//------------------------------// // Tales of a Monster // Story: A Simple Story // by Sabellion //------------------------------// He bit the corner of his lips as a wave of nausea and nervousness rolled across his body. He was before the door, her door, and it was just like he remembered it. The soft white paint was draped across the channels and lines in the grain of wood, and the gilded golden handle was scuffed and scratched, but reflected his trembling, outstretched limb and clenched brow. He could remember her humming in a soft voice that made even his stoic mouth smile, made his eyes strain as they held back tears unbecoming of a gentlecolt; but no music came out now. She was inside. She was in there, going about her day as if nothing was wrong. But he knew.   The little cream-colored sign in her window was switched over to display the light black cursive font that read: Open. It would be a surprise. Just walking here, from all that way aways. He could open it and they would talk, and everything would be okay with the world. He could find out why, cut the silence and find answers. He opened the door, the dainty ring of the silver bell sounding across the atrium. She came around the corner, each sharp strike of her hoof against the tile nailing his heart to his spine. Rarity spoke in that sick, sweet voice that he had come to know. “Welcome to the Carousel Boutique, where every-“ Her sapphire eyes had opened, and she stopped, as though a tape or movie that had been put on pause, perfectly in place. And she was beautiful, just as he remembered her. Her lavender mane was curled around her face, casting a soft shadow across her muzzle, and her white teeth shone out from her mouth that was currently caught open. “Silverblood.” She said. The sweet honey of her voice soured. Her hoof lowered to the ground, as she cemented herself as a statue. He stared at her. “Rarity.” The stallion said, with a gulp. “What do you want?” Rarity said, “Why are you here?” “I…” Blueblood’s eyes fell away from hers, and then to her shoulder, where a line of recently stitched together gashes caught his eye. “My goodness, what happened? Are you alright?” Rarity glanced at her old wound and turned so that it was no longer visible to her husband. “I am fine, now tell me, why are you here?” “C-can we sit down?” Her jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed. “No? I…” “Just spit it out.” Silverblood sighed, “I’m sorry.” “You’re sorry?” Rarity said, one incredulous eyebrow arched high on her forehead. “Yes. I’m sorry. And I wanted to talk.” “You want to talk.”  Her voice was flat. “Yes, explain things, talk to you, and beg for forgiveness,” Silverblood said, “Whatever it takes.” “You think that begging and groveling will fix what you did?” “No, but if I could just explain-“ “Because you can somehow justify cheating?” “No, I-“ “Then what are you going to try to do?” Rarity said, “I don’t know what you thought you were going to do by coming here. I already-“ “Filed. I know. I know and that’s why I’m here. I thought…” He shook his head, his mane rolling to the other side of his head, “I thought, I don’t know. I thought maybe you would go away for some time, that you needed space and that we could talk this out and-“ “You thought I just needed time? Truly?” Rarity said, “What in Celestia’s Mane would ever give you the idea that I would do such a thing? You…you broke my heart, Silverblood. You betrayed my trust, and there is no going back from that.” He took a step forward, and she took a step back, as if they were dancing. There was only thirty feet between them, and if he thought of it like that, then it might be easier. “Why did you come here, Silverblood?” Rarity said, “What could you have hoped to achieve?” “I wanted to save us, whatever,” Silverblood waved his hoof through the air, “this is. I wanted to explain. I wanted…” His voice trailed to a close. Rarity could almost take pity on the stallion. Here he was, the once noble and glorious princeling, brought into her looking no more than a scamp; his mane was tossed around his head in frayed, bleached knots and unkempt ends; his clothes were stained and crumpled, smelling vaguely of cheap cider; and his once brilliant blue eyes had become dulled and bloodshot. The bags beneath his eyes, puffy and red, stood like banners hanging over a castle wall against his gray coat.  Silverblood ground his teeth together, pulling the threads of himself tight to keep the cloth of his facade intact. He inhaled the smell of recently cleaned floors, heavy curtains, and her; the perfume of her skin that traced his nostrils and even now made his heart stammer. “Can we please just talk?” He said. “Don’t I deserve that at least?” Rarity’s head lowered as she let out a long sigh. Her horn glowed and the sign on the window flipped over. “Fine.” The stallion smiled and took another step forward. “But I am busy, Silver. So, let’s get through this quickly.” “Okay.” Silverblood said, “That’s fair.” “Spit it out then.” He rubbed the back of his head, “I’m sorry. Truly, deeply sorry, Rarity. I knew it was wrong, and nothing I can say or do will ever fix what I did.” “Why did you do it then?” “I don’t know.” Silverblood said, “It just…happened. I was lonely, I was hurt. We were falling apart, even if we never talked about it.” “What are you talking about?” Rarity said. “For the last two years, you’ve been distant from me. You-“ “Why didn’t you say anything?” “Because I…I don’t know!” Silverblood stomped his hoof and turned away, “I thought talking about it would push you away. I thought that maybe it was all in my head. I thought that you were just busy with your work.” “And cheating was your answer?” “I didn’t mean for it…I just…she was there for me, while you spent ten, twelve-hour days at your shop, and things just…happened,” Silverblood said. “So you’re blaming me?” “No, no.” Silverblood said, “I’m trying to explain myself here.” The stallion sighed, as he walked past Rarity and stared out the window, leaning against the door jamb. “She kissed me one day. I didn’t say anything to you, because I thought that it would be the end of it. “ “When did this happen?” “About a year ago.” Rarity’s stomach turned over. “A year? You’ve been….for a year?” He couldn’t turn to face her, preferring instead to stare at the grit in the tiles of the floor. “Who is she?” Rarity said. “Does it matter?” Silverblood said. With a sigh, he relented. “She’s a servant up at the palace, and has done some work for us in the past.” “She worked for us. And she knew you were married?” Rarity asked, taking a step forward. “All of that matters. I’m revolted at the idea that she came into our house under my nose. How could you do that? What kind of pony are you who can hold a secret like that for years under your own nose, behind the back of your wife?” “Come now, Rarity, it’s not like you’re spotless.” “I beg your pardon?” “You think I don’t know? I didn’t hear?” Rarity swallowed, gulping down the saliva that had collected at the back of her throat. “I don’t know what you’re referring to, Silverblood. But I didn’t-” “Do I need to just come out and say it?” “Enlighten me, Silverblood!” “You defiled yourself with that dragon friend of yours.” “W-what?” “That night, when we went clubbing, I had to leave. I left one of my entourage behind to keep an eye on you.” “You were spying on me?” Rarity said, aghast, “I’m sorry, but how-” “To keep you safe!” Silverblood shouted. “To make sure no creep took advantage of you! Sorry for being concerned that my beautiful wife, who never goes to clubs is unaware of the freaks and creeps out there who might hurt her!” “Are you calling me naive?” “I’m not saying-” Silverblood brought a hoof to his head and closed his eyes, letting himself take a moment and a breath of air before continuing. “I’m saying that it was never your world. Your world was art, and beauty, and a little town with friendly and caring people. I just wanted to keep you safe, keep you...unharmed by the darker intentions of cruel ponies.” “I am not a damsel in distress for you to save, Silverblood. I’ve been to far corners of the world, and I’ve fought actual darkness incarnate. I don’t need your protection, no matter how thoughtful or charmingly you state it.” “Then I apologize for trying to keep you safe. But that still doesn’t- you left with a dragon!” “He was a friend.” “That's not how my source put it. He was crooning over you the entire time. You danced together, intimately.” “I know that is how it looks, but-” “He took you back to our home.” “And your, how did you put it, ‘source’ followed us?” “You had wine, drinks, a fire.” Rarity’s jaw clenched, replaying the night in her head. “And…and he saw the two of you. Bodies...entwined. On the couch, off, his hands running along your side and haunches.” Rarity remembered his touch upon her, claws brushing through her mane, her fur. Little moans. Shivers and gasps. She trembled, unable to speak as Silverblood took another step toward her. “Tell me, Rarity, what does that sound like to you? What does it look like? What happened that night? Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Silverblood scoffed, “When my stallion told me of that, I couldn’t even breathe. I came home, expecting you to say something, anything, but that was the first time you shut me out. You kept me away.” “So, it’s my fault. Like you said before,” Rarity said, eyes getting wet. Part of her believed it. You’ve been a naughty filly, Rarity. You pushed down that night and locked it away and never wanted to think about it again. Not because of Spike, but because you knew it was wrong. You’ve always known. Silverblood sighed. “No. Look, it was...both of our faults. A marriage is a difficult thing, it has bumps and trials and tribulations, but we can move past this. We just...need to be honest with each other.” “The truth then?” “The truth. I’ve said mine. You tell me yours.” Rarity gulped again and then motioned for Silverblood to follow her. Someplace they could sit. So she explained. From the doughnuts to Spike’s insistence. Her disappointment that he chose to leave her all alone in a club. To the fireplace, and wine, and tender intimate moments by the fire. “But we never did anything, Silverblood, I swear,” Rarity said, as she wiped away a tear, “I swear to you about that. He tried to kiss me, but I threw him out, I refused to be unfaithful.” Silverblood nodded. He was deep in thought. He looked to her shoulder, again, claw marks visible. He narrowed his eyes. "And what is that?" Rarity opened her mouth, "Nothing really." "Don't play coy, I can tell those are the marks of claws. Did someone hurt you? Are you..." "I'm fine, SIlverblood. It wasn't intentional. They would never do that to me." "Un-unintentional?" Silverblood leaned in, "You...those are dragon claws, aren't they? Did you...? Once you found out you thought-" "Be silent, Silverblood. No. That isn't what happened. He was hurt, and I had to carry him." "How was he hurt?" Rarity blinked. "I...I don't know. He was the one for whom the funeral was for, but he survived. And he found his way here, to me." "Why did he come to you?" "I don't know, Silverblood. But with the state he was in, I couldn't just leave him. He would have died," Rarity said, "And besides, he is my friend." "Fine. I trust your word. But then the question...what happens now?” “After all this? All this...damage?” Rarity asked, "Your accusations, and explanations?" “Will you come back to Canterlot with me?” Rarity blinked. “N-no.” She reaffirmed herself, held her head high, even though her make-up was ruined, and her nerves were frazzled. “No.” “I thought-” “That just because you had a suspicion I was unfaithful that this somehow...entitled you a year of bedding some filly, like this is a childhood game of tit-for-tat? That you deserved to be forgiven for lying? For desecrating our home, our bed?” “You lied as well,” Silverblood, “Lies by omission are still lies.” “You never asked, and nothing happened, Silverblood. I didn’t need to explain anything. It wasn’t right, I’ll grant you. Improper, but not elicit. Maybe in your next relationship, you’ll start by communicating your concerns, instead of charging into having extramarital relationships.” “So what does that mean, for us?” “It means...that this is over, Silverblood. I loved you. But you broke my heart, and I can’t trust you like that ever again.” “Rarity, please.” “No, Silverblood,” Rarity put her hoof down, “Please, leave. You can expect to hear from my lawyers soon.” Silverblood closed his eyes, his face scrunching up as he attempted to fight back all the emotions that turned in his stomach and chest like a tempest at sea. “I love you, Rarity.” “You should know he said that to me as well as if it excused his disrespect of my relationships and life. I’ll tell you what I told him. We had something once, and we may still remain friends. But...did you honestly think that a simple conversation would change things?” “I don’t know Rarity,” Silverblood sighed, “I don’t know.” Rarity hummed in affirmation.  “That’s exactly what he said. Goodbye, Silverblood” -------------- X ------------- “As per the signed agreements made in your prenup, you’ll be receiving…” Rarity’s eyes glazed over. The stallion across the table had spoken in the same droll for the past hour and a half. Her own lawyer would respond in his own monotone, and papers would be thrust before her. Silverblood didn’t even appear. “My client would rather this not go to trial…” How had it all come down to this? Rarity’s gaze finally fell, alongside her bored expression. She could not remember. It was all a blur of passion, romance, and tangled limbs. It was her first day in Canterlot, when her friends had decided to take her out on the town, get her connected to new ponies, new places. He was in the middle of the dance floor, all white spats and arrow collars. He looked like a million bits-hell, he was at least worth thrice that. She remembered his lips, warm and rough against hers. She could still feel his breath on her neck, the way she trembled under his grasp. Were there others like that? Was there to be another? Another who she will have had unknowingly, unwillingly, shared a bed with? Would he tell them that he loved them? Would he nibble on their ears, and play them like an instrument and he was the maestro? Would they ever feel as empty as she did now, realizing it was all a lie? She looked back up at the lawyer, who was nodding to something her’s was saying. She’d met him maybe three times before, and she understood that he was close with Silverblood. He was a machine that ran on legal code, and he knew his client well. Silverblood knew exactly how to handle anything, and how to walk away without a scratch. “Does this sound good to you, Ms. Rarity?” Rarity looked over at her lawyer, who gave a curt nod. She smiled and said, “Yes, of course.” “Then we’ll have the paperwork submitted to the court tomorrow morning. After the initial waiting period, we’ll place this into records, and soon after you’ll be legally divorced.” The lawyer said, “By law, you are to be made aware that this will not be legally binding until the waiting period is over, thirty days from now. At any point during this period, this paperwork can be annulled through a written agreement made by both parties.” “Ms. Rarity, do you wish to file a restraining order to place between you two?” Her lawyer asked. “There’s no need to be making enemies, darling.” Rarity said. “Of course. Sign here, please.” “Need I do anything else?” Rarity asked. Her lawyer shook his head, and reached across the table and shook the hoof of the other lawyer. He then shook Rarity’s hoof. Just another busy day it seemed. Another busy day, another nagging voice in her head telling her to do something. She wasn’t sure what that something was. The meeting ran over, making the rest of her day run late. Then again, when wasn’t Rarity running late? Between filing papers for the divorce, moving Sassy Saddles back to hold down the Canterlot Boutique, and packaging and shipping her favorite designs to the Carousel in Ponyville, she was positively swamped. So, when Twilight Sparkle up and walked through the door while she was currently working on appointment number sixteen of the day, she was little more than stressed out. “Hey, Rarity.” The princess said, face full of smiles, “How are you today?” “Princess Twilight!” the stallion said, with a start. “It’s an honor.” He bowed. Rarity sighed, levitating a tape measure across the small of this stallion’s back, again, all while chalking down numbers on a little clipboard. “A little busy, Twilight. You understand.” “I’ll just wait until you’re finished then,” Twilight said, as she crossed behind her to a little lavender couch. “I brought books, just in case!” The measure whirred, as she made more frantic notes. “Very good, darling.” She turned back to her client. “You’re sure you want the Baltimare Design?” “Of course, Mrs. Rarity.” The stallion said, “I wouldn’t dare go to anyone else.” He stepped down from the little podium, following Rarity as she began to move through the final steps and procedures of their transaction. As she worked, she noted Twilight page through her book, a soft, relaxed smile spread across her muzzle. Yet, in the room beyond her sat the next big project, twelve new dresses for an upcoming gala in Manehattan, special ordered. The bits from the job would pay for her expenses for the next year, at least. Her mouth moved without thought as she completed the stallion’s wishes, as her thoughts wandered back. Seven, eight years ago, she would have laughed at the idea. She barely made her bills with her designs, and if it wasn't for a certain investor, damned as he may now be, all her shops would have closed. But after that night, after that kiss, and those dates, he decided to take stock in her company. He still had stock in it- and that means some of these bits would go to him. Rarity would never get away. She bid the stallion farewell, before heading into the back room to work on the next order. “Rarity?” Twilight said as she placed a cautious hoof into the room, “Are you..okay?” “Of course, dear,” Rarity said, “Just, immensely busy. What brings you to me today?” Her back faced Twilight and her horn glowed as papers flew by. Patterns, notes, and forms danced with the quill and ink, thread, and needle. “Well...a bit of a rumor, really,” Twilight said. Rarity arched an eyebrow and glanced back at her. “Oh?” “I heard that you were...getting a divorce.” The Unicorn sucked in her lips, forming a neat line across her face. She closed her eyes. “Yes, that is correct.” “Are you okay?” “Yes, yes,” Rarity said, as she picked back up her supplies and began her work anew. “But I’d rather not talk about it at all.” Twilight nodded. “Well, if you ever do…” There was a moment of silence. “Have you been to see Spike?” Rarity stopped her work, her life, once more. She realized what she had been forgetting. “Only when he awoke with everyone else,” She said, “Too busy...you know how it is, Twilight.” She lied. The words echoed through her thoughts, back to the present where she found herself on the patio of a cafe, the white light of the sun bouncing off the tiny specks of imperfection in the rocks of the cobblestone street. “Of course, I’m just happy to just have him back, but I’m worried about him,” Twilight said between bites of her daisy sandwich. “And why is that, Twilight?” Rarity asked. “He’s...not okay,” Twilight said, “Whatever happened to him...I don’t know. I was planning on seeing him today if you’d like to come with me.” “That does sound pleasant,” Rarity said, “But, alas, I have more appointments today, however. Give him my love, won’t you?” She lied again. “Are you sure? I know he wanted to see you,” Twilight said. “I would, but I am just simply too busy. Soon though, for certain.” Twilight nodded and gave her a hug goodbye after walking her back to the store. When the princess had vanished from view down the lane, she flipped over the open sign. There were no more appointments today. All she had were her thoughts. She didn’t want them. She quickly got back to work, finishing designs and until there was nothing left to do but stare. She had forgotten to turn on the lights, leaving only the soft blue of the fading evening light to illuminate the shop by the time she had finished. She exhaled and watched the clouds drift by. Sometimes, one needs to just watch the clouds, embrace the exact moment they find themselves in, forget the worries of the futures, and the regrets of the past. Right now, the white marble tile was cool beneath her hooves, and she could faintly hear the birds sing and chirp through the thick glass which otherwise muffled the world outside. It had been a beautiful day like many had been before, and once again, she had missed it. Rarity had missed a lot, actually. Her marriage had passed her by in a whirlwind of actions and disconnected moments, ideas, and thoughts that had floated freely through it all as if she had been drifting on an endless sea without a rudder. Her life had been a slow-moving river, unnoticeably changing until she had found herself, seven years later, pining for all the time she had let slip by. She turned around as if to observe her shop as a newcomer here. Mannequins, all dressed up like little toys stood guard in the window, and rows of pre-fabricated dresses hung on tiny silver hangers. The stairs were purloined, a word which she felt rolled off her tongue like slime. Meaningless, all of it, much the same as the other haute couture shops that sprinkled Canterlot. They all had the same designs, the same inspirations. Then why, Rarity, why did you continue? Fame? Fortune? A need to sate your inner muses which demanded some sort of attention? And where had it landed her? Alone, in a quiet and dark shop. The dread that had been held back by years of repression began to take hold. She had not found happiness with Silverblood, nor with her rich lifestyle, all she had found was this emptiness. Rarity shook her head. Nihilism is not befitting of a lady. She closed shop, locking everything away for tomorrow; forgetting the lists of backorders that needed finishing, the paperwork that needed filing, the bills that needed to be paid, the friends that she needed to see, the heart that yearned for fulfillment. Some days, Rarity figured, one has to live in the moment, and that meant, right now, she needed a drink. Actually Rarity, what you need is sleep. You’ve barely gotten any. How can I sleep? It is always nightmares. Always. -------------- X ------------- The long off-white color of the hallways had always made her sick. It twisted her stomach into knots. The rooms were no better. But what truly made her heart freeze was the image before her. The statue was formed like a piece of modern art, constructed out of a mess of tubes and gauze, casts, and monitors. She stood over him, with a vacant expression. Her gaze traced every bit of him, followed the drops of medicine that slipped down the little plastic pipes, traced the edges of bruises that had turned yellow and green. She watched his chest rise and fall with ragged breaths. The stillness of the room was only upset by the ticking of the clock, far behind her, near the door, and the steady beep of the heart monitor, next to her. He was asleep. He had been for days now. She wasn’t sure she was going to see him open his eyes again. They said that he’d be fine, they said that it’ll be okay, that there was nothing to worry about. It did little to assuage the little voice that shouted and stamped its hooves in her head. You told him you never wanted to see him again. She took a step closer to him. You told him you never wanted to see him again. She couldn’t have said that, could she? Why did she say that? You know why, you know it was wrong. We’ve both made mistakes. The sharp burst of oxygen that blasted from the tank at the bedside made her let out the breath that she had unconsciously held. She told him that she never wanted to see him again, and yet, here she was. She shifted her weight, as her hoof came up from the ground and reached towards his head. Rarity hovered her hoof over the side of his face, careful not to tug on the medical equipment. He was so warm, like hellfire, blistering, and forbidden. You don’t love him. Not like that. I know. Then why? “Did I do this to you, Spike?” Rarity whispered. “Did you sacrifice yourself, because of what I said?” ‘How did he carry it?’ ‘Like it was made of lead.’ “I’m sorry if I did. I didn’t want to hurt you. I was just so...confused and hurt. We both made critical errors in judgment, didn’t we?” He growled. His claws gripped the bed. The incessant beeping increased. Louder, and louder. Something was wrong. She pressed the call button. Help was on the way. But still, the dragon began to writhe, began to toss, and threaten to rip out those vital cords. Those claws, those dangerous claws, that had already ripped through her flesh like a sharp knife through paper, or scissors across fabric, ripped into the sheets.  “Spike, Spike!” Rarity said, as she laid her hoof upon his chest, bidding him to rest. Where was the nurse? The doctor? She couldn’t leave him. “Spike, please, relax,” she begged. She put her body down upon him, trying to hold him still and felt his hand grasp her side, threatening to rip her. She turned her head to look at his troubled face.  “R-rrrrr...eh...tee” Spike mumbled between gritted teeth, brow knitted together. “Spike? Yes, it’s me, I’m here, I’m here. Your Rarity. I’m here. Please, just please…” She cried out, as she felt her side sting, claws threatening to let loose a trickle of hot wet blood down her side. Her hoof cradled his head. It wasn’t a decision, really. At least, that is what she kept telling herself when she fled the room moments later. It didn’t mean anything. It just came into her head, and somehow it worked. He relaxed. The nurses came in, just to wonder why they were called. His vitals came down in seconds back to normal. Save for the little holes in the beddings, no one would have known anything had happened. Rarity definitely wouldn’t say a thing. It was just the only thing she could think to do.  Those claws stopped digging into her skin like a condor ripping into prey. Instead, they had turned to cradling, holding, then relaxing and letting go. She held his lips to hers, for but a moment.  And then she ran. And in the nights that followed, she was always running in her dreams. From a monster in the rain. Bleeding and covered in scars and wounds.