her bleeding arm to her chest. Now she just had to go get Sweetie and—
A hand landed on her shoulder. In an instant, Silver Lining was out and pressed under the assailant’s chin. In another, she realized the wide-eyed face inches from hers was that of her mother. She leapt back with a cry, hurrying to point Silver Lining anywhere but at her own flesh and blood. “D-don’t do that! I could have killed you!” She cringed as her arm protested the sudden movement.
Her mother raised her arms as if to sooth. “Rarity, Honey, I need you to calm down. It’s over.”
She opened her mouth to offer a protest, but the energy left before she could voice one. Sagging, Rarity returned Silver Lining to its holster and failed to meet her mother’s gaze. “It’ll never be over, I think. This… This is my life now.” She closed her eyes tight, hand still clenched around the gun’s handle. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment.”
“Rarity.”
She became caught in the hard glare of her mother’s blue eyes. “You are as far away from being a disappointment as you can possibly be. I don’t understand what’s going on, and I’ll admit to being a little scared right now…” Her calm, commanding poise broke slightly when her eyes darted to one of the bodies in the yard for a fraction of a second. “But we’ll deal with that later. You’re our daughter, and we are nothing but proud, especially knowing what you must have gone through to survive this long.”
That last part was like a knife to the heart. It hurt almost as much as the bullet in her arm. “Y-you wouldn’t say that if you really knew.”
“Enough of that.” Her mother’s gentle hands cupped her cheeks, accompanied by a warm smile. “Now’s not the time for doubt. We have things to do. It’ll all be better soon.” She turned her head to call over her shoulder. “Hondo. See to Rarity’s wound.”
Only now did Rarity notice her father standing at the doorway. He appeared as if he might faint, what with his knees buckling and sweat running down his cheeks. His eyes were locked on one of the bodies now littering his backyard. “W-what? Wound?”
Her mother turned to him, catching his attention. “You had to learn medicine a bit while coaching, didn’t you? So medicate our daughter.”
Rarity shook her head, tried to step away. “I need to get—”
“Leave Coco and Sweetie to me.” When she looked Rarity in the face, she must have seen the argument forming. Just as Rarity started to open her mouth, she spoke over it. “Honey, you’re hurt and bleeding all over. Do you really think you can get to the school without drawing attention? Stay here, get that bullet out, and help your father gather supplies. You’ll know what we need better than we do anyway. I promise I’ll be quick.”
That was just like her. Even when she didn’t have a full grasp of the situation, she knew how to take control. And for once, Rarity was glad for it. She was so tired of making decisions. Perhaps her mother’s choice wasn’t the best, but Rarity couldn’t say, and she was too tired and hurt to argue. “Okay. But hurry, please. More may come, and we might not have a lot of time.”
Her mother nodded, then stepped forward to give her a one-armed hug, careful not to touch Rarity’s wound. “No matter what happens, I’m glad you came.”
Those words felt so much better than Rarity would have anticipated. They filled her with a fresh warmth and made her want to break down into tears all over again. But she settled for a nod and a little sniffle. “Th-thank you, Mother.”
A quiet hum of acknowledgement, and then she was gone, walking down the road at a brisk pace. Rarity watched her go, then looked to her father. He stared back, face slack and eyes lost. It was like he didn’t recognize her at all. As much as the thought ached, she couldn’t really blame him for it. “Papa, I…”
He shook himself as though coming out of a trance, but didn’t lose that hesitant, frightened manner. “Come on,” he said, his voice quiet and uncertain. “Let’s… let’s look at that arm.”
Rarity followed him inside in silence. They took one look at the couch and Steam’s still-warm body on it and promptly moved to the kitchen. At his gesture, she sat at the table and watched him search through the small pantry. His quiet, almost meek manner disturbed her. What was he thinking? Was he scared? Angry?
Maybe he was upset with the new direction her life had taken. He might not even see her as his daughter anymore. And why not? She was filthy, bloodstained, murderous. And a whorse, but he didn’t know that part yet.
Stop it, Rarity! You’re not a whorse.
Then how do you describe what you did with that mare in Hoofington?
You were drunk! It’s not the same thing!
Then why don’t I feel any less guilty about it?
“Y’know…”
She flinched and looked up. Her father stood at the door, a small brown box in his hand. “Y-yes?”
He shifted from hoof to hoof, unable to look her in the eye. “I’ve, uh, never had to remove a bullet before. Hoofball fields aren’t known for their gunfights.”
At that she managed a smile. A real one. “It’s going to be okay, Papa. You have steady hands. I trust you.”
His grip on the box tightened. “That’s part of what scares me.” Nevertheless, he sat down next to her and opened the box. “Arm on the table.”
She obeyed, stifling a groan at the pain even that small movement brought. Now that she was paying attention though, it really wasn’t half as bad as she’d always feared. Oh, it hurt – a lot – but compared to starving in the desert, getting lost in caves, or having to shoot an innocent sand lizard? Not to mention having her virginity stolen by some brute of a—Stop.
Point was, the physical pain was far more tolerable than the emotional, at least so far.
Her father had some tweezers in one hand and a small wooden stick in the other. His hands were still and the blood had rushed from his face once again. She reached over to touch his shoulder. “Are you alright?”
He started to nod. Stopped. “I never thought I’d have to pull a bullet out of my own daughter.”
His hesitance made her titter. “I have an idea of what you mean. Trust me, the faster we get it done, the easier it will be for both of us.”
He blinked and turned to her. “You’ve done this before?”
“Somewhat. I was the one pulling the bullet out.” She pressed her fingers to his lips, interrupting the inevitable question. “Papa, please. This really hurts and we don’t have a lot of time. I promise to tell you everything, but after the bullet is no longer in my arm.” That said, she took the stick from his hand and clamped it between her teeth.
Turning to the table, she pressed her arm against it and tried holding it in place with her good hand just above the elbow. It hurt, but hopefully it would keep her from moving too much. She didn’t look at him, not wanting him to know how fast her heart was beating now that she was about to face what Orchard had just a few days ago.
“Okay,” he muttered, using his free hand to hold the wound open. That alone made Rarity cringe, but she fought down the whine threatening to escape her throat. His horn flashed pale blue, and her entire arm was caught in his magical aura. It was held firmly in place, unable to so much as budge despite Rarity’s trial attempts. Why hadn’t she thought of that when dealing with Orchard?
Despite the nervousness he’d shown earlier, her father’s big hand was as steady and controlled as Rarity always remembered them. This didn’t make the tweezers slipping through the bullet hole hurt any less. She bit down so hard she thought she might break through the stick. A whimper squeezed its way out of her taut throat and her free hand clenched her arm so tightly her nails drew blood.
Her metaphors for fire seemed so hollow now. With her eyes tightly shut, she could almost imagine her arm really was ablaze! She could feel the tiny metal piece digging deeper, violating her flesh, searching for the prior invader. Stomping her hoof a few times, she idly wondered if cutting off the offending appendage might have been less painful. Every thought became devoted to absolutely not screaming!
As suddenly as it had started, it was over. Blinking through her tears, she caught a look at the bloody tweezers, a solid lump of metal caught in them. “I-Is that it?”
Her father nodded, tears in his own eyes. “Yeah. It didn’t take any cloth in with it, s-so that’s it.”
She slumped back in her seat with a groan. “I never want to have to do that again!” Noting how he rubbed his face, she asked, “Why are you crying? I was the one with a bullet in my arm.”
Without looking at her, he set the bullet aside and began rolling up her sleeve. “Should have done this to begin with. Not thinking. Stupid.” Noting her questioning look, he sighed. “I had to cause my daughter pain. It… It hurt, okay?”
At that, she gave him a smile, though she imagined it looked like a grimace given the pain hadn’t quite gone down yet. “You’re such a softie.”
“And you’re not the little princess I always thought you were.”
He might as well have punched her in the gut. “I… Papa, I didn’t mean…”
Noting her expression, he sighed and placed a hand on her neck. It was a familiar gesture, a loving one. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, Hon. I just need time to take it all in, okay?”
She placed her hand on his and closed her eyes, gently rubbing her cheek against it. It felt so good to be touched by somepony she could trust, somepony who wouldn’t make her feel threatened.
“I tried to be good, Papa,” she whispered. “I tried so, so hard.”
Scooting his chair closer, he wrapped his hand around the back of her head and pulled her close, pressing her cheek to his broad chest. “It’s okay, Honey. It’s gonna be alright. Whatever you had to do, it’s alright.”
Words. They were only words, nothing more. But for the first time since leaving Spurhoof, Rarity let herself believe them. She kept them close to her heart and tried to make it real, even if only for this moment. As the fresh tears filled her eyes, she breathed in his long-lost scent and let her fears fade away. Even she had to indulge in fantasy every now and then.
It didn’t last. He finally pulled away, and it was hard not to cling to him. “I gotta clean that,” he muttered before grabbing the towel in the emergency kit and going to the water basin in the corner. After soaking the rag and squeezing out the excess moisture, he sat down again and began carefully cleaning away the blood. To her relief, it appeared the worst of the bleeding had already stopped.
They shared a companionable silence as he worked. He got the bandages out and began wrapping her arm, but she stopped him when he tried to raise her arm up for bracing. “I might need to use that arm.”
He hesitated. “The wound won’t heal right if you don’t keep that arm still.”
She raised it herself, noting how the pain had mostly died down now that the bullet was out. She flexed her fingers and cringed at the sudden sting the motion produced. But she could still use them, and that was the important thing. “I’ll be careful, Papa. I won’t use it unless I absolutely have to. But if I’m caught in another fight, I’d feel much safer if I could carry a gun in each hand.”
“That’s—!” Lips working around his mumbles, he appeared to be fighting a war with himself. Apparently, one side won, for he sagged and nodded. “Okay, we’ll do it your way. I think it’s pretty obvious by now you know more about that kind of thing than I do.”
Thankfully missing her flinch, he resumed work bandaging her arm. “I never imagined that my little princess would have a talent for shooting. Fathers are supposed to be the ones protecting their daughters, not the other way around.”
She closed her eyes and bowed her head, accepting the nervous fear that trickled across the back of her mind. She thought about ponies she’d killed in the last few weeks alone. The memories flashed across her mind’s eye in a bloody parade.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t ever touch a gun. It’s one of the worst feelings I’ve ever known.”
He glanced at her, concern in his eyes. “You can’t ask me to let you fight alone.”
“Yes, I can,” she replied, calm and steady despite the throbbing of her arm as he finished bandaging her up. “I’ve already got the blood on my hands. I… I can take it. I can’t let you experience that kind of horror. You or Mother.”
His expression soured. She stood up before he could make an argument. “We don’t have time to discuss this. We have to start gathering—”
“They’re gone!”
They turned in unison to find her mother standing in the doorway, huffing and sweating as if she’d just sprinted a mile. Her eyes were wild as she leaned heavily against the wall.
Rarity was at her side even more quickly than her father. “What is it?”
“Who’s gone?” he demanded.
“Sweetie! C-Coco!” Rarity’s mother set a hand to her chest as she fought to get air. Tears were starting to stream down her cheeks as she looked between them. “They came to the school and took them away before I arrived. The teacher s-said they were hauled off at gunpoint and thrown into a wagon!”
Rarity was sure she heard her heart clunk against the floorboards. She stumbled back, legs wobbling, as the cold reality settled in. She’d been too slow, she’d not been good enough.
The Bad Apples had kidnapped her little sister.