Rarity called them butterflies.
I take one last bite of my sandwich and look down at my cutie mark.
It’s nice to finally have a name for them— these creatures that saved my life. I didn’t expect to get a cutie mark because of them, either, but I’m not complaining. Frankly, I can't stop smiling!
A cutie mark! I repeat in my head for the thousandth time. I can’t wait to show Rainbow Dash!
“...And you brought all of these back from that rock on your own?”
“Indeed I did! It took me quite a while, I must admit. Although, I had forgotten them for the most part after I ran into— Butterfly, are you listening?”
Rarity’s voice pries my attention away from my own flank, and I suddenly remember the situation I find myself in.
“Oh! Um, yes,” I tell her.
We had all sat down to eat after I recovered from my— admittedly embarrassing— outburst, but it wasn’t long before Rarity suddenly sat up and shouted something about forgetting the time. Rushing out the door, she urged both Lily and myself to stay seated. I was worried, of course, but thankfully she returned before too long. Strangely, though, she was also carrying a large collection of sparkling gemstones with her.
I reach towards the colorful pile that has been strewn across the kitchen table and pick up one of the larger green gems.
“That one is an emerald,” Rarity says with a smile, scooting her chair closer to mine as I inspect it.
“It’s pretty…” I say. My own reflection on its surface is joined by Rarity’s as she leans in, the stars in her eyes apparent.
“Isn’t it!?” she exclaims. “I knew as soon as I had found them that these were what was missing!”
“Missing?”
“Mhmm!” she hums in confirmation and delight. “I was almost out of time to perfect the costumes. This must be what they call destiny!”
Lily must have picked up on my confusion where the younger unicorn couldn’t. “Rarity’s class is putting on a school play tonight,” she tells me. “Rarity was put in charge of the costume design.”
“And I told everyone that they would be the best costumes. The perfect costumes!” Rarity once again takes over the explanation with theatrical flair.
“Admittedly I may have been running dry on inspiration there for a bit, and I may have been slightly worried that I would have to show up tonight with something… less than perfect,” she seems to shudder at the thought. “But with these gemstones I can fulfill that promise!”
It’s hard for me to keep a smile off my face whenever Rarity starts to act this way.
If this is how she typically is it’s a wonder she’s not one of the performers instead, I joke to myself.
“So how much time do you have to, um, do that?” I ask.
“Oh, easily a few hours,” she says before glancing at the clock. Her smile drops the moment she does so. “...Or just less than two. Oh no.”
“‘Oh no’?”
“No! No need to panic, Butterfly!” Rarity panics. “Everything is going to be fine! I can still make this happen, I’m sure of it!”
She quickly lifts as many of the gems as she can with her magic, and scoops several others up with one of her legs. Just as she begins to hobble away she’s jerked back, however, an aura of pink held tightly onto the end of her tail.
“Rarity…” Lily begins, her tone reflective of the same concern she showed when I first met her.
“Yes, Nana? I’m sorry, but I really don’t have a lot of time!”
“...Sweetheart, I don’t think that you should worry about the play,” she tells the younger unicorn.
A silence thicker than any cloud fills the cottage. Rarity wheels on her relative.
“What!?” she shouts. “What do you mean!?”
The steady glow of Lily’s horn grows harsher. “I mean that you don’t need to push yourself. You’ve been through a lot today, dear, and you should rest. Missing the play wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”
“Wh-what!? But—” Rarity protests.
“You’ve been nothing but a bundle of nerves since you arrived back home with Butterfly earlier. I’m not sure you’ve even taken the time to realize just how hurt you are,” Lily presses. “You don’t usually act like this, and I’m worried. Please just rest tonight, dear. For me?”
“But…” Rarity falters. She looks down at the floor in defeat before moving her gaze towards me, her expression pleading.
Huh!? Why is she— What does she expect me to do?
“I-I think that Miss Lily’s right. You were hurt pretty bad, too. Maybe you should rest…” I cautiously tell her.
Any last shreds of hope in her expression fade away as I finish speaking. She seems to cycle through several different emotions all at once before finally settling on rage as she turns back on the older unicorn.
“But that’s not fair!” she shouts. “That’s not fair, Nana! You know I’ve been looking forward to this!”
Lily nods in response, though her expression hardens at the younger unicorn’s tone. “I know, dear, but you’ve put in hard enough work on the costumes already. They’re all perfectly acceptable as they are. I’ll take them to the school myself, but you need to stay here and rest.”
“But ‘acceptable’ isn’t good enough!” Rarity continues to shout. “They have to be perfect, Nana! They have to be!”
“Dear—”
“And I need to be there to make sure they’re all put on properly!”
“Rarity, I—”
“Why are you ruining this!?”
“Young lady, that is enough!” the floorboards shudder as Lily suddenly stomps her hoof. Both Rarity and myself reel back.
“I don’t at all appreciate your tone. There is no reason to shout at me, especially not in front of our guest!” she says firmly, though I sink further into my chair when she gestures at me.
“But—”
“No ‘buts’, young lady! You’re staying here tonight, and that’s final.”
Tears fill Rarity’s eyes as Lily uses her magic to lift the gemstones off the table and out of the younger unicorn’s grasp.
Rarity attempts to sputter out another protest, but her own shaky jaw seems to betray her. With a sob she turns and runs up the stairs, the sound of a door slamming coming soon after.
…
…I don’t really know what to think. That was… stressful, for sure. For now, I let out the breath that I was holding and take a second to get my heartbeat in order.
Lily’s horn continues to glow brightly as she turns and begins washing dishes in the sink, having placed the gems off to the side. After a near-minute of silence she speaks again, causing me to jump slightly.
“I apologize, Butterfly, on both of our behalfs. That wasn’t something that you needed to see,” she says, addressing me.
I immediately shake my head in response. “Oh no, it’s OK,” I tell her.
And it is OK! I think.
I tend to avoid fights with my parents, though from what I’ve heard at school it’s a pretty common thing with other families. No reason to question it.
She gives me a tired smile over her shoulder and uses her magic to push a plate across the table. A half-eaten sandwich rests upon it; Rarity’s unfinished dinner.
“If you wouldn’t mind, could you give that to her?” Lily asks. “I don’t know what that girl thinks, sometimes, but she still needs to eat. I’d give it to her myself, but I’m probably the last pony that she wants to see right now.”
“Of course,” my response comes quickly, not warranting any thought.
Grabbing the end of the plate in my mouth, I carry it out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
At the top I find an open bedroom, surprisingly tidy considering the mess downstairs. Since this is where she ran to, it’s likely that this bedroom belongs to Rarity herself. Despite that, however, she’s nowhere to be seen.
I tentatively approach the closed door I spot along the far wall, the sounds of sobbing becoming more apparent as I do so. I take the plate out of my mouth and hold it steady with a hoof.
“...Rarity?” I reach out, but the sobbing doesn’t stop. Maybe she didn’t hear me.
“Um… I’m sorry that you can’t go to the play,” I say a little louder. “It looked like it meant a lot to you.”
The door gives no response. I shuffle my hooves.
“It’s OK if you don’t want to talk, but I hope you aren’t mad… Miss Lily’s just worried, like you told me before. Remember?”
I eye the unmoving door handle for a short time before continuing.
“She, um, wanted me to give you the rest of your sandwich… but I suppose I’ll just leave it next to your bed,” I tell her, and once again receive only more sniffles in response.
I take that as my cue and trot over to the bed, depositing the plate on the nightstand. I take a quick glance out of the window and spot some birds flying above dark trees, returning to their nests and their families for the evening.
I know in my head that the sight should warm my heart, but I’m instead filled with a subtle sense of dread— like I’m seated at the edge of a cloud.
Is that… where I want to leave it? A sandwich?
I find myself trotting back over to the door. I just need to tell her…
“Rarity…?” I say, placing my hoof against the wooden surface. “Earlier you said that ‘acceptable’ wasn’t good enough. That things needed to be perfect. I’ve, um… I’ve thought that a lot, too.”
The crying dies down a bit, and I lower my voice in turn.
“A lot’s happened to me today. The bad things were pretty bad, but the good things…”
I close my eyes and lean my head against the door.
“...Today was perfect. To me, at least. I’m sure the ponies at your school will think your costumes are, too, even without the gemstones.”
…
“I’m gonna go help Miss Lily with the dishes, OK? I hope I can see you again before bed, but if not… Goodnight, Rarity. Oh, and um… thank you.”
Leaving it at that I peel myself away from the door and head back downstairs. I find Lily in the living room, using her magic to clean up the mess of sewing supplies. She must have already finished with the dishes.
“Hi, Miss Lily,” I greet her as I step off the stairs.
“Hi again, Butterfly,” she turns to me with a smile. Her horn is back to its usual dull glow.
“Is it alright if I help you clean up?” I ask, preemptively picking up some fabric off the floor.
“Well…” she begins to protest, but relents soon after. “Of course, dear. Feel free,” she sighs.
We both set to work picking up various ribbons, sheets of fabric, loose pins and other sewing materials I’m having a hard time trying to identify. Half an hour later, and I’m putting the finishing touches on the organized pile of materials we’ve built up out of the way of errant hooves or hindquarters.
Lily sits down on the newly-uncovered couch with an exhausted huff.
“You know, you see the mess in front of you for so long you start to forget just what things look like underneath it,” she tells me.
I take a second to internalize that, and take a look around the room now that I can see it properly for the first time. I recall the first impression I wanted to have: quaint and cozy. The cottage basically screams that at this point.
“I didn’t say before, but I think your home is very lovely, Miss Lily,” I tell her with a smile. She returns her own in kind.
“I suppose that all of this is Rarity’s?” I ask, gesturing at the pile and taking a seat on the couch as well.
“It is,” Lily replies. “Although, it might be more accurate to say that it’s ours. Most of these are materials that I’ve gathered up over the years and put to the wayside. It wasn’t until Rarity showed an interest in the art of sewing that they finally saw any use.”
“You don’t sew, Miss Lily?” I ask, intrigued. I suppose it’s not every elderly pony’s hobby.
“Oh, I know my way around a needle and thread. Mostly out of necessity, though. Tears in outfits tended to never pass as a good first impression for those up in Canterlot.”
Canter—!?
“Canterlot!?” I shout in shock. “You’re from Canterlot? The Canterlot?”
Canterlot… I think to myself. I’ve always wanted to go there, at least to see it. Imagine getting to see the royal palace! Or maybe even the Princess!
Lily chuckles a bit at my enthusiasm.
“Not from there, no. I did live there for a time in my youth, however,” she explains.
Still in awe, I can do nothing to stop the questions that find their way to my lips.
“How long ago?” I ask.
“A few decades past, at this point.”
“Did you ever get to see the royal palace?”
“Oh, every day! It was rather hard to miss,” she jokes.
“Did you ever go inside?”
“My business didn’t take me there often, but yes, I’ve been inside on a couple of occasions.”
“Did you ever meet the Princess?”
It’s at this point in my barrage of questions where Lily takes longer to respond. I calm down enough to examine her expression.
She’s staring past me, I realize. Not at anything in particular, just… past me. Her light flickers.
“...Would you like to see?” she asks, breaking her stupor. I tilt my head at her in confusion, but nod nonetheless.
Getting back onto her hooves, Lily leads me down the hall. We pass the bathroom and open the door at the end.
Another bedroom greets us, even tidier than the one upstairs. Lily’s room.
I can’t explain it, but seeing the bedroom seems to spark a connection in my mind. The tidiness of it and of Rarity’s room, Rarity’s overly-theatrical mannerisms and vocabulary in comparison to Lily’s practiced elegance, and the welcoming feeling I get from both unicorns.
Is Rarity… copying Miss Lily? I ponder.
It’s… a strange thought. I don’t have anyone in my life who I’d emulate to such a degree. I suppose there’s nothing wrong with it, though. It’s just a bit odd. For now, I store the thought away and bring my attention back to Lily.
Having trotted over to a chest in front of the bed, Lily opens it and pulls out a camera. An older and bulkier camera than any I’ve seen before— aside from those in movies and museums. She hoofs it over to me with a smile.
I take the camera gingerly in my hooves and turn it over. It’s not just old, it’s seen some use. There’s clear scratches and wear along the surfaces where you’d rest your hooves, and the strap is frayed.
“Photography is my passion,” Lily tells me. “I’ve documented a good deal of my life with that camera— Rarity’s as well. It finally gave out a few months ago, unfortunately, but I like to think that I’ve made its time here worthwhile.”
Filled with a new sense of wonder over this relic I hold in my hooves, I make another attempt at examining it. It’s easy now to see just why it’s lasted all these years. A lot of the parts seem to have been replaced over time— perhaps more than once— each boasting different levels of wear. Lily must have really cared for it.
I gently hoof the camera back to Lily and ask the question that I’m sure she’s been waiting for.
“Does that mean…?”
Another chuckle. “Yes, it means that I have photos of my time in Canterlot,” she says, before reaching into the chest again and retrieving a large, worn scrapbook.
“My life,” she explains. “In pages and pictures.”
Placing the scrapbook on the floor between us, Lily opens the cover.
I’m immediately drawn by what I see. Shaky photos, taken by unskilled hooves, depict the life of a much younger unicorn than the one I now sit beside. The quality of the image is poor compared to today’s standard, but I’m shocked to see that they actually show color! I was expecting something along the lines of the muddled brown you see in history documentaries.
The only thing is that it’s honestly a bit hard to tell what some of these pictures are even supposed to depict. Most of the early ones seem to be drowned out by some kind of ever-present whiteness. I point out the first one I see that’s almost entirely blotched out.
“Did this one not develop properly?” I ask. What would even be the point of holding onto it?
Lily seems to beam when I point out that specific photo.
“Oh! Yes, I can see how you would think that. When I was younger, my horn would alight when I felt even the tiniest bit of excitement. This was the first ever photo I took with this camera, you see. I was glowing practically the whole day!” she tells me, excitedly recounting her youth.
“It was supposed to be a photo of a flower. A truly beautiful one that I had discovered the same day my parents bought me this camera. It would glow in the dark, and reminded me of, well… me,” she says. My gaze drifts towards her cutiemark, and the flower it depicts.
Having dove head-first into history, I sit and listen— enraptured by what the older pony has to tell me about the life that she lived.
When she was younger, Lily’s family moved around a lot. It was her, her parents, and her younger sister— Rarity’s grandmother. They traveled from place to place before eventually hearing of the developing settlement of Ponyville. She was a young adult by the time her family finally settled down and made Ponyville their home.
“It was a nice place to live— and still is— but at the time I wanted more.”
Lily flips over several pages before I finally see the grandiose architecture of the Canterlot Royal Palace.
“We had all heard the stories, so eventually I moved to the one place I knew where ponies could truly make something of themselves,” she tells me.
At this point in time, presumably several years past, Lily’s skill at photography had improved drastically. Things are properly centered, more professional angles are used, and there’s no trace of her horn’s light obscuring the image.
“I loved my family, and I loved Ponyville, but always felt like I could make my own way. I always felt like I could do more with my camera than simply take photos of trees and flowers,” she says, pointing out a particular photo of a unicorn sitting in front of a fountain.
The pony’s multicolored mane is reflected in full-vibrance in the waters, contrasting beautifully with the evening sky in the background. Lily had caught her in the middle of laughing, and the entire thing just feels so… alive. Lily really does have a talent for this kind of thing.
I spot the same unicorn in several other photos, some with Lily herself in them. There’s a type of joy radiating from the two of them that draws me in.
“Who is she?” I ask.
“That, dear, is Rarity,” Lily replies.
…What?
“...What?”
Lily simply smiles at me and continues.
“Rarity was my best friend, my confidant, and my muse. We met shortly after I first arrived in the city, but we quickly became inseparable.”
She begins flipping through more and more pages— months and years passing with a glance. I see photos of various subjects, pony and non-pony alike. Photos of events— parties, weddings, and ceremonies of all kinds. It seems that Lily really made her way around in the time she was in Canterlot, yet there remains a consistency. The presence of one pony in particular graces most of these photos.
Rarity. Or rather, this pony who shares her name.
“She was what I would consider to be one of the few truly worthy of their place in Canterlot. She had the noble air about her and the connections that cemented her place among the elite, but beyond all of that she was…”
Lily trails off, her gaze fixed once again on something far, far away. I debate getting her attention, but she manages to pull herself back before I get the chance.
“...She cared. More than most,” she tells me. “Enough to help me out with shooting opportunities whenever I was struggling, and much more.”
A soft sigh escapes Lily’s lips. “Frankly, I doubt I would have lasted as long as I did in Canterlot without her.”
I allow Lily a moment to reflect on her memories before asking the question burning in my mind. “...Miss Lily? Why don’t you live in Canterlot anymore?”
Wordlessly, Lily flips a few more pages. She comes to rest upon a page with a single newspaper clipping attached to it. She passes the scrapbook over to me, and I take it in my hooves with care. The weight of it catches me off guard, but I force my attention towards the clipping.
The paper, as old as it is, has taken on a slight yellow tinge. The image upon it is fading, but despite that it’s not difficult to make out the pony it depicts. Princess Celestia, in all of her beauty, is splayed out haplessly on the ground in a daze. Guards are rushing to her side to assist her while another pony runs in the opposite direction away from the chaos. Their cutie mark, barely seen, shows off a unique-looking flower.
With effort, I keep myself from glancing at the unicorn next to me and look at the clipping’s title. “Professional Photographer Lily Lightly Embarrasses Princess; Equestria’s Ruler Left in Blinded Slump,” it reads.
Before my eager eyes can glance over the rest of the article, I shut the scrapbook.
Lily’s tone is unchanging as she addresses me. “What’s wrong, dear? I thought you wanted to know what happened?” she asks.
Not like this, the thought rings out in my mind. It’s wrong. It feels wrong.
“I know what p-ponies say when you do something they don’t like. Even if it was an accident…” I tell her, pushing down my nausea. “I don’t want to read their side of what happened. I want to know yours.”
“I see…” she says, before breaking into a relieved chuckle. “Very well, then.”
With a groan, Lily stands up and trots over to a vanity mirror set up next to her bed.
“My horn,” she begins. “Just as they say, it was the light it produces that left the Princess in that state.”
She reaches up with a hoof and rests it upon her horn.
“It was always a part of me that other ponies disliked. Oh, they might not have outright said it, but I could always tell. ‘There goes little Lily Lightly. With her horn who needs the sun?’”
My grip tightens around the scrapbook, and I clutch it to my chest.
“As you might imagine, I took this to heart. The light comes naturally to me, but I learned to suppress it. I knew that it would hamper any career I could have made with my photography and sever the connections I so desperately wanted. I kept it a secret from everyone. As far as Rarity was concerned, I told her about everything... Everything but my light.”
Lily wills the light from her horn to dim, further and further until not a trace of it is left.
“I hid that part of myself from even my best friend, and I hid it for years. It wasn’t gone, though, no matter how much I wanted to be rid of it at the time. But still, with my light suppressed and Rarity there to help me I made my way from function to function, improving my skill in photography and making connections at every opportunity. I was living the life of my dreams…”
Her reflection smiles softly, and the dull glow from her horn returns.
“By the end, I was struggling. It was becoming more and more challenging to suppress my light. I was missing shooting opportunities, parties… even missing out on time with Rarity.”
“She was concerned,” Lily says, her smile growing bright. “She was always concerned…”
“‘It will probably be your only chance,’ she told me. One of the photographers they hired to work that year’s Grand Galloping Gala was sick and would be unable to make it. Rarity offered my services in their stead.”
I can’t help but echo her words aloud in my wonder. “The Grand Galloping Gala…” I say, and Lily nods at me.
“It was as she said. I couldn’t miss it for the world. I put in more effort than I ever did before and ensured that my light wouldn’t be making an appearance that night. Things had to be perfect.”
I think I hear the slight sound of a door opening somewhere else in the cottage, but I’m too enraptured in the story to pay it any mind.
“And perfect they were… My shots were pristine, the dances grand, and the company exquisite. It was, in many ways, the best night ever.”
Lily sways back-and-forth on her hooves, seemingly in time with music that only she can hear. I subconsciously sway along with her.
“‘How could tonight get any better?’ I asked myself. But of course, as if the world needed to prove me wrong, that’s when I’m approached by none other than Princess Celestia herself.”
I gasp in turn with Lily as she mimes her own reaction that night.
“I suppose I should have expected it. I’d heard that the Princess personally saw to it that she greeted each and every attendee of the Gala throughout the night, but I suppose I assumed for some reason or another that I would be an exception. There were times I wished I was.”
“‘Beautiful’ doesn’t do her justice; ‘Radiant’ is the only word I would use to describe her. When she greeted me I could only stammer, and all that stuck in my mind at the time was Rarity’s giggling beside me. She introduced me to the Princess in my place, and the embarrassment of the moment was the drop that broke the tension.”
“At once my bottled emotions escaped me. Everything that I had suppressed in the years I was in Canterlot. Everything that I had wished would vanish for good. It all escaped in the only way it could… my light.”
Flash. Lily’s horn grows brighter.
“More bright than I ever thought it could get, everything released in a flash. The Princess was left on the floor, Rarity along with her, and everyone knew that I was the one who did it. I could do nothing but panic and run. I had to.”
Lily sits on her bed and holds a hoof to her chest, an action that’s all too familiar to me.
“Did they— did, um…” I speak up, stammering. “Miss Lily, were you… chased out of Canterlot?”
Lily looks away and stares at the wall. “‘Chased’ is a strong word. I’m not sure if it’s entirely accurate… but after that night I certainly felt like the least-welcome pony in the city,” she says. “So… I left. I made my way back to Ponyville, bought land away from where I could bother others, and I built a life here that I never thought I’d build.”
Lily grows quiet. An ending to the story I knew was coming but still wasn’t expecting.
“What about Rarity?” I ask. “The, uh, other Rarity. The Canterlot one.”
“...I avoided her. As best I could, and for many months. I’m sure it felt like some kind of horrible betrayal,” she wipes a tear from her eye. “But, regardless, she found me. One morning she was knocking on the front door of the cottage and demanded an explanation. She deserved one, so I provided. I apologized and told her everything. Light included, this time.”
“She forgave me,” Lily sniffles. “She made it seem so effortless. I know I ruined her reputation in some fashion, but she never brought it up… no matter how many times I asked her about it.”
I stand up and approach the bed, hoping to provide a measure of support with my presence.
“It took a long time, but with her help I eventually came to terms with my light and what I had lost by trying to keep it hidden. The newspaper clipping is a reminder. I’ve lived a perfect life here in Ponyville because of what happened, and in spite of what happened. I’ve never wanted to hide any side of myself since.”
Lily gives one last sigh. “Sometimes I wish that the Princess would knock on my door just the same. My only regret is that I haven’t been able to offer her an apology as well. Even if she doesn’t accept it, she still deserves one.”
In the silence that follows, my thoughts run wild. It had never occurred to me before just how much there was to a pony’s life. How much there was to experience, to love, and to regret.
For the first time, I think of my future.
What kind of pony will I be? What kind of pony can I be, and who will I meet that will be there with me every step of the way? I flap my wings at the thought.
There’s more than Cloudsdale, I realize. More than school and my parents. I…
I think I want to see it. All of it.
“This other Rarity… Is she...?” I prod, reluctantly.
“She’s no longer with us,” Lily explains, her horn’s light holding steady. “Or, rather, not in the physical sense. I like to think that she’s watching, and that she’s proud. Both of me, and of Rarity.”
Beyond everything else, one aspect of this conversation has left me a bit puzzled. I haven’t ever heard of two ponies sharing a name before. I thought they were like cutie marks— unique.
“Rarity told me earlier…” I begin. “She, uh, said that she ‘picked’ her name.”
“She did,” Lily replies, her soft smile growing wider.
“...Why, though? Didn’t her parents give her one?” I ask.
Lily holds her mouth open before closing it again. She looks off to the side, her brow furrowing. She seems to be debating something.
“Rarity’s parents… she has a complicated relationship with them,” she finally explains.
“You’ve probably noticed that they don’t live here with us.”
I give a quick nod. I have noticed. I figured it would have been a rude topic to bring up, though.
“The truth is they don’t even live in Ponyville. Rarity grew up a fair distance away. I only got to see her on the occasional visits, but I loved every second of it.”
I don’t have much extended family, but I think when I was younger we used to visit my grandparents fairly often before they...
I wish I could remember them. Did they look forward to my visits? I wonder.
“My sister passed away before Rarity was born,” she continues. “And so… I effectively became her grandmother in her place. I tried to make her feel at home here, and did my best to make her feel that she would always have family in me.”
Lily’s face grows grim, and my curious mind halts.
“Something happened, and her parents left her on her own. When I found out, I immediately took her in myself. It’s been just over two years since then.”
“I don’t…” I try to ask, but I find my mouth filled with a suffocating dryness.
Her parents… left her?
“Her reasons for wanting a new name are her own. The best I can do is to support her, and provide no judgment. If anything, I’m utterly proud of how she’s found herself. I’m proud of the pony she is and the pony she’s becoming. And when it comes to her name, I’m proud that she took Rarity’s. If there’s any pony out there that can do it justice, it’s her.”
Silence takes over the cottage. I stare blankly down at the scrapbook as I process what I was just told. My mind wanders back, and all I can think of is my meeting with Rarity in the glade. The overwhelming fear I felt… and the look of understanding she wore.
“Miss Lily?” I ask, guiltily.
“Yes, dear?”
“...I’m sorry, but I think I lied to you earlier.”
“Oh?” she responds with a quizzical look.
I nod and squeeze my leg with a hoof. The pressure reassures me somewhat.
“Back when you were asking me who I was… I am Rarity’s friend. Or, at least, I want to be.”
With a smile that’s worth a lifetime, she beams at me. “That’s wonderful, Butterfly! And don’t worry, I’m pretty sure Rarity already sees you that way.”
My eyes open wide in surprise. “She does?”
Lily hums in confirmation, and I feel my heart swell.
“Rarity’s my friend…” I whisper aloud. Another smile spreads across my cheeks.
I meet Lily’s gaze, suddenly keenly aware of what I should have done an hour ago.
“Miss Lily, I want to ask you something. As Rarity’s friend.”
Cresting the top of the stairs to Rarity’s room, I’m surprised to find the unicorn in question sitting on her bed. She’s staring down at an empty plate held in her hooves, and doesn’t seem to notice me or Lily as we approach.
“Rarity?” I reach out.
Rarity jumps at my voice and stands up quickly, turning towards us. Her eyes are puffy and red.
“I’m sorry!” she shouts. Lily and I look at each other in surprise.
“You’re right, Nana, I’ve been acting off today. I’ve been through a lot and I was worrying you. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t want to fight!” she continues, tears threatening to fall once more.
“And Butterfly, I’m sorry I haven’t been a good friend. You got your cutie mark today! Tonight should be about you, but I made everything about me.”
“I’m sorry…” she expresses, looking back down at the floor and clenching her eyes shut.
As Rarity finishes her apologies, I slowly approach. She seems to instinctively lean away from me, but I wrap my legs around her before she can. She remains tense for a moment as I hold her, but before long she returns the embrace.
“It’s OK,” I tell her.
She doesn’t say anything, but remains in the hug for a while.
“I don’t want to fight, either, sweetheart,” Lily says. “I love you. You know that, right?”
Rarity nods into my shoulder.
“And…” Lily continues. “I have something to talk with you about.”
Rarity eventually pulls away from the hug, sniffling. She looks at Lily questioningly.
“...I wanted to apologize, too. Butterfly and I had a talk, and he wanted to reiterate just how important the school play is to you,” Lily tells her. She leans down until she’s eye level with the younger unicorn.
“I never doubted how much it meant to you, but I was caught up in my worry. You mean the world to me, and I was willing to keep the world from you to keep you safe. I was wrong.”
Rarity looks surprised, but still has a hint of doubt. “What do you mean, Nana?” she asks.
“I mean that you should have the chance to chase the dreams you want to chase, no matter what might happen. I’m not going to keep you from the play tonight,” Lily explains.
With a gasp, Rarity turns towards me. The stars in her eyes seem to spark once again as they meet mine. “Butterfly, you…” she whispers.
Reaching behind my back, I unfurl my wings and grab the object I was keeping locked between them. I instruct Rarity to hold out her hooves and place a large green gemstone in them. I return her stunned expression with a smile.
“Th-that’s— This is—” she stammers. “Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
Rarity bounces up off the floor and wraps a leg around each of us, her typical demeanor returning to her.
I lean fully into the hug. The relief I feel is immense.
“Thank you so much!” she shouts again before releasing us. “But… I don’t have time to finish the costumes. The show starts in an hour…”
She looks down, dejected, until Lily raises her chin.
“Well then, I guess we’ll have to rush.”
“‘We’? Nana? You want to—”
“Not just me,” she tells the younger unicorn. “It was Butterfly’s idea to help you finish the costumes.”
Rarity looks at me, surprised, and I stand up to give a twirl.
“I don’t know much about sewing, but I’ve been told I could pass for an earth pony before,” I explain. “I figure I’m probably close to your classmates’ size. If you need a model, you’ve got one.”
Rarity lets out a choked laugh. Hearing it makes my heart flutter.
“I couldn’t ask for one better.”