//------------------------------// // Chapter One: Rarity // Story: Her Shimmering Sunset // by Soufriere //------------------------------// The warm air of the moonless summer night was filled with the incessant trills of cicadas, barely muffled by the windows of Rarity’s bedroom. Not that she would have cared anyway as she paced a tight circle around the middle of her room, her face contorted into a perpetual scowl with furrowed brows. She muttered, barely audible or coherent even to herself. At some point, her younger sister Sweetie Belle had entered the room and sat on the bed, face illuminated by the glow of her phone which she tapped rapidly when she was not observing Rarity, her two-tone pink-&-lavender hair (almost as long as her big sister’s violet coif) just barely touching the overstuffed comforter as it brushed against the back of her white child-sized nightie, which she was obviously outgrowing in nearly all directions. “Big sis, you’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep that up,” Sweetie said, her eyebrow raised. “You’re acting like someone who didn’t have a massive ‘Sweet Eighteen’ party thrown for her two days ago.” This was enough to knock Rarity out of whatever dimension her brain was in and jolt her back to reality, though not enough to interrupt her miniature revolution. “Sweetie, dear. How long have you been here?” Rarity asked with a tinge of surprise. Sweetie Belle shrugged. “Five minutes? An hour? I haven’t looked at the clock, not even on my phone. I was more interested in seeing if you would get dizzy and fall over.” She sighed in defeat. “Now I owe Scootaloo five Bux.” Rarity shot an irritated glance over to her sister. “I’ll take that,” she snipped as, in one fluid motion, she swiped Sweetie Belle’s smartphone out of her hands and immediately returned to pacing. Sweetie looked at her empty hand for a split second before yelping, “Hey! Give it back!” “No,” Rarity replied curtly. “I shall not accept you or your friends making wagers upon my misery.” Sweetie cocked her head. “Misery? What, uh, level of misery are we talking about here? Because if this is like the time you accidentally bought an outfit with mismatched colours, I’m going back to bed.” Rarity sighed. “‘Tis the misery of a tortured heart, sweet sister.” Sweetie blinked. “You’re talking about Sunset Shimmer, right?” At that, Rarity stopped in her tracks and gasped, her eyes going wide. “How could you possibly know that?!” “Everyone knows. Well, everyone except Pinkie Pie,” said Sweetie, rolling her eyes. “You’ve been pretty bad at hiding it. Were you even trying?” Rarity pursed her lips into a pout. “And how long have you known?” Scratching her chin in thought, Sweetie replied, “I thought it first when you stole Sunset’s scooter…” “Sassy,” Rarity interrupted. “…and then took it back to her in the middle of the night. You really thought I’d be able to sleep through the motor revving and your cussing at it? At least mom and dad are heavy sleepe— Hang on. Sunset Shimmer named her scooter?” Rarity shrugged. “She names many inanimate objects she owns. I think it’s cute.” Sweetie continued, “But what really got me was when you took those model photos that look like the ones from dad’s magazines he pretends he doesn’t have, in nothing but your underwear and one of my shirts.” At that, Rarity gasped and then glared. “How did you even know about those?” “Hey, you’ve read my diary,” retorted Sweetie, “It’s only fair I snoop in your bag every once in awhile. Now we’re even.” Deflated, Rarity slowly moped over to her bed and flopped into it. Sweetie took her phone back the second she was able but set it aside as Rarity unconsciously leaned onto her. Sweetie had to brace herself to keep from being pushed over. Even with her big sister’s dead-weight on her, she bore a look of concern as she continued to pry. “Why? Why her?” Sweetie asked. “I don’t know,” was all Rarity could say in reply. “You remember what she did to you. I sure can’t forget.” Sweetie Belle walked into her big sister’s room, placing her backpack full of elementary school textbooks by the door. Rarity lay on the bed face down, bawling into her pillow, her shoulder-length hair fanning out in all directions. “Big sis, what’s wrong?” Sweetie asked, her high-pitched voice almost masking her obvious worry. “I’ve never seen you like this before.” Rarity slowly turned her head. “It’s over. It’s all over,” she cried bluntly. “What is?” asked Sweetie. “I…” Rarity sniffed, “I’ve lost all my friends. The disaster that was Spring Fling won’t leave me be! The flyers, my dress… Everyone who doesn’t laugh at me ignores me. All I wanted was… just… I cannot take it anymore.” “Big sis…” “I… want to die.” Not knowing what else to do, Sweetie Belle climbed into bed and wrapped her small skinny arm around her older sister, which only made Rarity cry harder. “Why, Sunset?” Rarity eventually choked out, her own voice emitting a remnant youthful squeak. “What did I ever do to you?” “Who’s Sunset?” asked Sweetie delicately. “For months,” Sweetie Belle recalled, “For months, you were a complete wreck. Mom and dad took you to therapy, put you on those pills that made you…” “I thought we agreed never to speak of that again,” Rarity growled. “Sorry,” Sweetie said with a nod. “Anyway, how could you possibly fall in love with the girl who literally ruined at least a year of your life?” Her pale green eyes bore deep into Rarity’s soul, her expression a whirlwind of emotions – anger, shock, worry, admiration, disgust. Rarity provided in return only guilty certainty. “Because… I saw her hit rock bottom,” Rarity finally replied. “She reminded me of myself freshman year, and… no one should go through that, not even Sunset, regardless of how much she may ‘deserve’ it. I had already decided to attempt to be her friend. As it turns out, once knocked off her pedestal, Sunset is a true sweetheart, and I was glad to help her rejoin the world.” Sweetie Belle nodded slowly, her expression grim. “Okay, so… do you like her just because she needs you? That’s kind of sick.” “No!” Rarity near-screamed. “I love her because we understand each other, she’s kind, pleasant to be with, and…” she blushed, “her body is amazing.” At that, Sweetie stared at her sister, her eyes bulging so wide one might expect them to pop out of her skull. Her jaw hung slightly agape. After a moment during which her brain essentially rebooted, Sweetie spoke again. “You know mom and dad will never be okay with this.” “I know.” “I can’t say I’m okay with it either, but… I know Sunset’s trying to be nicer and make up for years of being so nasty. I guess I owe it to her to not stand in your way,” Sweetie concluded. Rarity slumped her head. “There’s… one more problem.” “What’s that?” “I don’t know if Sunset likes me back. She… seems to believe my crush is on some random boy.” “What?!” Sweetie asked, her voice squeaking again. “You’re joking! How can a girl who won so many academic trophies for CHS be so dumb?” Rarity shrugged. “She told me she feels unworthy of being loved by anyone. Flash, her ex-boyfriend—” At that, Sweetie interrupted again. “Does she even like girls?” “Well, I certainly didn’t think I swung that way until Sunset came along. And it’s only her. Otherwise I’m still attracted to boys. You think I don’t still notice Flash’s looks or Bulk’s muscles?” Rarity asked. “But Sunset is different. Better.” “You know,” Sweetie said slowly, “When you read my diary and we talked about my crush on Button Mash, you told me it was nothing but puppy love, a ‘youthful dalliance’, I think you said. And… you were right. He’s just a kid. How is what you’re feeling now any different?” “Well, for one, we’re older. I’m not quite sure how old Sunset is, exactly, but we’re certainly not junior high schoolers,” said Rarity. “Uh-huh,” Sweetie replied, unconvinced. Rarity shut her eyes tight, planting her fist against her forehead. One could almost see the gears in her head attempting to turn. “Love…” she finally said, “is more than just thinking someone is attractive. It’s a jumbled mess, really. You feel comfortable when your other half is around; you worry when they’re gone. Communication barriers break down. You understand them, warts and all. They understand you. Everything is lain bare, yet you persist in the face of that. That’s what I learned, Sweetie. Love is not fireworks; those fade all too quickly. It’s mundane. Simple talk over making a pot of tea. Arguing over who’s going to pay the bill at the Burrito Barn. Laughing together at terrible daytime TV. Sitting on the roof, staring at the setting sun and saying nothing at all. Feelings of comfort, safety. Knowing that you will be there for each other. The warmth of a metaphorical blanket enveloping you even when the warmth of the body is absent. That is how I feel with Sunset having re-entered my life. My only hope is that she feels the same way.” “And if Sunset really is that oblivious, how do you expect to get your feelings across to her?” Sweetie asked. Rarity sighed. “Obviously the indirect approach has not worked, to put it mildly. Flash told me I would have to hit her over the head seventeen times with a blunt object.” “Do it,” Sweetie Belle said flatly. “Where oh where did my adorable baby sister go?” Rarity opined as she shook her head. Sweetie Belle put her arm around Rarity’s shoulder. “I’m not a baby anymore, no matter how much everyone may want me to be. Like it or not, I get to grow up too. I’m glad, because now I don’t feel helpless whenever you’re in a mood like this.” Several minutes of silence followed before Rarity finally spoke. “Thank you, Sweetie. You really have grown up, faster than I expected.” Sweetie shrugged. “I had to, to be here for you, and my friends. Now, when are you going to confess to Sunset? I’ll provide the blunt object…”