//------------------------------// // Soup // Story: Neither of them spoke // by Monochromatic //------------------------------// Neither of them spoke. Only the town did.  It coughed through a stallion walking past them, his body wrapped in layers of warm clothes. It sang through the three carolers standing outside the restaurant’s gates, ignoring the annoyed glances coming from nearby patrons. It cried and laughed and lived through the endless symphony created by ponies living their lives that December afternoon.  But it was quiet when it came to Twilight Sparkle and Sweetie Belle.  There they sat on an outside table, as they had many times before, two plates of untouched warm soup growing cold before them. Not for the first time, Twilight thought they were in a similar position. A once warm relationship now chilly and static.  “So,” Twilight said, eventually, because eventually somepony had to speak. “School is going well, then?”  The filly nodded. “Mhm.”  She was still looking at her soup, her replies still summarized to monosyllabic utterances. This had been the status quo so far. Questions replied with mhms and yeahs and noes. In the back of her head, Twilight Sparkle thought of the many duties she’d put off to be there. The many things she could be doing instead, which from the outside looked much more important than sitting there and barely talking with a filly for… what? Almost an hour now?  Anypony would have left by now. Anypony would have finished their meal, thanked the filly for the invitation, and then left to join the other ponies going on with their day.  But Twilight wasn’t anypony.  Just as it had been Sweetie who’d set up this lunch, so it was her choice when to end it.  ...but there was nothing wrong with a nudge, right? “Sweetie,” Twilight said, her tone sympathetic, “is there anything you wanted to talk about?”  She’d genuinely meant well with that. It wasn’t in any way meant to make Sweetie uncomfortable, but it did nevertheless. Immediately, her ears clamped to her skull like she’d done wrong.  “O-Oh! I… I’m...I’m sorry, I...” she stammered, flustered.  “For what?”  This seemed only to intensify Sweetie’s fluster, the poor thing really looking like she wanted out.  “I dunno,” she said, and Twilight assumed it wasn’t because she didn’t know, but because she didn’t want Twilight to know. She looked at her plate. “I hate soup.”  Twilight couldn’t help but frown. “...Why did you order it, then?”  “I dunno. Because it’s good for me?”  “Right.” The alicorn laughed. “You know, you’re just like your sister.”  “What? No, I’m not!” Sweetie immediately said, a great frown marring her face.  “You are, though. Rarity hates soup.”  “No, she doesn’t,” Sweetie insisted. “If she hates soup, why does she order it all the time?”  Twilight leaned in, grinning. “Because it’s healthy.”  There was a split second pause, and like sun on a rainy day, Sweetie’s timid smile shone. “Oh.”  Twilight leaned back, taking a mouthful of soup and enjoying it. “Mhm.”  “I didn’t know that,” Sweetie said, pushing the plate away and instead sliding over the breadbasket. She ate one, two, three pieces of bread, enough time to allow Twilight to make a choice.  “Well,” she said, “there’s a lot about Rarity you don’t know.”  Sweetie’s chewing slowed to a crawl, her eyes meeting Twilight’s.  “...Like what?”  Twilight hummed. “Like the fact that she loves wrestling.”  “Wrestling?” Sweetie asked. “No, she doesn’t.”  “Yes, she does!” Twilight insisted. “She even has a season’s pass to Trottingham Arena. She’s even designed costumes for some of the wrestlers.” Twilight allowed herself a smile. “She’s even competed.” “What?!”  Twilight was grinning now. “She’s won a tournament, actually. Under a different name, of course, and with a full body costume, but she won it.”  “She has?! What’s her wrestler name?!”  Twilight licked her lips. She really shouldn’t say. If Rarity ever found out, she’d murder her.  Oh well! “Chunky Mudslinger.”  Sweetie Belle stared at her.  “...What?”  “That’s her name,” Twilight elaborated. She waved her hoof in the air, like the announcers she’d seen so many times. She even imitated the grand tone they put on. “Straight from Ponyville, the Chunky Mudslinger!”  Sweetie looked bewildered. Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you.”  “It’s true!” Twilight insisted. “Cross my heart and hope to fly. She has a catchphrase and everything.”  Sweetie hesitated. “...A catchphrase?”  Twilight nodded. “Mm. And it’s really something.”  “...What is it?”  Twilight hummed, much like Rarity would. “Oh. Hm. I don’t know. I really shouldn’t say. She’d kill me if she found out.”  “She won’t find out!” Sweetie said, a little too quickly. She cleared her throat. “She won’t find out. Promise.”  “Iiii don’t know, Sweetie.”  “But, Twilight!” she insisted, and it was just as before, Sweetie Belle insisting that Twilight convince Rarity to let her get away with mischief. It was nice. “Come ooooon!”  Twilight mulled it over, because this she really shouldn’t be saying, but maybe if she modified it, it would be okay. “Okay, fine.” She cleared her throat, and lowered her voice while still trying to sound theatric. “Eat mud, mother F-worders!”  Sweetie Belle gasped so loud, Twilight was afraid Rarity would somehow find out.  Especially when Sweetie, also loudly, said: “Eat mud, motherfuckers?!”  “Sweetie Belle!” Twilight yelped, suddenly aware of the various patrons immediately looking their way in disapproval. “Don’t repeat that!”  Sweetie slammed her hooves against her mouth, redder than a tomato. “I’m sorry!” she squeaked. When she got over her embarrassment, she looked to Twilight in wonder. “You’re not lying?”  “I wouldn’t lie about this. She loves it so much. She’s had a manager ask her if she’d like to go professional.” Twilight drifted off, a loving smile on her lips. “She’d have been great at it, too.”  “But, why didn’t she?!”  Twilight smiled thinly. “Because wrestling is uncouth. That… environment, I guess, is really frowned on by most of Rarity’s fashion clientele, which is largely noblesse. It’s not… proper.” “What? That’s stupid. They’re stupid!” Sweetie said, indignant. “It’s cool!”  “That’s why she has that name and that persona. Because nopony would ever think Rarity could be the same person. If she’d gone professional, it would have to be here in Ponyville, and ponies would find out if that’s the case. It could affect her business. It wouldn’t look right for nobles to associate and buy from a pony that engages in activities like that.”  Sweetie Belle didn’t say anything after that.  She was quiet, her eyes burning into Twilight’s. Burning and burning, until her ears lowered, her voice cracked and she asked what she meant to ask the entire time: “Is that why you broke up with her?”  “Yes,” Twilight replied. “Because I didn’t agree with her choice to hide who she is.”  A simple answer because, truth be told, it wasn’t incorrect. Twilight did break up with her over her choice to hide, but not just the wrestling.  The fact that she never ate the food she wanted out of fear of gaining weight and becoming the subject of tabloids, as she already had times before.  The fact that somepony who lived and died uplifting others allowed herself to be a slave to the standards of ignorant idiots who unfortunately could decide her future with a single bad review.  The fact that dating the princess of Equestria meant that perfection was expected of her at all times, and that no pony expected it more than Rarity herself, regardless of what Twilight thought.  Sweetie swallowed. “Oh.”  Tears filled her eyes.  “She misses you,” she said next. “...I miss you.”  “I miss you, too,” Twilight replied, because it was true. She glanced around, towards the setting sun, and smiled wide. “Hey. I have an idea. I go to Ponyville Arena every other Wednesday of the month. Why don’t you start coming with me?’  Sweetie wiped the tears away. “To Ponyville Arena?”  Twilight nodded. “Mm! That’s when new local professional fighters are announced and have their first big fight. I keep waiting for my favorite fighter to show up.”  She smiled. “Maybe we can wait for her together?”