Panting, Rarity body-checked the enormous door shut, backing away as it clattered to a stop.
“Do you think we made it?”
Behind, Rainbow Dash swore in pain, doing her best to not struggle as her back right leg shook, wings hanging limply from her now-thoroughly ruined dress. Limp wings on a pegasus were immensely disquieting; like a rabid animal stumbling around in delirium, they exuded a horribly unpleasant sense of wrongness that sent shivers down even a unicorn’s spine – wrongness enhanced by the rapidly growing blood stain spreading down Rainbow Dash’s left wing.
The rapidity of that bleed contributed greatly to Rarity’s shivers. They hadn’t tarried in the slightest escaping from the now-thoroughly burning tower, and, except for a few glances back as Rarity half-carried and half-helped Rainbow Dash hobble down the street to make sure they weren’t being followed, they had made as quick of a clip as they could, going across a dozen or so cross-streets before diving into an odd, spire-topped, and enormous building. Thus, that her wing was now at least halfway saturated (not to mention her apparently likewise-wounded haunch, which had soaked through a basketball-sized area) meant that something deeply, deeply bad had happened.
Deeper into the foyer, Rainbow Dash staggered to a halt against a wall, panting in effort. “Well, uh, if you mean ‘we didn’t get shot again’ then, yeah, I guess we made it.”
Rarity had begun stammering out desperate apologies even before she had fully turned around. “Oh, goddess Rainbow, I-I didn’t mean for it to all go–”
Rainbow Dash abruptly cut her off. “No, there’s, uh–” an absentminded rustle of the wing brought another wince, then a grimaced glance towards her wounded side “– oh damn, they got me pretty good huh?” She shook her head. “But, uh, there’s no reason to apologize yet.” She smiled weakly. “Just gotta think positive, right?”
Rarity reeled back, incredulous. “… Positive?” She shook her head. “Rainbow, forgive me if I demur, but I will freely admit that I have a very hard time seeing the positive of this situation.”
Rainbow Dash snorted a laugh. “I mean, they could have hit me a hoof-width to the left. That would have been worse.”
“Oh.” A moment of thought. “Oh!” Rarity flattened her ears sheepishly. “Right, I suppose that would have been worse.”
“Probably wouldn’t hurt as much,” Rainbow Dash chuckled darkly. “But, uh, not ‘positive’ like that. More, like, action-oriented. We’ve gotta focus on fixing the now before we think about what was.” She gave a come-hither wave with a forehoof, wobbling dangerously as she did so. “So get over here so we can get started, Rarity,” she ordered, suddenly rather more businesslike.
With a gulp, Rarity trotted over as swiftly as she dared. She could see a short wooden shaft protruding from the bottom of the wing now that she was closer, complete with a set of vanes and a leaky faucet of bright blood. She forced her eyes away from the gruesome sight, shifting them to Rainbow Dash’s face. “R-right. Where do we start?”
“Bolt has to come out,” stated Rainbow Dash matter of factly as she nodded, likely more to convince herself of her own psychology than anything. “Can’t stop the bleeding unless it comes out. Can you see if it has gone all the way through?”
Rarity gave the top of the wing a glance. Sure enough, the tip of the arrowhead was about halfway exposed among the ruined feathers. She nodded.
Rainbow Dash gave a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank Celestia.”
Rarity, averting her eyes from the grisly scene, once again looked Rainbow Dash in the eyes, eyebrow raised. “An arrow going through your wing is a good thing?”
“Yeah.” Rainbow Dash nodded. “Otherwise it has to, uh, come out the way it came in.”
“As opposed to?”
“Going through.” Rainbow Dash carefully rolled her wing over, then pulled it towards her face, apparently intending to pull out the bolt with her teeth. She only got about halfway before wincing in pain, jerking her wing away. “Nope! N-no, can’t reach that.”
“Can’t reach?”
“I can’t get the top of my wing that far forward with a bolt in it, which means I can’t pull it out.” Rainbow Dash shot Rarity a look. “Which means I need you to do it.”
“Me?” Rarity backed away a step or two. “I – I don’t know anything about medicine! Goodness, Rainbow, I’m more liable to hurt you than–”
“Yeah, you don’t. But I do.” Rainbow Dash cut her off. “Look, Rares, first thing they teach stunt fliers is to keep flying when you fuck up. Second thing they teach you is how to not die when you can’t.” She shook her head. “So in the interest of not dying, I’m going to teach you too. It’s not hard, Rares. Just grab it with your teeth and pull straight up.”
Rarity shook her head vigorously, blanching at the prospect of grabbing the thoroughly blood-soaked bolt with her mouth. “No, gods, Rainbow, absolutely not! I – I’d kill you trying to–”
“I’ll die if you don’t, Rarity. No bullshit, no jokes, nothing; I’ll fucking die, okay?” Rainbow Dash snapped with understandable if uncharacteristic severity, stamping a forehoof in frustration. “Look, Rares, I've been doing a pretty great job of being my usual cool-ass ‘nothing scares me I’m The Dash’ thing, but to be totally honest I am in an absolutely incredible amount of pain right now and I’m about twenty seconds away from fucking collapsing into a pile.” Rainbow Dash gave a firm gesture with her other wing, itself obviously wounded as well. “So get over here already.”
Rarity merely continued to continue to look on, eyes lingering hard over the wing, frozen in shock.
“Well?” asked Rainbow Dash, justifiably impatient.
“Oh, er–” with a shaky nod, Rarity began to walk over. “Right, sorry.” She took a deep breath, more to calm herself than anything else. “What should I do first?”
“Finally.” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes, huffing. “Take your dress off.”
Rarity gave a few slow blinks; she hadn’t been expecting that. “…and why are you asking me to–”
“Because if you don’t it’s going to get ruined, and I’d hate to get both of ours destroyed on the same day.”
“Is that really important right now?”
“To me? Not really. If it were two of me, I’d be happy to destroy them both.” Rainbow Dash pointed with a back hoof. “But I know it is to you, because if you don’t, you’ll be thinking about the whole time, and if you’re thinking about it, you’ll screw something important up.” A very light smirk; injury couldn’t keep all her wit down. “So strip, babe, and ditch the wig too.”
Rarity thought about it for a moment, but didn’t really need much convincing – preservation of clothing was her default position, after all. She reached her head down, conveniently sending her hairpiece and tiara to the floor before grabbing a loose lace-end with her teeth and pulling out the knot across her breast, then threw her head up as she started to shimmy her way out from all of the fabric. “I would like to state for the record, Rainbow, that such a crass request wouldn’t work normally: generally speaking, it takes more than that to get me out of my hypothetical clothes,” Rarity joked with a snort, surprised by Rainbow Dash’s apparent ability to make jokes in light of serious injury and very much grateful for a bit of levity.
“Right, right.” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Can’t forget the four bit bottle of wine.”
“Four-bit wine and a single wilted rose hurriedly stolen from Roseluck’s garden, Rainbow. One mustn't forget the flowers,” Rarity chuckled. She stepped out of her dress, fur unpleasantly matted from sweat-lines. “Now, would you like some assistance as well? I should think it is far too late for your dress, but it might make you more comfortable.”
“I, uh, don’t know if I can get out.”
“Because of your haunch?”
Shaking her head, Rainbow Dash gestured to the presently perforated wing. “That … probably wouldn’t be a problem, and I could definitely get the left one out; I think it’s just sprained, maybe a little fracture at the tip from the roll. But I can’t exactly slip the other one through the wing-hole, because, y’know, there’s an arrow through it.” A snort. “I know you failed geometry and all, but cylinders usually go through holes better the long way round.”
“Oh, come now, Rainbow; I should think that if I found myself undressing for wilted flowers on a daily basis I would be well aware of the correct arrangement of cylinders and holes, as it were.” Rarity chuckled. “You need to keep your insults consistent, Rainbow.” Shaking her head, she thought for a moment, then lit up with an idea. “Oh! Doesn’t yours button together?”
“I guess so, but I don’t really think we have time for unbuttoning every single little button, Rares.”
“Who said anything about unbuttoning?” Rarity bounded over, placing a forehoof on Rainbow Dash’s back just above the seam in the dress. “Let’s just hope she didn’t use fishing line to sew the buttons on. Ready?”
Rainbow Dash, in lieu of responding, braced her good legs solidly against the creases of the stones of the floor.
Rarity, satisfied with that response, grabbed the dress with her teeth and gave a mighty tug; sure enough, she felt a button let go. Rainbow Dash gasped, the sensation jostling her wounds rather more painfully than she expected. Rarity let go of the dress in her teeth, worried. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
“Not really,” Rainbow Dash lied, it hurting quite a lot. “Just, uh, get it over with, uh, please.”
Nodding, Rarity took the dress into her mouth, then, with a few more solid yanks, each punctuated with a whimper, liberated the skirt from the bodice. With another, gentler, pull, the skirt slid down Rainbow Dash’s body, sticking along her right side before eventually crumpling to the floor around her ankles.
Rainbow Dash took a shaky step forward, carefully removing herself from the heap of fabric. She turned her head around to snark at Rarity. “Jeez, Rares, I thought you’d have a little more mercy for the sewing–”
Rainbow Dash stopped mid sentence, eyes lingering hard on her haunch. With the dress removed, the extent of her previously hidden injury was readily apparent; an ugly but, mercifully, not particularly deep gash right across her mark.
Rarity followed Rainbow Dash’s eyes down her body, joining her in looking at the wound. She let out an involuntary gasp – the injury wasn’t really that bad, but the sight of a besmirched mark was deeply unsettling; it ran roughshod into some kind of innate sense of the self for ponykind, some kind of deep magic far more complicated than Rarity was capable of understanding, or, more accurately, knew to even attempt to understand. Whatever the case, she quickly averted her eyes to try and quell the rising sense of panic, panic which, she noted, was despite it not even being on her own flank.
She couldn’t even imagine how Rainbow Dash felt.
With a hard swallow, Rainbow Dash turned her head back towards her front, focusing on something in the distance; anything, nothing, probably.
“Oh, Rainbow, it’s–” Rarity bit her lip, trying to think of an appropriate thing to comfort her friend with “It will grow back, Rainbow. They always do.”
“Yeah, I know.” That was true; marks had a way of always reappearing even if the surrounding coat scarred. “But it’s still just…” Rainbow Dash shook her head. “I’ll think about it later. We’ll think about it later.” She lifted her right wing. “But right now we need to get this arrow out, or I’m going to be in real trouble.”
“Right, of course.” Rarity hurriedly agreed, gesturing at the bolt. “I suppose we’ll have plenty of time to discuss this once I’ve yanked–”
“No-no!” Rainbow Dash stutteringly corrected, a wince of pain shooting through her. “No, Rares, please don’t yank on anything, okay?”
Rarity corrected herself.“…gently remove?”
Rainbow Dash nodded, then turned her head back forward, finding a nice section of the wall to stare at to try and distract herself. “Gently remove. Just grab the end gently and gently pull straight up, okay? And if you – whoa!”
Rainbow Dash swung her head around to figure out what enormously heavy thing had just lain across her back, only to find its path impeded by rather substantial wall of white hair. “Uh, Rares?”
“S-sorry, Rainbow, but I’m afraid this is the only way I’m going to to be able to do this,” answered Rarity from atop Rainbow Dash’s back. “I’ll need to hold your wing in place, and I’ll need two hooves to–”
“No, yeah, do what you gotta do. It’s fine.” Rainbow Dash shook her head. “Just, uh, keep the weight off the bad leg.”
Rarity shuffled around to get more of herself across Rainbow Dash’s withers. “I, er, didn’t mean to shock you.”
“No big deal, just, uh–” Rainbow Dash let out a few chuckles in spite of the situation. “Well, I usually try and at least get a few drinks out of them before they get to the full mount.”
Rarity snorted a laugh. “But of course, Rainbow.” She positioned herself outstretched across Rainbow Dash’s body, grasping her wing in between her forelegs and holding it outstretched. “If it’s any comfort, I’ll make sure to throw in an ear nibble to make it seem like I really care.”
“Oh, wow. What a gentlestallion.” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “That always does it.”
“An expert’s move to be sure. No mare could conceivably resist, really.”
The last few chuckles died away.
“Right. Suppose that’s that then,” said Rarity, once again deathly somber. “All out of jokes, with naught but the prospect of pulling an arrow out of my friend’s wing ahead of me.” She took a deep breath to steel herself, drawing closer to the protruding bolt. “Just, er, let me know if I’m hurting you, okay?”
“Rarity, you’re pulling a crossbow bolt out of my wing. Everything about this is going to hurt.”
“Fair enough, I suppose.” Rarity positioned her mouth above the arrowhead. “Ready?”
A beat. “Y-yeah. Yeah, go for it.”
Spurred on, Rarity took hold of the bolt’s head in her teeth, drawing a whimper from Rainbow Dash, then, with a foreleg on either side of the wounded wing, began to pull upwards. Mercifully, it moved upwards without too much effort.
“Yeah, n-not too bad,” Rainbow Dash stammered out through clenched teeth, shifting her forelegs as she stared hard ahead. “Little faster, I guess.”
Rarity, without thinking, nodded a reply, making it through a full movement up and down before realizing her mistake.
“HOLY-” Rainbow Dash choked out “–FUCK NO DON’T – don’t do that!”
Rarity, wisely holding her reply until she had finished the task at hoof, merely resumed dragging out the bolt, going an agonizing inch of crimson-stained wood at a time. With a final choked whine, the vanes cleared the wound, dripping on the previously un-besmirched bits of wing as Rarity pulled it skywards before chucking it to a clattering halt on the stone floor a few paces away.
“You – you get all of it?” asked Rainbow Dash, panting.
“I did,” stated Rarity, smacking her lips to clear the taste of blood. “Unless there is another one in there, I believe you are presently unperforated.”
“…Cool,” said Rainbow Dash, which, as seemingly mundane as it was, was fair enough a perfectly acceptable response to a situation she had never thought about before. “Lemme just take a look at my wing now that I can bring it around.”
“Be careful, Rainbow,” Rarity warned as she unmounted from her friend. “I fear you have started leaking at an–”
Not heeding Rarity’s warning, Rainbow Dash flung her wing around to her front, inadvertently splattering Rarity with a fresh line of crimson across her face. “I don’t know if it actually hit the artery or–” catching sight of her friend, now breathing deliberately with eyes closed, Rainbow Dash threw her ears back sheepishly “–uh, my bad, Rares.”
“No, no, Rainbow. No need to apologize; I should think that you have more important things to think about.” Rarity opened her eyes, inspecting the damage across her visage. “Just, er, give me a moment to steel myself such that I do not find myself vomiting yet again.”
“Right, yeah, wouldn’t want that,” agreed Rainbow Dash absentmindedly, staring at her wing in concern.
“No, we wouldn’t, albeit it would not be a particularly unlikely turn of events all things considered. Before we embarked upon this little quest I could have counted the number of times I had lost my lunch since I was a small child in one set of tally marks.” Rarity wiped a foreleg across her snout. “I think I might have topped that number on our third day if you count all of those discrete visits to the ships head.” She shuddered. “I digress. As you were saying?”
“Uh, yeah.” Rainbow Dash gave her wing a shake, the rustle of feathers followed by the splattering of a window-washer’s squeegee.
Rarity winced. “Was that, ah, you?”
“Yeah, that’s what I was saying before I, uh, put you in the splash zone. I’m pretty sure the arrow nicked the humeral artery, so that’s, like, bad.”
“How bad, exactly?”
“Me dying bad, unless I can stop it.” Rainbow Dash gave her wing another look. “Wing arteries don’t like to clot. Too much demand from the fast twitch muscles in fast flight, tons of blood, tons of pressure.”
“Which means that you are presently losing, as you say, tons of blood at a high pressure.”
“Yeah.” Rainbow Dash sat back onto her haunches, wincing as she belatedly rolled away from her wounded flank. “I’ve probably got, like, five, maybe ten minutes before I pass out, so we kinda need to move fast.”
“Oh,” said Rarity gravely, taking a few steps closer. “And do you, ah, know what to do?”
“… Yeah?” said Rainbow Dash, shrugging with her forelegs. “I mean, stunt fliers and ‘Bolts wannabes like me have to go through first aid courses before they let you up so you don’t die if you stuff it into the dirt, and I’ve stuffed it into the dirt a whole bunch. Not exactly a newbie on putting myself back together.”
“That’s reassuring, at least. Celestia knows I know nothing of the sort.” Rarity frowned. “On the other hoof, I should rather think battlefield medicine is quite different than a casual spill through Applejack’s barn.”
“Not really. Keep the red stuff in, keep gross stuff out, go see a real doctor before your leg falls off.” Rainbow Dash thought for a moment. “On the other hand, I don’t see any doctors around, and I don’t exactly have a bag full of tourniquets and hemostats–”
“Hemostat?”
“Hemostat.” Rainbow Dash mimed pinching her forelegs. “Like tiny locking pliers or tweezers. Use ‘em to pinch a blood vessel shut. Had one used on me once when I went through a plate glass window when I was a kid.”
Rarity lit up in recognition. “Oh! Like a needle holder? I can see how that could be useful.”
“It would be. Except that I don’t have any.” Rainbow Dash scowled. “I don’t have shit, actually, which means I need to think back to the ‘you just crashed in the middle of the woods and fell into a tree’ lessons.” She tapped a forehoof in thought. “So let me think for a second.”
Rarity furrowed her brow “Well, I suppose we do have some things, and although I cannot foresee this place having all of the items in–”
“Thinking!” interrupted Rainbow Dash, eyes flicking back and forth through mostly-remembered classroom lessons.
Rarity, understanding the instruction, ceased.
Not bothering to acknowledge, Rainbow Dash began rattling off items. “No sutures, no hemostat, maybe tourniquet, no windlass, no styptic solution, no sludge-blood solution, no – oh, Celestia, that one’s–”
Rarity cocked her head. “What, forgot something important?”
Rainbow Dash shook her head, grimacing with ears held back. “Remembered something actually, which is worse.” She pointed at Rarity’s exposed horn, wig and tiara lain askew a few steps away. “How’s the fire?”
“Better than ever, actually. I have a feeling my display back there did me some real good.” Rarity gave a spurt of flame for emphasis, the roaring sound of combustion echoing around the chamber. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I don’t have any good way to stop myself from bleeding out, which means I need to use a bad way. A cave-pony way.”
“What, an improvised tourniquet?” Rarity looked at the crumpled remains of the bottom half of Rainbow Dash’s dress. “I should think we could make a fairly decent one out of the fabric we have present.”
“Well, yes, we will need one of those, but a tourniquet stops blood in and out. It will help cut down the bleeding for a little bit, but if I keep it on, my wing falls off, then I die. Still bad.” Rainbow Dash picked up her dress’ skirt in her teeth, giving it a few shakes. A knife, the same one she picked up earlier, tumbled out of a fold and clattered to the stones. “Which means we need something more permanent while we’ve got it slowed down.”
Rarity nodded, then pointed to the knife. “And that?”
“Is how we’re going to do it.” Rainbow Dash picked up the knife in the crook of her foreleg, then deftly spun it around, offering it to Rarity blunt side first.
Rarity eyed it skeptically. “Rainbow, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this, but typically sharp things make bleeding worse.”
“If you use the pointy side. But we aren’t using the pointy side.” Rainbow Dash pointed the knife at Rarity’s horn. “Because, in the absence of better options, but the presence of heat, our best bet is you just absolutely scorching this thing and burning my blood vessel closed.”
Rarity took a step back, aghast. “Burning? Rainbow, you cannot be serious!”
“Why not?” Rainbow Dash shrugged her wings as best she could. “Look, I’m not excited about this – actually the opposite, I don’t think I’ve even been less excited about something – but it sure beats kicking the bucket.”
“Well, sure, but that implies it works!” Rarity raised an accusatory forehoof. “How many times have you ever cauterized a wound, much less me with my less than precise hooves?”
“Gods no Rares, of course I’m not letting you do it.” Rainbow Dash shook her head, once again offering the knife. “I can sear it shut myself. I just need you to make the fire.”
“But what if you miss?” Rarity inspected Rainbow Dash’s wound again; she sure couldn’t identify anything in there. “Or pass out in pain halfway through?”
“Okay, yeah, maybe, but considering the alternative it’s not really important right now.” Rainbow Dash answered again, a little more forcefully. “Take it.”
Rarity continued. “Or what if I can’t get the blade hot enough, or your preening wax catches fire, or–”
“Rares, hey, look at me.” Rainbow Dash waved a hoof. “Rarity, I don’ t think my wax is going to–”
“–or-or maybe somepony could walk in and see me with a bloody knife and think that I’m the culprit–”
“Hey!” Rainbow Dash took a step towards Rarity. “Rarity, stop being dumb already and just do it!” Her expression softened slightly. “Look, Rares, I’ll admit it, there’s a lot that could go wrong here. I am very aware of what could go wrong here. But I need you to focus or we’re going to screw up the big thing here, which is that all of my blood is coming out of my body.”
“Right, sorry. Fair enough, I suppose.” Rarity, after a final breath to steel herself, lit her horn, forming it, by mental effort accompanied with a frankly hilarious set of eyebrow gestures, into a tight Bunsen-burner flame. “Do you need any help with anything else?”
“I’ve got the tourniquet myself.” Rainbow Dash ripped open a seam on her skirt’s foot, pulling off the decorative patterning on the bottom. “I should be able to double this over itself to get it stiff enough.”
With a final nod from Rarity, each one set to her own task; Rarity took up the knife in the crook of her foreleg, pressing the blade into the fire, while Rainbow Dash, after folding the heavy velvet cloth over itself, puled it around her wing root, spinning it around itself to create enough pressure.
“Did it work?” Asked Rarity, careful to not move her head and thus horn away from the knife.
“I think so,” responded Rainbow Dash, examining her wing. The dribble had slowed to a trickle. “How about you?”
Rarity cut her horn flame off. The knife stayed glowing red. “I would say so. Would you like to take it now?”
“Would I like to burn an arterial hemorrhage shut? No.” Rainbow Dash extended a forehoof towards Rarity. “More like ‘is it time for you to take it,’ which is true. Pass it over.”
Rarity, ever so carefully, offered the blade to her friend; Rainbow Dash less carefully snatched it out of her hoof. She held it in the crook of her right foreleg for a second or two, watching the wavy lines of heat ripple up from the red-hot surface.
“You’re a braver mare than I, Rainbow Dash,” Rarity mused. “I fear given the circumstances I would likely bleed to death rather than attempt such a grisly procedure.”
“I’m betting that, if it came down to life and death, you’d be braver than you think, Rarity.” Rainbow Dash passed the knife to her other hoof. “That being said, I’d like it if you’d, like, not keep bringing up how gnarly this is going to be.”
“My apologies. Correction: this isn’t going to hurt at all.”
“Not helping.”
“I tried.” Rarity took a step closer. “Ready?”
“Guess so. Just, uh–” Rainbow Dash wobbled on her hooves; balancing on three hooves was hard enough when they were all working. “–can you, uh, come over here and, like, hold me up?”
“Hold you up?” Rarity had begun to trot even before her question had fully left her mouth.
“Yeah. Real chance I pass out or just lose my balance.” Rainbow Dash gulped. “Either way, it’s bad when I’m holding a knife that’s on fire.”
“You don’t need to convince me of the prudence of supporting you, Rainbow,” Rarity assured. “How would you like me to position myself?”
“Just, like, along the left side, hook a foreleg over.”
Rarity did as she was told, her greater height making it fairly simple to put her foreleg around Rainbow Dash’s frame. “Like so?”
“Like that, yeah.” Rainbow Dash took a few sharp breaths, steeling herself. “Okay, yeah, you can do this, Dash. You’ve done cooler things than this, ‘cause you’re a bad motherfucker, Dash.”
“The very foulest, Rainbow,” Rarity snarked, taking the chance to squeeze Rainbow Dash in a little tighter. “An absolutely reprehensible motherfucker, as it were.”
Rainbow Dash’s self-hyping paused for a moment as she broke down into chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Oh, thanks Rares, there goes my mood. And here I was just about ready to go, too!”
“Sorry, Rainbow. I’ll make sure to only refer to you as a ‘good motherfucker’ from now on.”
And, impossibly, both of them lapsed into full blown laughter, even as Rainbow Dash’s wing continued to drip unabated onto the floor.
Laughter heavy enough that neither one of them heard the inside door behind them unlatch.
But they sure heard the gasp from the now open doorway.
Ears shooting up and swiveling around, Rarity wheeled about, horn already lit in as intimidating a spout of fire as she could manage. “WHO–”
Precise, razor-sharp diction in the delicate tones of a fine alto. “I should ask you the same, although I quite sure I already know the answer.”
The pony in the doorway, a squat Earth Pony stallion in a knee-length black gown over an ankle length white frock and adorned with an odd peaked cap replete with pom, merely raised an eyebrow over a chubby face– evidently, despite the voice, he was made of stern stuff. “However, the better question is ‘how and why this situation is unfolding in the entryway of my house of worship?’”
Rarity stamped a forehoof in an aggressive response. “And why, do tell, do you care about who–”
Rather less concerned about the precise motives of the newcomer and much more concerned about the prospect of perhaps not having to burn her arteries shut, Rainbow Dash raised her wing in front of Rarity’s face, which accomplished the dual purpose of quite neatly showing off the present problem at hand and shutting her up.
The stallion scanned the leaking appendage with practiced, now scowling eyes. “I suppose that answers the immediate sense of my question. I shouldn’t have expected anything different; Marelan never ceases to surprise with its consistency.” He backed away from the door, gesturing around to the scattered articles around the floor. “Gather your things, but stay there. I will return with an attendant and supplies.”
Rainbow Dash lifted a forehoof. “Better bring a bucket, too. And a mop.”
“Yes, and a bucket.” The stallion eyed the red lines between the paving stones under the mares’ hooves. “I’d chastise you for sullying the narthex, but it is understandable considering the circumstances.”
The odd pony backed fully away from the enormous door, then shut it, sound reverberating around the vaulted ceiling.
After a moment to let the echoes clear. Rainbow Dash shook her head, turning to her friend and locking deeply confused if ultimately relieved eyes with Rarity. Between them passed a veritable firing squad of implied questions.
Who was that?
Why did he sound so weird?
What kind of building was this anyway?
Only one actually made it to the stage of speech.
“What in the absolute fuck is a ‘narthex?’”
“A ‘narthex’ is the proper term for an entryway. A lay-pony might say ‘vestibule.’”
“You heard that, Rares? It’s a vestibule.” Rainbow Dash looked over the top of the pony tightly wrapping a dose of clotting powder and sulfa drugs into her wound at her friend.
“Yes, I heard you.” Rarity, wig replaced on her head as to present the best possible appearance and tiara sat askew atop her brow, rolled her eyes. “You are generally fairly difficult to not hear.”
Not minding the exchange, the stallion gave the wing bandage a tie, then tucked the ends into the mass of bandages to secure it. “How does that feel?”
“Tight.” Rainbow Dash gave her wing a few cursory shakes. “But it feels like it’s going to hold and, y’know, keep me from dying.”
“That will have to do.” The stallion gave a curt nod. “While I am fairly confident in my skills with the surgeon’s needle, wing-skin is both delicate and highly stressed. Best not to risk it.” He looked Rainbow Dash over. “Any other notable wounds?”
Rainbow Dash raised her wing out of the way, exposing the gash across her flank.
“Notable indeed,” the stallion mused. “And an awful spot for it to occur. To sully our marker of the Infinite Grace is a terrible, albeit mercifully always temporary, thing.”
“…Right, yeah. ‘Infinite Grace.’” Rainbow Dash, slightly puzzled, locked eyes with an equally confused Rarity. “That’s, uh, that’s one way to put it.”
“Not that it’s a bad way to put it, mind you,” added Rarity, always loathe to offend a host, “but it’s–”
“–merely unusual,” the stallion said. “Not an unexpected reaction for foreigners; despite the proximity, I find the average inhabitant of the Old Country to be sorely lacking in matters of theology and magical theory.”
“Theology?” said Rarity, clearly unfamiliar with not just the ‘matters’ of it but the word in its entirety.
“Theology?” said Rainbow Dash simultaneously, eyes lighting up in recognition. ‘Theology’ was an unusual word essentially never heard in the Old Country; vocabulary such as it tended to stick fairly closely to a particularly ‘Provincial’ understanding of Celestia's nature. “That’s – so that’s what this place is!” She turned her head around to look at the stallion. “This is a cathedral! That’s the word!”
“Not quite.” The stallion didn’t look up from the wound but did grant her a slight impressed eyebrow raise. “While I find myself here most of the time, my cathedra resides in the city center, even if sitting in it is not exactly wise.”
“Close enough!” Rainbow Dash turned back around to Rarity, naturally quite smug at her correct guess.
“How wonderful.” Rarity weakly smiled at Rainbow Dash before turning her attention to the stallion. “Ah, forgive me for prying, but there have been quite a few words in the preceding moments that I frankly did not understand.” She waved a forehoof around in a circle. “Would you care to restate yourself for an, er, ‘average inhabitant of the Old Country?”
The stallion gave a small smile. “There’s no reason to couch your language in quite so many entreats; I fear that, along with speaking almost solely in what must seem like so much nonsense to you two, I have also totally neglected to introduce myself.” The stallion bowed his head, the peaked cap somewhat making up for his short stature in giving the gesture its required gravity. “I am Bishop Dove, Bishop of Marelan.” He bowed again. “At your–”
He, upon raising his head halfway, found his passage blocked by a horn thrust in his face, end sparking.
“Bishop?” said the voice attached to that horn, clearly on edge.
“Bishop,” replied the bishop in an even and measured tone, clearly having seen something like this before.”
“Uh, Rares?” Rainbow Dash asked, more worried about the fireworks occurring a hoof-width from her ass than anything.
“Bishop. Not the title of a count, but a title nonetheless. The kid said you were a ‘good enough pony,’ but I’ve been fooled once. Not again.” The horn flicked to the side. “Back away. Touch her and I’ll kill you, you understand me?”
Rainbow Dash looked wide-eyed between her homicidal friend and the clergy-pony. “Rares, come on, calm–”
Rarity shushed her, taking two steps towards the bishop to shield Rainbow Dash’s body.
The bishop dutifully did as he was told, eyes narrowing as he began to understand the situation. “…ah. I see somepony has informed you about the Electorate, and my theoretical position among them.”
Rarity nodded, willing to betray to him at least that much.
He nodded to Rainbow Dash. “I am also guessing, based on your reaction to my status as well as your esteemed friends’ wounds, that you have encountered one of my, ah, contemporaries.”
Rarity nodded again.
“My condolences,” the bishop stated, “although to fall under the murderous gaze of one of the counts as a low-pony is quite rare, especially as a foreigner.” One side of his mouth raised into a half smirk. “Despite their willingness to slaughter each other over mostly-worthless crowns, they are absolutely not stupid enough to drive away the Equestrian Half-Crown; a preponderance of foreigners who have met untimely ends will kill what is left of this city’s markets and guilds.”
Rainbow Dash cocked her head. “How are you so sure we’re not from around here?”
Rarity, her stance broken by the sheer dumbness of the statement, smacked a hoof into her forehead.
“How indeed?” The bishop chuckled, a bizarrely light, tinkling thing. “Where to begin? The patterns of speech? The lack of accent?” He waved a hoof up or down. “Although I suppose schooling could take care of those; I pride myself on my diction. No, most obviously, it is the fact that the both of you are far too tall and well-built for low-born locals.”
“I’m too tall?” asked Rainbow Dash, incredulous.
“Well-built more so, but you are of average height. Your companion is firmly both.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Rarity clutched a hoof to her breast in offense, having heard enough snide remarks from waiflike clothes models about her “healthy build” to be permanently suspicious.
“That you, along with sufficient musculature, show no signs of the stunted growth, hoof malformations, bowed legs, or muscle flaccidity that one would expect from a lifetime of malnutrition; all typical attributes of our urban poor. Unfortunately for those unable to afford otherwise, a pony cannot live on bread alone.”
“Well, I’m glad to see that I pass the test for ‘appropriate foalhood nutrition.’ How do you know so much about this anyway?” Rarity flared her nostrils in distrust. “As last I saw, doctors do not wear whatever that is you have on.”
“A doctor of medicine? No, I am afraid my highest education focused on collective theurgy, not medicine.” He shook his head. “That being said, my duties once included several years caring for the needy in an almshouse, and even now I must tend to my flock’s physical needs as well as spiritual. Eternal Light provides for all, but an occasional bouquet of mushrooms helps in warding off the rickets.”
“Hey, wait a minute!” Rainbow Dash shook her head. “You mean to tell me you just put all this on me and you aren’t even a real doctor?”
He raised a forehoof “Are you still bleeding profusely from your wing?”
“Probably!” Rainbow Dash raised her wing to inspect it.
She was not, in fact, bleeding.
“See, I’m–” Rainbow Dash looked again. “–okay, no, yeah, guess you got it right.”
“I can assure you, whilst I may not have been trained in a college of medicine, I have spend what seems like a lifetime, once as a lowly monk, still now as a bishop, mending the wounds of this city’s endless conflict, which, might I add, the average Canterlot healer has not experienced in the slightest.” The little bishop took a step back, pushing open the enormous door with a back hoof. “Speaking of, you still have another wound I must tend to, and I really would prefer to treat you in the sanctuary as opposed to my vestibule.” He backed into the open doorway. “Please, follow me.”
Rainbow Dash took a limping step forward, only to find her path impeded by a white foreleg.
“No thanks,” said Rarity flatly but firmly, taking a step back and horn sparking faintly. “I think we’ve had quite enough of being locked into rooms today, sir.”
“The doors have no locks.” He kicked the other side open for effect. “And you are free to exit at any time, if you so wish.
Rarity clacked a forehoof off the paving stones. “False hospitality will not fool me, bishop. I might have been born at night, but I wasn’t born yesterday, you preposterous–”
Rainbow Dash decided it was best to interrupt before the parade of insults really took off. “Rares, please, just chill for a–”
“Chill? Chill?” Rarity whipped her head around, tongues of blue fire shooting from her horn and sending her wig and tiara flying towards the bishop, skittering across the floor. “How can you be ‘chill’ about anything? We were almost murdered mere minutes ago! Murdered because, might I add, I was an idiot who sent us into an obvious trap, Rainbow! ‘Oh, yes, how bad could it be? I’m sure they’re a kind and nice pony, Rainbow!’”
“Rarity, please, you’re–”
“–and you even warned me, you told me it was a bad idea but I pressed on in blithering stupidity and THIS happened because of it.” Rarity fell back onto her haunches, suddenly feeling almost overwhelmingly small in the cavernous room. “By our Creator, Rainbow, do you know how I felt as I carried what I believed all in the world to be your corpse to this place? The headlines I imagined? ‘Equestria’s Finest Savior Slain, National Afterthought Escapes Harm!’ An endless sea of mute, hateful faces sneering their disapproval at my continued existence? ‘Why you and not her? How are you worth her?’ How could I face that, Rainbow? How could I face your parents and tell them how you died? How could I tell our friends? Celestia, how could I face her down and tell her how I got one of Equestria's proudest daughters killed?”
“–hey, no, look, you’re–”
“I can’t DO THIS anymore, Rainbow!” Rarity shouted out, screechy overtones bouncing around the high ceilings. “Silly ‘quests’ and bendy gods are one thing but this? I’m not a rogue, not an assassin, Rainbow; for Celestia’s sake, I’m a seamstress!” Rarity let out a few choked sobs, staring at the stones underhoof. “Look at me! Look at what this place has turned me into! I’m a bald, blood-speckled incendiary lunatic on the run from the authorities!” She whipped her head up to meet Rainbow Dash’s, eyes pleading. “Gods above, Rainbow, what’s happening to me? What’s happening to us?”
In lieu of replying, Rainbow Dash pulled Rarity into a tight hug, wrapping her wings around her as best she could; Rarity enthusiastically returned the gesture.
“Rares,” comforted Rainbow Dash, careful to pull Rarity to the un-bleedy side of herself, “I don’t need you to be an–”
“Heavens, Rainbow, you? I-Idon’t even know what I need me to be!” Rarity choked out. “I’ve only the vaguest idea what we are supposed to be accomplishing, and even less how!”
“Look, worry about ‘accomplishing’ anything later. We don’t need to worry about whatever particular crap she gave us to fix right now, okay? Let’s just focus on keeping you safe, keeping us safe right now. Worry about everything else later.”
“But I can’t!” Rarity shouted. “Gods, Rainbow, I just can’t! You can focus on your friend; that’s your raison d’etre; that’s your gift, for Celestia’s sake! But me? Gods, me?” Rarity gave a single, spiteful laugh. “Ha! I can’t stop focusing on everything but us. My damn gift from on high demands I observe every gods-forsaken fucking crumb of the misery that we seemingly have found ourselves swimming in!” Not content with a single exclamation, Rarity loosed a pained growling scream as she stomped a forehoof. “Every SECOND I spend here some voice in my head screams at my audacity to have such ostentatious wealth in this land of orphans and vagrants, about how I shouldn’t so much as blink before I have taken every action I possibly could to improve the lot of every pony around me, because every time I see something like the shack that poor colt lives in or the poor little seamstress mutilated or any other of the countless multitudes of dirty little urchins with hollow eyes I had to dodge on the way here I just about LOSE IT!”
“Rarity, you’re being ridiculous, you can’t blame yourself for–”
“Of course I know that, Rainbow! I’m not an idiot; I’m not going to blame myself for some other pony’s cruelty twenty years ago!” Rarity shook her head, clenching her forelegs around Rainbow Dash. “But even if I know that, that little piece of magic stuck on my soul like a tumor ever since that first time I saw that damn necklace just has to pipe up about my inadequacy, about how I’m a terrible pony who lets ponies suffer because I’m too greedy to give up some impossible thing to make it alright, about how I let ponies suffer because I don’t want to help.” She, giving a final, awful sob, pushed her face into Rainbow Dash’s shoulder, speaking barely above a whisper. “And I do, Rainbow, gods I want to help them. I just don’t know how.”
Not sure of an answer to that question either, Rainbow Dash let Rarity finish up her last few silent wracks. In the mean time, she gave the bishop, the presence of whom the two mares had forgotten about a minute or so ago, a quick glance.
The bishop, sat back onto his haunches, stared back, mouth agape.
“Uh, sorry.” Rainbow Dash, naturally believing it was a reaction to the severity of the outburst, smiled sheepishly. “It's, uh, an emotional topic for her.”
The bishop merely continued staring back, still open-mouthed.
Rainbow Dash raised an eyebrow. “You, uh, okay? You’re still just kinda sitting there staring at–”
“Dear Mother Above,” he finally replied after a few slow blinks, eyes shooting back and forth from marks to faces. “I know who you both are.”