//------------------------------// // Lights in the Darkness // Story: All The Little Rings // by Nines //------------------------------// Rust: “You’re looking at it wrong, the sky thing.” Marty: “How’s that?” Rust: “Well, once there was only dark. You ask me, the light’s winning.” From the final episode of True Detective, Season 1. Rarity woke up the next day, feeling as though she’d swallowed a tangle of snakes. She hadn’t even risen from the bed and already she felt trepidation for what lay ahead. It was a marked difference from the many mornings of recent memory. But today, she would not lose time being motionless amidst her sheets. She’d decided last night—after she’d been emptied of tears—that the bare minimum was no longer acceptable. This had inspired her to write on a new, blue strip: Standards. Always. She’d linked this with the purple strip just before stumbling off to bed. Now Rarity rose quietly and opened all the curtains in her room. She grimaced as the sunlight struck her. The burn drove her to her vanity dresser, glaring into the mirror. Into her own blue eyes.  She refused to walk away until she had reclaimed some of that pristine beauty she had once strived for every day. After some struggle, she managed something acceptable. Still, set against the radiance of her memories, her looks could not quite yet match the old standards. But they didn’t have to; that was the point, wasn’t it? Dash it all, anyway! We can find a new kind of splendor. Once downstairs, she made breakfast for the first time in a long while. She even washed the plates she used. With just a few minutes left before her boutique opened, Rarity took the time to perfect a ponnequin display, something she had neglected to do since her depression began. Then… The CLOSED sign flipped to OPEN. The customers came in slower that day—as they normally did on a hump day. Rarity smiled and greeted them all with as much warmth as she could. It was still a show. Still an act. Still just her going through the same motions in many ways. But her mind burned with thoughts of Twilight Sparkle, and this fueled her to make room for hope. The days trickled by painfully slow, leaving Rarity wondering if she’d go mad before she could see Twilight again. The paper chain she’d started that fateful night steadily grew until it no longer fit well underneath her service counter. Uncertain of where to keep it, she hung it on the wall of her gossip nook. The chain had grown intricate, making diamond shapes that connected neatly at the points. Each had something written on them. Some were simply words. Others were phrases. A hoofful of times, she’d managed to write in small print about a specific memory. Each time she thought she was done, something new came to mind. New new. Like… Wicked humor. Sarcasm. And… Mares. She’d pondered over the latter word a great deal. Did she only like mares now? Was that the truth of who she was?  No. It couldn’t be. Rarity frowned and added another paper link, right next to it. Stallions. Her frown deepened. Well, yes, but… Then her eyes lit up, and she wrote with a little smirk: Any bloody creature worth bothering with. All three linked together. She gave a little nod. That felt truer. There was a time she would have balked at such things… But when living seemed a bother, she came to realize that she was quite willing to explore new avenues. If it meant her life could regain its joy and wonder, then why not? Nevermind that she’d already set her sights on royalty. She was eating again, which (she supposed) was a good thing. Small meals for now, but she ate three times a day. Moreover, she hadn’t skipped a single day yet, so that was something.  When she looked at herself in her standing mirror, she realized she’d lost a lot of weight. She’d never noticed before, having failed to dress up or preen as she once did. She hadn’t lost so much that her bones were showing... yet. But it was still a stark change. Noticeable enough that she now understood the others’ alarm.  Her face was leaner, her flanks narrower. Her legs looked thin and frail. Who knew misery was such an effective diet? She actually laughed. Wicked humor, indeed. The gallows clattered in the back of her mind. Applause, perhaps. Still, the laughter was rare. She oscillated between aching sadness and the oppressive hollowness most of the time. Her front of normalcy wore her down, leaving her exhausted at day’s end. Sometimes, she even resented her work, wondering if she’d have been better off taking a vacation. She knew a vacation would have been dangerous, though. Too much time to think. The work kept her moving, and movement was life. Rarity willed herself not to dwell on the fruitlessness of things as she guided fabric through her sewing machine. She forced more smiles. And then to her surprise, a genuine smile appeared. It was an unexpected gift, blossoming when she’d given a little filly the cute-ceañera dress her mother had ordered her. That precious little dance of joy she did... The warmth in Rarity’s chest had felt good.  Then in a moment, it was gone. The hollowness was like a hungry black hole in her heart. Even these brief rises in spirit were swiftly swallowed. But in a way, she managed to see it in a positive light. After all, just last week she’d been an emotionless robot barely capable of crying. To feel anything on her own, especially positive things… I want to beat this. I want her to see how much I mean it when I say I want to be with her. That my desires can survive this awful episode! The wait... was still torture. It was nearing time to close her boutique again. Rarity listened politely to her final customer regale her with a flowery tale of love—and his hope to woo the object of his affections with a dashing outfit. A respectable feat, given the popularity of the mare, and how scrawny the customer was. She had already evaluated his needs ten minutes ago, but experience had taught her that sometimes fashion work was its own form of counseling. What customers didn’t want to be heard, anyway? One of her ears swiveled, however, when she heard the bell at the entrance chime. More customers? But it’s nearly closing time! A quick glance made her freeze. Fluttershy. Oh goodness…  Then quickly following behind her was a smiling Pinkie Pie. Rarity’s face fell. Oh, buck. She’d forgotten that Pinkie’s second charge for her happiness was forthcoming. And Fluttershy! What in the blazes was she doing here? They were both holding baking dishes. Rarity pouted. Once more with the food, I see! Is nothing sacred anymore? “Uh, hello?” Rarity jumped, looking at her customer in alarm. “Er, yes! Yes, my dear, I think I can help you.” The stallion brightened. “Really?” Rarity gave him a thin smile. “But of course!” She practically shoved a clipboard with an order form into his hooves. “If you’d please just fill this and leave it on the counter, I shall have a quote for you by tomorrow! Thank you!” Her last words came out in a nervous sing-song. That done, Rarity trotted briskly to her friends. They had gone to her kitchen and were setting down their dishes on the table. Fluttershy’s eyes practically glittered as she looked around Rarity’s now-clean kitchen. Pinkie Pie didn’t concern herself with the state of her surroundings. She hummed as she pulled the cover off of her baking dish. As Rarity neared, they both turned to her with smiles. “Hello girls,” Rarity greeted with a cautious smile of her own.  “Rarity! We brought you plenty of nummy stuff!” Pinkie Pie said, bounding over to give Rarity a tight hug. The unicorn bore this with a little sigh, and let her eyes drift upward for the briefest of moments. “Yes, I can see that.” When Pinkie stepped away, Fluttershy was swift to take her place and give a hug of her own, much gentler. “We thought you’d like dinner and dessert,” she said as she pulled away. Rarity arched an eyebrow. Perhaps Pinkie wasn’t leading the charge this time? Or maybe Fluttershy managed to convince Pinkie to include her—not that it would be hard to do with our rambunctious friend.  She took a deep breath, and on the exhale, felt the early flickers of irritation dissipate. Do not be ungrateful! They care. Their love for you has persisted, despite your distance and occasional snark. She could feel her throat clench with emotions: Love, but also some guilt. She felt undeserving of the effort. I am blessed with such good friends. “Dinner and dessert sound splendid,” Rarity said with some effort. She gave a little bow of the head. “Thank you for thinking of me. I know I’ve been… not myself as of late.” Pinkie blew a raspberry. “Aw, shucks. It’s no biggie! We just really wanted to visit you!”  She stepped aside and gestured dramatically with both hooves at her baking dish. “Voila! A batch of my famous Gooey Butter Cake!” Her mouth started to water as she eyed it. “It's got loads of butter, sugar, and sour cream—!” Fluttershy blushed a little as she pulled the cover off of her baking dish to reveal a rather dense-looking creation. “I brought a cheesy vegetable casserole. It’s not very famous, but my mom used to make it when I was feeling depressed, and it always managed to help me feel better.” Rarity’s eyes went round as she looked from the thick casserole to the slab of sugar Pinkie Pie called a cake. “This looks fattening—oh! Er, forgive me, I meant fabulous.” But her lips quivered at their furtive exchange of looks, and before she could stop herself, Rarity burst into laughter. When Pinkie started to giggle alongside her, Rarity laughed harder, tears coming to her eyes. Fluttershy didn’t laugh but smiled and blushed. “I suppose we were a little obvious.” Rarity wiped a tear from her eye. “A tad! Yes! With all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.” When the pegasus wilted, Rarity calmed down enough to nuzzle her. “Oh! Now, now, darling! I am not upset!” “I’m sorry for being such a bother, lately,” Fluttershy said with tense brow. “I was quite anxious, imposing on you as I did, but I was just so very worried!” Rarity hummed. “And I gave you every cause to worry. Never fear, Flutters. Whatever trespass you imagine occurred—I have already forgiven it.” She sighed dramatically and looked down at herself. “In fact, I’ve only recently become aware of my drastic transformation. It had never been my intention to lose so much weight in so little time! It explains at least some of my lack of energy.” Pinkie rubbed her hooves together, a devious glint in her eye. “We can fix that!” Rarity arched an eyebrow. “Don’t you dare go bringing me sweets every day! I shall regain my healthy figure with care.” “Aww! No fun!” Rarity smirked. Her horn glowed as she levitated plates and serving utensils to the table. “All right, ladies. What shall I get us to drink?” Perhaps it had just been her own paltry cooking, but when Rarity tasted her friends’ food, she could barely restrain herself.  She had hungrily devoured two massive slices of Fluttershy’s casserole and found she had been correct in guessing that it would be filling. But it wasn’t just filling—it was also comforting. Rarity felt transported to fillyhood with each flavorful bite. Back to the days when her own mother would make her potato soup after a beastly day at school. She was almost certain she had no space for dessert, but one small taste of Pinkie Pie’s utterly unhealthy, but horrifically delicious Gooey Butter Cake led her to eat three...whole...slices. By late evening she was feeling full and giddy.  After the dishes were washed, the trio chatted about everything and nothing at all. Then Pinkie suggested they play the word game, Ghost. One pony started with a letter. Then the next pony added the next letter. The goal was to avoid being the one who added the final letter to the emerging word. Whoever had the misfortune of being unable to add letters was then a step closer in forming the word “Ghost”, with completion of the game’s namesake resulting in that pony “vanishing” (being eliminated) from the competition entirely. To keep the game moving, they each had five seconds to think of something. Rarity wasn’t really feeling all that competitive, but she found herself very amused at the panicked expressions that crossed Fluttershy’s face, and Pinkie’s elaborate thinking strategies. She supposed her distraction was why she was on the verge of elimination. Fluttershy had reached the ‘O’ in Ghost. Pinkie only had a ‘G’.  The one time the party planner lost a round had been due to Rarity challenging her letter choice as even being part of a real word. “Pinkie, what the devil is a ‘swoof’?” Pinkie Pie’s smile curled. “Oh. You know. Swoof! It’s a verb.” Fluttershy’s eyes turned up in thought. “Hmmm… Is it maybe, ‘I swoof, you swoof, he—she—me swoof—’?” Rarity squinted one eye. “That doesn’t sound right.” Pinkie Pie gave herself away when she devolved into wild giggling. This latest round was proving to be intense. So far, they had spelled, “Gobbled”. For a moment, it seemed Fluttershy was about to get one step closer to losing when, at the last second, she thought to add a— “Y!” she squealed with big circle eyes, her wing feathers fluffing. “Blast! And here I thought the gap would start to close,” Rarity said with feigned despair, a dramatic hoof pressed to her chest. Pinkie Pie rubbed her temples, her eyes squeezed shut as she hummed out what she had claimed was a special yak meditation. It honestly just sounded like she was attempting to sing a Hearth’s Warming carol whilst also trying to remove peanut butter from the roof of her mouth. Just before she hit her time limit, she cried out with a grin and a little hop, “G!” Rarity didn’t even pause. “O.” She took a leisurely sip of her licorice tea. She had a feeling she would need a stomach remedy after all that food. Fluttershy pressed her hooves together anxiously. “Um, um… O?” Pinkie rocked from side to side, to the point that the chair squeaked and tilted beneath her. Then, with a cheer: “K!”  Rarity leaned her cheek on a manicured hoof, a lazy smile on her lips. “Pinkie, I’m afraid that sounds an awful lot like a finished word.” Pinkie blinked at her. “‘Gobbledygook’... Huh! You’re right. That means I’m one step closer to becoming a spoooooky ghost!” She waved her hooves and adopted a sinister smile. “OooOOooOOooh!” Fluttershy shrank in her seat. “Um, speaking of scary things, c-could we maybe turn on a few more lights? Pretty please?” She smiled weakly. The kitchen light had been on for a while now, but it was not particularly strong. Rarity looked behind her, through the archway that led back to her boutique, and realized that it was nearly pitch black in her shop. Oh, poor thing! “I’ll get some lights on, darling. Fear not!” Rarity’s horn lit as she turned on some of the lamps in the boutique space. She heard Fluttershy sigh with relief behind her. “Thank you!” the pegasus said, sitting up straighter. She cocked her head to the side and looked between her friends. “Also, I was kinda hoping we could use paper to write our letters from each round going forward?”  She stroked her hair with a small blush. “The last three rounds had words that were more than ten letters and it got a little confusing.” Pinkie Pie shrugged. “I’m fine with it. We could even use it to keep track of each other’s Ghost!” Rarity thought for a moment. I believe I’m out of index cards. Although… Her eyes brightened, and from her gossip nook, she levitated Twilight’s basketful of paper strips into the kitchen. “Will these do?” she asked with a self-conscious tuck of the chin as she set the basket down onto the table. Pinkie oohed as Fluttershy leaned forward. “Wow! So many strips! Did you do all of these yourself, Rarity?” the pegasus asked. Rarity felt her hide glow hot. “Yes, I did. I’ve been using it for an… experiment.” She levitated several strips from the basket, as well as the pen she’d been using to write on them. With her magic, she began to write each of their “Ghost” progress. She took another small stack of strips and set these in the center of the kitchen table. “What kind of an experiment?” Pinkie asked. “Is it a kooky one? I like kooky experiments!” Rarity allowed for a sad little smile. “Perhaps it isn’t kooky, Pinkie, but it could certainly be called silly.” “Would it have anything to do with that pretty paper chain I saw over your gossip nook?” Fluttershy asked. “Huh?” Pinkie scratched her head, one ear drooping. “There was a paper chain?” “Yes, actually.” Rarity looked down at the table, a little frown on her face. Should she tell them? “It’s looking beautiful so far, Rarity,” Fluttershy said with a little smile. “I especially like the diamond shapes! My paper chains never seem to come out so even.” “Is the diamond shape part of your experiment?” Pinkie asked. Rarity shook her head. “Not necessarily. The pattern was just an aesthetic choice. I did discover, however, that it allowed me to easily group together ideas.” “Like what kinda ideas?” Rarity gazed between her friends. They were both looking at her intently, their ears perked with interest. She looked away, the fist of her self-doubt rising with vengeance up into her throat. She fought to speak around it. “Aspects of who I am. You see I’ve…” she sighed and closed her eyes. “Part of my recent depression has been struggling with the sense that I’ve lost myself. I do not feel the same.” A bitter twist pulled across her lips.  “Or as good. This experiment of mine was meant to help me visually grasp who I am, and maybe reclaim some of what I’ve lost.” She peeked at them sidelong. “Does that… sound too odd?” The other two mares shook their heads adamantly. “Sound odd? Goodness no!” Fluttershy touched a hoof to her chest, her brow furrowing. “Remember when you asked me to run your Manehattan shop for a day? I discovered so many different sides to myself! It was very stressful and confusing.” She slouched, remorse pulling her features down. “And then, of course, there was that awful time I listened to Iron Will and let my aggressiveness run amok...” Rarity’s eyes widened. “Sweet Celestia, how could I have forgotten all of that?” “Ooh, ooh!” Pinkie waved her hoof like she was a filly at school. “And remember waaaay back when I found the Mirror Pool, and the herd of Pinkies were all like, ‘I’m the real Pinkie!’ and I was like, ‘No, I am!’ But then I got waaaay confused and was like, ‘Gee, am I the real one?’” She chuckled, sitting back with an air of fond reminiscence. “Yeah. That was a pickle.” Now Rarity’s ears drooped. “What is wrong with me that I couldn’t remember you both went through those experiences? I was so certain nopony would understand!” Fluttershy slid out of her chair and came around the table. She sat and took one of Rarity’s hooves into hers. “Sometimes, when we’re hurting, we lose sight of things.” She stroked the unicorn’s fur and smiled gently. “But that’s why friends are there to remind us.” Pinkie bounded over to Rarity’s other side, grabbing her in another tight hug. “Yeah, Rares! And you should never feel afraid to talk to us! We care tons about you!” Rarity could feel her eyes begin to tear up. She tried to open her mouth to speak but found she didn’t dare, lest she became a sobbing mess. How many times this week have I cried? It feels like… She felt her friends press in and hold her, and she nuzzled them both, the tears slipping silent down her cheeks and matting her fur. It feels like my heart’s starting to work again. After her tears had subsided, Rarity had urged them to finish their game. Pinkie won, of course, but it was hardly the point. They laughed. She laughed. She felt whole and normal. Rarity was happy, and the hungry void was absent. Her friends had gathered their things and were on their way to the door. She followed after them, smiling. Her smile waned a little when Fluttershy paused and looked at the paper chain hanging on the wall. “Is something the matter, dear?” Rarity asked. Fluttershy bit her lip, then looked at her. “I was wondering… Would it be okay if we added something to your chain?” Pinkie hopped next to her, “Neat-o! I like that idea!” Rarity’s eyebrows rose. She thought quickly: My! What a suggestion! I… suppose my original hope had been to gain a personal understanding of myself, but perhaps such a thing isn’t truly possible without some input from loved ones? Her friends regarded her with open, kind expressions. What observations would they make, I wonder? That I’m a good friend? That they like me? She snorted inwardly. Come now, give them a little more credit! Don’t make the mistake of underestimating their depth again! She peered studiously at Fluttershy, then at Pinkie. Still, I wonder… Now, anxiously so. What do they see in me? She ran her teeth over her bottom lip, just managing to stop herself from outright chewing. Tonight has already demonstrated my depression has left me with glaring blind spots. Her lip stiffened. Well then, enough shilly-shallying! Let us reveal the unknown. Rarity took a deep breath, then smiled. “Yes. I’m fine with that.” She levitated the pen and two strips over. Pink for Pinkie Pie. Yellow for Fluttershy. They each took a moment to look over her paper chain so as not to do a repeat entry. After, it took very little time for them to think of something to write down. When they handed Rarity the strips, her cheeks blushed. Fluttershy had written, Helps others discover their inner beauty. Pinkie’s said, Super DUPER Generosity! Rarity’s eyes misted once again, but she sniffled back the tears, and silently hugged her friends instead. I am truly blessed.