Such a strange thing, a little thing, to be afraid of.
Rainbow Dash stared at the ocean sapphire with unblinking eyes. Her body was relaxed, stretched out on the bed and seemingly ready for sleep, but a deep current of unease flowed through her gut every time she touched or saw or even thought about the gem, and now here it was, lying between them. Waiting for them.
“How does it work, again?” she mumbled.
Rarity let out a quiet breath. Her eyes were also fixed on the stone, and neither of them had spoken in several minutes. “I’ve only used one once, dear, but it was simple enough. Just squeeze it until it cracks, and a bit of fluid will leak out. Dribble it on my forehead, dribble it on yours, and then you merely fall asleep.”
“Huh.” Dash glanced away from the gem toward Rarity. Her face was unreadable in the dim bedroom, lit only by the faint wash of moonlight spilling in from the window and the luminous glow radiating from the gem. It turned Rarity’s dove-white coat a spectral bluish hue that shifted slowly, like the aurora Dash sometimes saw dancing high above in the winter sky. It seemed almost alive.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Dash?” Rarity’s eyes didn’t leave the gem as she spoke. “I don’t know what Twilight told you about it, but… I don’t think dreams are as harmless as she thinks.”
“My dreams are the dangerous ones, Rares. I think I can handle fashion and Fillydelphia.”
Rarity’s eyes flicked toward Dash’s, and just as quickly they darted back to the gem. She said nothing.
Not the best choice of words, perhaps. Dash swallowed silently and plowed ahead. “So, we just fall asleep? I’m not really that tired.”
“I don’t think it matters how long you wait, as long as it’s before the sunrise. I waited several hours after you fell asleep before using it.”
“Oh.” Dash fidgeted with her hooves for a moment. “So, should we go ahead and use it?”
“Dash…” Rarity let out a longer breath this time and set her head on her folded legs, turned away to face the dark corners of the room. “I know I said you could do this, and I still mean that. And my dreams may be tame compared with yours. But that does not mean they cannot hurt you. That they can’t hurt us.”
“I’ll take that chance.”
“You say that, but you haven’t seen them yet. You haven’t seen the real me, Dash, just this mask I always wear. And believe me, the mask is far, far more pleasant than the reality.”
“I dunno. The reality is pretty pleasant.” She ran her hoof through Rarity’s mane and brushed it along her neck, down between her shoulders, finally letting it rest on her hip.
Rarity shivered. “Flatterer.”
“Since when has that been a problem for you?”
“Touche.” She rolled toward Dash, ending on her back with their sides pressed together. She stared up the darkened ceiling as she spoke. “Dash, I—“
“Rarity, you did this because you wanted to help me, right?” She reached out with a hoof to touch the ocean sapphire. Its light pulsed at the contact, banishing the night’s shadows for a heartbeat. “I don’t know if it did or not, but you saw a deeper part of me than anypony ever has, even Soarin. You saw the nightmares that fly after me. I want to do the same.”
“I don’t have any nightmares.”
“Liar.”
Rarity was silent after that. Her head rolled to the side, and her eyes drifted to the ocean sapphire. “And how will you feel tomorrow morning?”
“I… well, I don’t know.” Dash pressed her muzzle against the side of Rarity’s neck and inhaled deeply. Lilac and fresh-spun cotton. “But I’ll still love you.”
Silence again. Rarity’s throat bobbed, and she gave Dash a jerky nod.
Okay, then. Dash’s lips were suddenly dry, and she licked them with an equally dry tongue. Steeling herself, she lowered her head to the sheets and grasped the ocean sapphire in her teeth. A tingling sensation, like biting down on a live wire or flying through a thunderstorm, filled her mouth.
Squeeze it until it cracks. Part of her mind rebelled against the idea of biting down on a gemstone – she was not Spike, after all – but she slowly clenched her jaw until a quiet crack echoed through the room. They both flinched at the sound, but there was no pain and she didn’t taste blood, so it probably wasn’t one of her teeth breaking. Immediately, the faint scent of junipers flooded her muzzle, and the electric tingle on her tongue doubled.
She leaned over Rarity’s prone form and let the magic drops drizzle onto her forehead. Rarity didn’t even blink as they speckled her face and muzzle, despite a few drops of what Dash was pretty sure was saliva mixed in there as well. She mumbled a weak apology around the gemstone.
And then it was her turn. She spit the gem onto her hoof and rolled it between her eyes, across her forehead and down her muzzle to her nose. She didn’t seem to get quite as much of the liquid as Rarity, but the scent of junipers was there all the same.
She set the cracked, black gem on the sheets. No more light spilled out from its heart. “Do you think that’s enough?” she whispered.
Rarity didn’t answer, not out loud. Instead she leaned over and pressed her face against Dash’s. The droplets splattered there mingled, and a hot, wet tongue drew across Dash’s lips and up along her cheek.
“Yes,” Rarity whispered back. “Now, we go to sleep.” So saying, she nestled her cheek against Dash’s shoulder and closed her eyes. Her breathing stretched out and out, until only the slow rise and fall of her chest broke the stillness of the night.
Right, just go to sleep. Dash touched a hoof to her lips, making sure they were real, that she had not imagined all this. She gulped and set her head down, just inches away from Rarity’s, and let her eyes close. Thoughts raced through her mind: Rarity’s tongue, the scent of junipers, the warm weight against her side, Soarin’s laugh, the twisted scar and phantom pain in her left leg, cinders blowing on a hot wind, and love, and loss, and love and loss all chasing each other across her brain, spiraling around like a whirlpool, slowly sinking toward the center, toward the hollow maw of night that swallowed her thoughts, leaving only ghosts and darkness in its wake.
* * *
Dash woke in a fog.
Literally, a fog. She could not see through the mists around her, so thick were they. The air was hot and muggy as a swamp, and within seconds her coat dripped with water. She fanned her wings to keep them from becoming sodden as well, but only managed to stir eddies of the mist.
Fair enough. She was a weather pony, after all. Her stance shifted along with her focus, and the mists slowly began to clear. Puddles of warm water grew around her hooves as the fog condensed, revealing the room around her.
It was the spa, or rather, a spa. It was far too large to be the one from Ponyville – the tiled floor extended for dozens of paces before reaching marble walls that rose far above her head. Clouds blocked her sight of the ceiling. Before her, a row of recessed pools, each larger than her entire bedroom, filled the air with tendrils of steam. The burble of flowing water, like a gentle waterfall, echoed throughout the chamber as some hidden mechanism kept the pools fresh.
“Well, hello darling,” a voice sounded from behind her. It was smooth and cultured and carried the hint of a noble accent. “I was wondering when you were going to show up.”
“Hey, Rares,” Dash said, starting to turn. “Where is this…” She trailed off, her mouth hanging open at the sight before her.
Rarity was in one of the pools, but it was not filled with water, nor was she quite the pony Dash remembered. Only her head and shoulders were visible above the mud bath, but her features were longer, more refined. Her muzzle was slender like the princesses’, and her horn tapered to a long, sharp point. Dash knew that, were Rarity to stand from the pool, she would be the much taller of the two.
“You, uh… you look different.”
“I do, I suppose.” Rarity lifted a leg and held it before her, watching as the mud slowly dripped from it back into the pool. The limb was longer and more slender than Dash recalled. “This is an ideal. A more beautiful, elegant me, one that exists only in my… well, in my dreams. Thus, this.” She waved her leg at their surroundings.
“You’re already beautiful.”
A ghost of a smile appeared on the not-Rarity’s lips. “Flatterer.”
Dash smiled too. “Not a problem, remember?” She paused and glanced around. “So, where are we?”
“Like I said, a dream.” Rarity tilted her head toward a steaming pool of water just beside her. “Won’t you join me?”
Dash started to defer, but before her mouth even opened to speak, her surroundings shifted. Darkness swallowed her for the blink of an eye, and when she was whole again, she was submerged up to her neck in the waters.
Interesting.
Rarity smiled at her from the next pool over. Definitely taller. For a moment Dash felt like a foal again, until she remembered why they were there.
“Rarity, where uh, where are we?”
“We’re sleeping on a bed in Sweetie Belle’s house in Ponyville, of course. Or perhaps we’re in a spa, trying to relax. Or we’re in some imaginary, magical fabrication, a living dream, and none of this is real.” Rarity paused to take a sip from a flute of wine that hadn’t been there a second ago. “Depends on your perspective, I suppose.”
“It wasn’t like this last time.”
Rarity shrugged. The mud pool around her squelched unpleasantly. “Dreams are fluid things, Dash. They’re almost never the same twice.”
“Mine are,” Dash whispered.
Rarity held her tongue for several long seconds after that. “Your situation is different,” she said at last.
“Or maybe not so different.”
“Mm.” Rarity took a final swallow from the wine flute. She leaned over the edge of the pool and crossed her forelegs on the tiles, smearing them with mud. “That’s your fundamental mistake, darling, thinking that you two are alike. You are a good pony, one of the best in the world in fact. Loyal, loving, brave. You are nothing like that slut sharing your bed.”
What. What. Dash blinked at Rarity, stunned into silence. She could not believe – could not comprehend – what she had just heard. “Wh… what?”
“You heard me. That whore sleeping next to you. Rainbow Dash, if you knew the slightest bit of what she did in Fillydelphia, you wouldn’t be so quick to kiss her.” The false Rarity – and she had to be false, this could not be real – turned her face to the ceiling and chuckled. It was a bitter, cruel sound, one that never should have emerged from such a beautiful throat. “She is filthy, Dash. A sewer. Nothing worthy of you.”
“You… you’re lying!” Dash tried to rise from the pool, but the bottom seemed endlessly deep, leaving her nothing to stand on. She flailed and grabbed at the side; the slick tiles offered her hooves no purchase, and it was all she could do not to sink beneath the steaming water. “What is this? What are you?!”
“I? I am the only honest part of Rarity that’s left.” The thing stretched its long, elegant neck. Under other circumstances, Dash would have wept at the sight and begged to kiss its alabaster perfection. “The Rarity you know? That’s the lie, Dash.”
“No! You’re some kind of monster, stuck in her mind.” Dash panted for breath and tried again to rise from the pool. Nothing she did seemed to make a difference. “Well, I know about you now! I can beat you! Our friends can beat you!”
Rarity rose partway from the pool. The mud clinging to her perfect body seemed darker against her gleaming coat, almost black. “Ah, and that is why you are such a good pony, Dash. You are loyal and you care about your friends. You are also a fool.”
“Fuck you!”
Rarity smirked. The expression was a perfect fit for her perfect, cruel face. “Loyal, caring, and a bit vulgar too. Tell me, Dash, what is my special talent?”
The sudden change in topic jolted her, and for a moment Dash forgot the angry heat building in her chest. “It’s, uh… like, something about gems, right? You can find them?”
“That’s an ability, yes, and a helpful one. But what makes me special, Dash? What am I so famous for?”
Being a drama queen? That didn’t seem like quite the right thing to say, though, so Dash hazarded a second guess. “Fashion?”
“Very good!” Rarity smiled, and her face shone with beauty again. “Fashion, but more fundamentally, Dash, deceit. Lying. Disguises. The Rarity you know is nothing more than a carefully crafted layer of masks, one on top of the other. The one she wears in private, sharing your bed, it may seem like she’s letting her guard down with you, but it’s just another mask. She wears dozens, and the deepest one of all is to fool herself. To make believe that she’s still a good pony, just like you and the girls.”
“That’s not true! She’s kind, and smarter than any of us except Twilight, and she’s the most generous pony who ever lived. She would give up anything for us!”
“Oh, that’s a lie, I’m afraid.” The dream-Rarity braced her forelegs on the tile rim of the pool and pushed herself up. She towered above Dash. “There is one thing she hoards, that she will never share. That she can never share. And if you persist in this foolish lying with her, she will hurt you. She cannot help it.”
Dash stared up at her, mute. Her lips moved, but she could not form the words. Rarity stared down at her in silence. The mud coating her seemed thicker, somehow. Darker, like liquid night, and it shone like polished obsidian.
“I don’t understand,” Dash finally said. Her voice was soft and weak as a foal’s.
Rarity glanced away. “I know, but it’s too late now. You should not have used that gem. Now we are both trapped here, and this will end the only way it can.”
She stepped toward Dash, and for the first time Dash noticed the air around her shimmering, like above a candle’s flame. An odd, acrid stench filled her nostrils as Rarity drew closer, searing her lungs and stinging her eyes. She tried to scoot away, but only managed to back herself into the pool’s corner.
Rarity set a hoof beside Dash, and the water around it instantly began to boil. The black, slimy mud – no, not mud, something else entirely – dripped from her body, forming little coins that floated on the water’s surface and immediately set it to steaming. An intense, choking heat poured from her, like she was a living furnace.
“Have you never heard the saying, darling?” Rarity sank the rest of the way into the water, and curtain of steam erupted around her. Dash felt more than saw Rarity’s legs, still coated in that vile black slime, reach out and grasp her in a burning embrace. The blue hairs of her coat began to char. Her feathers wilted and blackened and started to burn. Her grip was impossibly strong, and none of Dash’s frantic thrashing, even as she began to cook, could free her from it.
Rarity pressed her lips against Dash’s ear and whispered, “One cannot touch pitch without becoming defiled."
Rainbow Dash started to scream. And then she woke up.
But not really.
* * *
"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"
Rainbow Dash couldn't help the tiny smile that appeared on her lips. She was used to compliments – especially about her looks – but that didn't make them any less cherished. Her ear flicked, as though chasing away a fly, and she took a sip of wine from her glass before answering.
"Yes, in fact, you did." Another sip. "By all means, continue."
"Well, where to start?" The pegasus opposite the restaurant's small booth placed his forelegs on the tablecloth and leaned forward, eyeing her up and down in a manner that would have been untoward in other circumstances. "Your mane, I suppose. I know you don't spend hours in front of the mirror, brushing it endlessly, but that's certainly how it looks. It sparkles with gold highlights from these candles, and no princess ever wore a garment so rich and deeply indigo, like the border of a rainbow."
"Mm." Dash liked where this was heading. "Go on."
"More? Very well. Your coat is flawless, white as clouds in the noontime sun. Your legs, oh Dash, I could spend hours praising them, slender and shapely and strong." He leaned forward again, so close that their noses nearly touched, and trapped her gaze with his own. "But it's your eyes that I love the most, I think. They're like... they're like sapphires, deep as the ocean. I could spend a lifetime staring into them, lost in them, drowning in them. Just like this."
At last, she blushed. "Flatterer." Before he could retort, she darted forward to place a chaste kiss on his lips. At least, it started out chaste; by the time it was done, their tips of their tongues were wet with each other's saliva, and Dash could hear the couples around them tittering in amusement. She ignored them and kept her eyes on her date.
Cedar Breeze's eyes were closed as he leaned back into his seat. He was smiling, but that was hardly unusual – he always seemed to smile when they were together, and it was infectious. Rarely did more than five minutes pass in his company before Dash was smiling as well, the worries and stresses of running her Boutique forgotten.
"And that's very florid, even for you," she continued. "Did you practice while I was getting dressed?"
"All day, actually. Not much else to do when I'm staring at the wall all shift."
"Mm, I thought it sounded a bit rehearsed. I liked the part about my eyes, though. You should do that more often."
"What, practice? Or compliment your eyes?"
She made a show of considering her answer. "Both."
"Why stop at your eyes?" He reached across the table and set his hoof atop hers. Holding it gently, he leaned forward to whisper. "May I praise your flanks as well? Firm and smooth and perfectly shaped?"
Dash blushed. "Cedar, ponies will hear you!" she hissed, but she couldn't help the traitorous smile on her lips.
"Or what about your tongue?" he continued, still quietly, just for her. "It's... well, I can't really think of any way to compliment it, but I love what it does."
"Now you're being silly. Vulgar, even." She floated the wine glass back to her lips for another sip. "Don't stop."
"Very well." He pressed his cheek against hers, and whispered into her ear. "I love your skin, the way it tastes when I nibble it. I love your scent, especially when you skip those flowery perfumes. I love how taut your belly is, and how hard your nipples get when—"
"Cedar!" She shoved him away, laughing. It was the loudest sound in the restaurant, and momentarily drew every eye their way.
She didn't care. The fit of giggles took a minute to pass, and she helped herself to another sip of wine. Cedar grinned and did the same.
Always such a delight to be around. Dash heard Rarity's voice in her mind. She glanced around, distracted, searching for its source, but when nothing followed she turned back to Cedar. If he noticed anything amiss, it didn't show on his face.
"You're incorrigible, you know?" she said. "Are all pegasi like this?"
"Just the handsome ones." He took a moment to fluff his wings. They were a dark blonde color, as of his namesake, and contrasted pleasantly with his dusty green mane and tail. Both were cut short – 'in regs,' as he often said.
"You know, mother always told me there were humble stallions in the world. Someday I hope to meet one."
"It's a big world, anything could happen." He seemed about to say more, but at that moment their waitress arrived, a small notepad floating in the air beside her. He quickly snatched up his menu and pawed through it. "Uh, you go first."
Stallions. She shook her head and gave the menu a quick look, more out of habit than any need to read it; she'd known what she was ordering even before she made the reservation that afternoon. "I'll have the eggplant parmesan, please, with the basil and daffodil couscous. Light on the basil."
The waitress jotted her order down. "And for the gentlestallion?"
"Uh..." Cedar flipped through the menu again, eventually ending back on the first page. "I'll have the house salad."
"The salad?" Dash asked. "Come now, darling, we're having dinner at a nice restaurant. You can do better than a house salad."
"Yeah, but..." He glanced down at the menu, and for a moment a light rose blush tinted his cheeks. "You know."
"And I told you, don't worry about that. I don't mind."
The blush remained, even as he nodded. "Okay, I'll have the, uh, the lentil-stuffed peppers, with a cup of the Prench onion soup."
"Excellent choices. We'll have those right out." The waitress snapped her notebook shut, collected their menus, and vanished toward the kitchen, leaving the couple in silence.
The silence extended.
It became uncomfortable.
Finally, it was too much. They both started to speak, running over each others words, and just as quickly they both shut up.
Cedar shifted his wings. "You first."
"Fine, sorry." Dash let out a quiet breath. "I told you, you don't have to be embarrassed. I wouldn't have made a reservation here if I didn't want you to have a nice meal."
"I'm not embarrassed." He fidgeted under her gaze. "Okay, maybe I am. A little. But this food costs more than I make in an entire day."
"So? You're not paying for it."
"That doesn't help."
"Well, I'm sorry." She set the wine glass down on the table a bit more firmly than necessary. "I'm sorry for wanting a fine meal at a fine restaurant with some fine company. I can buy the first two, but it seems the last is slipping from my grasp."
"That's not what I meant, and you know it." He ruffled his wings in aggravation. "Look, let's just talk about something else."
"Fine." She paused. "Have you put in your application yet?"
His posture shifted. Not many ponies would have noticed, but she was something of an expert at body language. "No."
"I thought the deadline was coming up this week?"
"Yeah, it is." He let out a long, slow breath. "I don't think I'm going to go for it."
Easy. Easy. Dash took her time before answering. "I think you're ready for it, darling. You'll be accepted."
"I know, the captain said I had the record for it. I just... I'm not sure I want to be an officer."
"So, you just want to be a guard forever?"
He sat up straighter. "It's an honorable profession. Plenty of ponies serve the princesses for their entire lives, just that way."
"Yes, but you could get a title! Being an officer is almost like being a noble. Haven't you ever dreamed about that?"
wait dream what did i dream why am i
"I dreamed about joining the Guard. I did. How many ponies can say they've achieved their dreams?"
"Officers can afford nice meals," she countered.
"Enlisted ponies get free meals."
"Yes, but you wouldn't have to be embarrassed when I pay for you." She sighed. "Please, just think about it before it's too late."
He nodded. "No promises, though."
She waved a hoof. "None needed. Now, please, let's talk about something else."
"Fine, fine." He waited until she was taking a sip from her wine before continuing. "We could talk about your nipples again."
She choked, and then there was wine everywhere. "Cedar!" she hissed, already trying and failing to hold in a scandalized laugh. The chatter around them momentarily quieted as the other patrons paused to see what the excitement was.
"What?" He held an expression of perfect innocence on his face. "You wanted a new subject."
"You're hopeless, you know that?" With some effort she managed to banish her smile, and daintily mopped up the spray of wine with her napkin. "What am I going to do with you?"
"Oh, I could think of a few things." He looked like he was about to name some of those things, other ponies be damned, but just then a waitress arrived with their meals on a tray, and embarrassed or not he tucked into his dish like pegasi always did – with complete abandon, as though their life depended on inhaling their food as rapidly as possible.
She shook her head, smiled, and took a dainty bite from her eggplant. Delicious.
The rest of the evening passed like a dream. She remembered paying for their food, and pretending not to notice the humiliation evident on Cedar's face. She remembered walking out into the street, just a little tipsy from the wine, and using it as an excuse to lean against Cedar's side. She remembered how lithe and full of energy he felt, and how he used his wing to shield her from a light evening rainshower that sprinkled the cobblestones with dark spots and washed away the ever present scent of soot in the air, leaving the whole town smelling fresh and clean.
She remembered reaching her studio, and the kiss they stole beneath her porchlight. She remembered opening the door, and both of them heading straight for her bedroom – they had done this enough times to skip the theater of the couch and offered drinks.
And then they were on her bed, lying side by side. Dash nibbled at his ear, and then leaned her head away, exposing the length of her neck to his lips. He kissed a wet trail down her jaw to her shoulder, and pushed his muzzle into her mane to take a deep breath.
Dash giggled. "What are you doing?"
He let out a long, deep sigh, the heat of his breath sending shivers down her back. "Getting drunk on your scent."
"Ah, very good." She turned her head back to catch his mouth, and they settled into a long lingering kiss. It began simply enough, with just their lips pressed against each other, suckling on one another, but soon she felt the tip of his tongue, and she met it with her own. Probing, teasing, wrestling with each other.
Dash could have kissed him for hours. On other days, lazy days when the shop was closed and Cedar was off duty, they would sometimes lay next to each other all afternoon, doing nothing but kiss, and doze, and wake to kiss again. It was one of her favorite ways to pass the time.
But tonight was heading down a different path, one she enjoyed just as much. Even as they kissed, she felt Cedar's tail flicking against her flanks. She smiled around their kiss and flicked back with her tail, the end result being two tails gently tangled in each other, tugging each other in time to their kisses.
Dash wasn't sure how it felt for stallions, but for mares, having one's tail tugged was either extremely unpleasant or rather enjoyable, depending on the circumstances. Right now, lying in bed with her lover, her tongue hot and slick alongside his, it felt delightful, and already the warmth in her chest was slowly migrating down her belly to settle between her legs. She moaned into him and rolled away, ending up on her side.
He followed, gently wrapping his foreleg around her shoulder to cradle her head. One of his rear legs pressed against her thighs, and she parted them just enough for their legs to intertwine. All the while, their long, single kiss continued unbroken.
And then his lips were gone, and she let out a quiet whine. He mumbled something soft in her ear, and then his lips were back, pressing against her neck and chest and down her belly. She cooed in delight, and gasped when his teeth plucked at her coat. The little stings they left stoked the fire in her chest, and she pushed his head lower, toward her parted legs.
He stopped just shy of her groin, and she felt the rough stubble of his chin rub against one of her nipples. It was a harsh sensation, just shy of pain, and she gasped in a tiny breath before letting it out in a long, helpless shudder as his tongue gently laved over the stiffening point. His teeth closed on it gently, holding it in place while the tip of his tongue flicked across it. She moaned again, her back arching away from the mattress.
After a few minutes of this delicious torture he switched to her other nipple, and the hard rim of his hoof brushed the back of her thighs. She held her breath, waiting, and soon enough he traced the outline of her lips with his gentle touch. Her heart beat so hard her chest shook, and she whined again, desperate this time.
Hours later they reclined in each others legs, sweaty and sticky and exhausted. She would feel filthy in the morning, she knew, but at that particular moment she felt not soiled but rather satisfied, the way she imagined Applejack did when she was lathered with sweat and dust after a long, hard day of work. Wearing the marks and stains on her body with pride, for they proved that she was a mare to be desired. That she could arouse her stallion and consume his lusts, in ways both literal and figurative.
Cedar mumbled something into her chest. She flicked an ear toward him, but already his eyes were closed, and his barrel rose and fell in slow, even waves.
This was a life worth living. She could laugh with him during their days and share her body with him at night. It wasn't even a bother to pay for their meals together – now that the Boutique was a going concern, bits weren't as much of an issue. They could be happy together.
Element of Generosity, successful business pony and fashion magnate, mated to a lowly guard who spent his days standing at attention in the palace, staring at the walls all shift, waiting for a war that would never come. A stallion who wanted nothing more than to serve, and be satisfied with his humble station.
He was such a gentle soul, kind and loving. Rarity’s voice sounded in her mind. I think I might have been happy with him. How would things have ended, then?
Three days later, she broke up with him.
* * *
"So, this is home, huh?" Cloud Fire stuck his head out the port window as their train pulled into Ponyville station. It was a bright, cloudless June morning, and already the town was abuzz with ponies preparing for the show. "Bigger than I expected."
"Yeah, it's grown a bit since I left." Dash tried to peer past Cloudy's shoulder to see the town, but the window was too small for two ponies. She butted his shoulder with her forehead, and when that didn't work she grabbed his mane with her teeth and yanked him back into the carriage. "Stop hogging the view, sheesh."
"Oh come on, you've seen this town a thousand times." He flicked his tail at her flank with just enough zip to make her jump, and then settled back onto his seat before she could retaliate. "Besides, you've seen one small town, you've seen 'em all."
"Most towns, maybe, but not Ponyville. Ponyville... well, Ponyville's just different." Dash stretched her neck, trying to see the frosted gables of Sugarcube Corner, or the slim banners flying above the Carousel Boutique. Both were still hidden in the colorful chaos of Ponyville, now larger than she remembered, but in the distance, above the garish roofs and steepled buildings, she could see the bright sparks of Twilight's castle shining through the haze. The sight brought a smile to her face, and for a moment her wings ached to stretch and launch her from the slowing train, ceremony be damned, and fly to find her friends.
But no, that was the old, immature Dash thinking. The New Dash, the Wonder Bolt, was disciplined. Temptation was nothing to her; she could sit for hours, if that's what it took, without twitching a muscle. She would be professional, and greet the townsponies who had come to meet the train, and not look twice for her friends until the welcome ceremony was done.
She kept telling herself that, and her wings kept fluttering at her side. She sighed quietly and slumped back into the carriage and onto her seat.
Cloud Fire raised an eyebrow. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah, just... you know. I haven't seen them since I left."
"So? They'll be there."
"What if they're not? What if they're busy and, you know... this just wasn't important enough?"
He quirked a smile at her. "Well, then I'll be here."
Heh, true enough. She glanced down at the shaking, squealing floor as the train's wheels slowed to a stop. The entire carriage lurched, and finally they were still.
"Yeah, you will be." She smiled at him. "Thanks, Lieutenant Fire."
He grinned. "You're welcome, Lieutenant Dash. Shall we?"
"In a moment. Spitfire said she wants us to dis-something-or-other at the same time."
"Disembark?"
"Yeah, that." She turned back to the window, and they fell into an easy, comfortable silence. They had been lovers long enough now that there was no awkward need to fill the space between them with words. They could be like two rocks, sitting side-by-side in the forest.
"I didn't realize this meant so much to you," a new voice, familiar, sounded to her left. Dash turned to see Rarity sitting on the seat beside her.
"Oh, hey Rares," Dash said. "Yeah, I mean, it was my first time back as a Wonder Bolt. All those years of telling you girls about my dreams... I must've had a dozen different fantasies for how I would come back, flying in with my uniform, leading a formation of Bolts, streaking across the sky... It was, uh, kinda silly, I guess."
"Not silly," Rarity said. "Every filly has dreams about impressing her friends. But, if I may ask, why come back on a train?"
"It's how the team travels." Dash waved a hoof toward Cloud Fire, who was watching them silently. Outside, the rush of town life seemed to have slowed to an intangible stop. Trees still blew in the wind, and she heard the rustle of leaves, but life had otherwise come to a pause, as if the whole world were waiting for something. "I mean, we could fly, but all of our equipment and support ponies need to get here too. So usually we just take the train."
"Ah, that's very..." she paused, thinking. "Practical, I guess. Surprising, really."
"Yeah, surprised me too."
They were quiet again. Outside, the babble of town began to intrude again, and Dash felt the carriage shake as ponies began moving about other parts of the train.
"So, what happens next?" Rarity asked.
"There's a bit of a ceremony on the platform. Spitfire introduces us, the mayor welcomes us, I think a few fillies give us some art they made in class. It's kind of dorky, but it's fun, too." Dash looked out the window again, and she felt a small smile sneak into her lips. "Oh, the girls were there, too. They were all so excited to see me."
"It sounds wonderful," Rarity said. Her voice was soft and tinged with melancholy. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there."
"Don't worry. It was fine. You were busy with that fashion show."
"There were other shows. I could have skipped one."
"Then you'd be giving up your dreams, just so I could have mine. What kind of friend would that make me?"
Silence again. Dash heard the rustle of the cushion as Rarity scooted closer, and then her weight settled against Dash's side. A warm breath tickled her mane as she whispered in Dash's ear. "A loved one."
"Yeah." Another pause. "But you didn't come."
"I know. I'm sorry."
Across from them, Cloud Fire stood and stretched. He flicked his tail at Dash and stepped out into the aisle. "C'mon, we'll be late."
They watched him go. "Well, shall we?" Dash asked.
Rarity nodded. "Let's."
* * *
Rainbow Dash frowned at the bruschetta floating before her. Only half of the cracker remained; the rest was still in her mouth, slowly being chewed to a pulp and begrudgingly swallowed. Something about it was off – the tomato unripe, or perhaps a bit of leaf had somehow gotten caught in the mix. She glanced around the room at the rest of the dinner party, and when she was sure nopony was looking her way, dumped the rest of the hors d'oeuvre in a potted plant.
You'd think they'd have better snacks. Ah well. She levitated a flute of wine back to her lips and took a healthy drink to wash away the sour aftertaste.
"Having fun yet?" a feminine voice whispered in her ear. Dash jumped and turned to see a slender earth pony mare smiling at her from just a few inches away.
"Oh, Cinnabar, you startled me." Dash leaned forward to press her cheek against her friend's. "And of course, I can't thank you enough for inviting me."
"Mhm." Cinnabar picked up a piece of bruschetta and popped it whole into her mouth. Apparently she didn't mind the taste. "Then why are you over here in the corner moping?"
"What? I am not moping." Dash frowned at the cinnamon-coated mare. "I'm just, ah, catching my breath."
"Oh? Were you doing a few laps around the house when I wasn't watching?" She gave Dash a gentle nudge in the ribs, which, since Cinnabar was an earth pony, nearly knocked the wind out of her. "Come on, join the party."
"Actually, I was thinking I might just—waagh!" Whatever Dash was thinking of doing lost any relevance as Cinnabar grabbed her mane with her teeth and dragged her back toward the lounge and the small herd mingling there. Dash barely had time to straighten her hair before the nearest ponies turned toward them.
"There you are, Cinny," a tall, older unicorn mare said. She had at least three glasses of wine in various states of fullness floating in her vicinity. Her voice held a certain distinction, as though each syllable carried with it the weight of the world, and she knew it. It was an accent Dash could imagine herself with someday. "I thought you might have abandoned us. Who's your friend?"
Cinnabar pushed her way into the circle of ponies, easily clearing enough room for Dash as well – again, earth pony. "I could hardly abandon my own party, Belladonna. My wine cellar would never recover." She gave Dash a little nudge toward the unicorn. "Anyway, this is Rainbow Dash, the new designer I was telling you about. She owns that boutique that was featured on Inside Fillydelphia last month."
"Oh yes!" Belladonna clasped Dash's hoof and leaned forward to place a light kiss on her cheek. "I've heard so much about you, dear. I'd welcome you to Fillydelphia and all, but I understand you've already been here for some time."
"Yes, well, a few months," Dash said. "More like a year, now that I think about it. I'm terribly glad to have my own shop again, and very grateful for the warm reception I've received from the ponies of Fillydelphia."
"Ah, a diplomat, too," Belladonna said. She finished off one of her three wine glasses and set it on an empty table. "I'll have to stop by your establishment the next time I'm in the district. My husband keeps complaining that I spend too much on clothes, but it's my money and I'll do what I want with it."
"That sounds very reasonable–"
"And if he doesn't like it, he can go live with that mistress of his! They can walk naked through the streets for all I care!"
"Ah..." Dash leaned back, and noticed Cinnabar rolling her eyes.
"Donna, you're yelling again," Cinnabar said. "Go get another drink."
"Mm, excellent idea." The older mare grinned at Cinnabar and stalked away into the crowd, trailed by her still-full drinks. "Hello there, young stallion..." Her voice faded into the babble and was lost.
"Sorry about that," Cinnabar said. "Belladonna can be a little... hm, eccentric, especially when she's had a few."
"I noticed. Do you think it's wise for her to have any more?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, she's a hoot when she's drunk. None of these stallions will be safe." Cinnabar snickered. "Speaking of stallions, where's yours?"
Dash stiffened. "I'm sorry, my what?"
"That colt of yours. You know, the guard?"
Dash knew this moment was coming, of course. One could hardly end a stable relationship without having to deal with a few social consequences, or somehow manage to keep the affair from her friends. She took another swig from her wine, let it burn on her tongue for a moment, and swallowed.
"Yes, Cedar. I'm afraid... well, things didn't work out for us."
Cinnabar froze, her own glass frozen a few inches from her lips. Her eyes widened, and she stared at Dash for an uncomfortable heartbeat.
"You... you two broke up?"
Dash noded. "Yes, it was mutual. And amicable. No hard feelings, of course."
"But... oh my gosh, Dash, I'm sorry. Are you alright?"
She nodded again. "Oh, of course I am. These things happen, Cinnabar. We both realized, well, that we weren't quite right for each other, and we didn't want to continue a relationship that only would have ended in tears."
Cinnabar frowned. She set her glass down on a stylish credenza that cost more than Dash's boutique made in a month, and gently guided Dash over to a quiet spot in the room, away from the rest of the crowd. "That's true, but you two always seemed so happy together. Are you sure about this?"
So happy. Dash closed her eyes, remembering the laughter and the smile she could never seem to keep from her face around him. She remembered the lazy afternoons spent lying by his side, doing nothing but exchange kisses and whisper in each other's ears.
And then she remembered the expression on ponies' faces when she introduced him at parties. The slightly widened eyes, followed quickly by gushing praise for his service as a guard. The empty, patronizing prattle that flowed so easily from rich ponies when speaking to the hard-working poor.
"We just weren't compatible," she mumbled.
"Well." Cinnabar let out a huff. "Well, again, I'm very sorry to hear that, Dash. If you need to talk to anypony, you know I'm always here for you, right?"
"Oh, of course, Cinny." Dash leaned over to press her cheek against Cinnabar's strong neck. "I'll be fine. I am fine. Now, go back to your party. The guests are probably all wondering what we're conspiring about."
"Hm." Cinnabar glanced over the rest of the room. The other ponies were mingling around the hors d'oeuvres table and near the bar, and didn't seem to be paying them much attention at all. "Dash, as long as there's food and liquor, I think we could set this place on fire and they wouldn't notice."
That drew a chuckle from her. "Well, it's a nice house. I wouldn't want to do that." She gave Cinnabar's flank a gentle nudge. "Come on, let's go talk."
The next hours passed in a blur. Normally Dash could chat with stone, but after her confession to Cinnabar, she found herself letting other ponies do most of the talking. Only when the conversation turned to matters of fashion or her new boutique did she open her mouth. It felt odd to be so reserved, but judging from the soft looks she caught other ponies giving her, word must have spread about her break-up with Cedar.
She was on her fourth or fifth glass of wine (or, perhaps, seventh – things were getting a bit blurry by that point) when she noticed a new pony standing a polite distance away. His coat was unusual, almost as white as hers, but shot through with blue hairs, lending the entire affair a silverish hue. It was striking, and she spent a few bleary moments blinking at him before the rest of her mind caught up.
"Oh, er, hello," she said, and immediately cursed herself. "I mean, good evening, sir."
"Good evening, my lady," he said. "I hope I'm not disturbing you." There was a smile on his lips and an intensity in his eyes that was rare to see in the gentle ponies of high society, as though his gaze were a knife in search of a sheath. His mane, a dark, subdued blue like denim, was combed back, but fashionably so, not like the greased mops so many city ponies wore. He was naked – unusual but not uncommon in Fillydelphia – except for a simple cravat tied around his neck. A speck of light sparkled from the white cloth, and Dash peered closer to see a small pin fashioned from gold in the shape of a hummingbird, a tiny diamond clutched in its claws.
Well, hello indeed. Dash felt a slight flush on her cheek, which might have just been the wine, but regardless this was still an interesting-looking pony. An interesting-looking stallion.
"Not at all, sir," she said, her head tilted ever so slightly to the side, which simultaneously expressed a demure attitude while exposing the long line of her neck. "I was just occupied with some thoughts, and didn't notice your approach."
"Well, it was not my intent to sneak up you." He stepped a bit closer, enough that they could speak in quiet tones and still be heard over the gentle murmur of the party. "Are you a friend of Cinnabar's?"
"Yes, we met during the Fantasia last fall. She's on the board, and it was my first time appearing, and she stopped by the night before the opening to check on me, to make sure I was ready with everything. We spent hours talking, and she helped me finish with the setup, and now she's probably my closest friend." Dash paused. "In Fillydelphia."
The stallion smiled. "That sounds like her. One of the kindest ponies I've ever met. She owns all this," he motioned with his hoof to encompass the mansion around them, "but if you met her on the street, you'd think she was the pony next door."
She was a good friend, Rarity's voice sounded silently. Dash's ears flicked at the sudden intrusion, but she kept her gaze on the stallion before her. I think, of all the rich and glamorous ponies I met in Fillydelphia, she was one of the few who would have been just as happily at home in Ponyville.
Dash raised an eyebrow. "Are the rich more ostentatious in your experience?"
"Sadly, yes. Though, my neighbors are rather wealthy as well."
"I work with fashion, sir. Ostentatious is not always a bad thing." She took another sip from her wine, and smiled at him to disarm the sting from her words. "I'm pleased to meet you, by the way. Rainbow Dash."
He reached out with a hoof, which Dash tapped with her own. "The pleasure is mine. Looking Glass, at your service."
* * *
Rainbow Dash looked around the dark, featureless plain in confusion. Powdery grey dust covered the ground beneath her feet, extending outward in all directions until it vanished beyond the distant horizon. Above her the sky rose in a black, starless vault. There was no sun, nor moon, nor any source of light that she could see, just the infinite stillness of the grey plain and the hammering of her heart in her chest.
"Up here, darling."
Dash spun around to see a set of stairs rising from the dust, stepping higher and higher until it became a narrow ribbon against the empty black sky. Nothing seemed to support it, yet it hung there like a string from a kite. Whatever voice had called to her was lost atop its olympian heights.
She set her hoof upon the first step, and the next, and the next and the next, until the details of the ground were lost, and it became a monochrome swell of grey and darker grey, like a heaving ocean frozen in time. She stared down at the vast wasteland until its enormity overwhelmed her, and she closed her eyes to escape it.
Higher, something whispered in her mind. She turned back to the empty sky and the ranks of stairs marching toward the absent heavens, and she took another step. And another, and another, until the barren world was miles beneath her. For hours she climbed, and days, and nights, and days and nights that were all the same, for there was no sun nor moon to mark the passage of time. Timelessly she climbed, while years passed around her and the invisible stars shifted in the black firmament, and ages passed into dust, and still she climbed, higher and higher, until the world beneath her was nothing but a tiny speck of light, the only star in the infinite, all-encompassing darkness that was her universe, and all that remained was her and the stairs above her and the voice that whispered in her mind, beckoning her one step more. Tirelessly she climbed, for there was nothing in her soul but that single imperative: Higher.
And then the stairs came to an end at a modest platform just a few yards on edge. It was as plain and featureless as the stairs, but in the center stood an enormous throne, wide and high-backed, crafted from pure gold that shone in the sunless darkness. A red velvet cushion covered the seat, and stretched out atop it, her chin and forelegs draped over the throne's arm, was Rarity. Not the Rarity that was Dash's friend, but the false Rarity, the evil one, Rarity the beautiful and graceful and tall.
"Hello, darling," the monster said in her liquid voice. "I'm glad you made it. I was getting worried."
"I'm not your darling," Dash shot back. She set a careful hoof on the platform, and when it seemed to hold, she stepped fully onto it. A hot, metallic stink filled her nose, and the bright colors of the gold throne and crimson cushion and, of course, the brilliant indigo waves of Rarity's mane stung her eyes after so long staring into the darkness. "What is this? Where are we?"
"You keep asking that question. We haven't moved, darling, we are still lying in bed together in Sweetie Belle's home in Ponyville. Or we're in an imaginary construct filled with all sorts of deep insights into your slut friend's mind. Isn't that what you're here for?"
Dash flinched. "Don't... don't use that word. Rarity is a beautiful pony and you don't know the first thing about her."
"Oh, she is beautiful, I'll grant you that. Not that it's done her much good."
Dash took a wary step closer to the throne. The metallic stink, like burning iron, grew stronger. "She was happy, though, wasn't she? With Cedar?"
"She was, yes. As happy as you were with Soarin."
That stung, but only for a moment. "Why did she break off their relationship?"
"Why do scorpions sting? It was her nature – she could no more be a lowly guard's mate than you could shear off your wings."
"She's... she's not that shallow. She just seems that way sometimes.”
Rarity sighed. “At a certain point, Rainbow darling, seeming and being become the same thing. She passed that point long, long ago.”
“You said she wore masks, though, and the real her was different. If seeming and being are the same thing, then aren’t the masks the real her as well?”
The imposter stared at her for a long moment. A spark of something – interest, perhaps, or surprise – lit her eyes. “Quite an astute observation. And perhaps the masks have become a real part of her. But, Dash, if you could see deep into her soul, like I can, you wouldn’t like what lurks there.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“It doesn’t matter what you believe, darling. When you cracked that gem open and used its spell, you passed the point of safe return. Before this night is over, you will see what lies in her breast.”
“Fine.” Dash stomped a hoof on the platform, which rang with an eerie, ghostly call that echoed in the infinite darkness around them. “I’ll see this ‘real’ her, and I’ll still love her for who she is, because I don’t care about stupid secrets.”
Silence again. The monster stretched out its long, beautiful neck along the throne’s arm, and for a moment she looked like the real Rarity, caught in a moment of contemplation. “Your loyalty is a credit to you, Dash. You are a beautiful person, and you deserve far, far better than what happened. Or what will happen.”
She couldn’t help it; she reached out to touch that soft cheek, pausing inches away. She froze there, and slowly lowered her leg to rest on the throne instead. “You can’t know that. All she needs is—” A sudden, sharp sting in her leg interrupted her, and she yanked it away from the throne with a cry. Specks of blood dotted her coat where it had rested on the gold, and there, on the throne’s arm, tattered flecks of blue hair stuck fast.
“What… Rarity, what the hell…” She stumbled back, and for the first time focused her gaze on the throne itself, rather than the pony reclining there. It was not solid gold, as she had assumed, but a crazed tangle of wire and needles and flechettes and thorns, all slender and sharp-tipped with cruel barbs. They wound around each other, through each other, a dense forest maze of beautiful, deadly metal.
"Don't act so surprised, darling," Rarity said. She lifted her head from the throne's arm, but half the skin of her face tore away, pouring out a river of blood. All through the rest of her body, Dash now saw, the gold hooks anchored in her flesh, piercing her, drinking her. The cushion beneath her body was not red velvet; it was white cotton, stained crimson. The hot metal stink was her blood.
"Masks can hide many things," the flensed, ruined face said. Rarity's body shifted, and the cruel metal did its work, peeling her coat away like a glove. "Lies, and pain as well."
It was too much. Dash stumbled away, off the platform, into the dark emptiness all around. Droplets of warm blood pattered against her face as she fell. Her wings shot out reflexively, but the dark air offered them no purchase, and the wind began to shriek as she hurtled endlessly toward the bright star at the bottom of the endless abyss.
Falling, she screamed. And then she woke up.
But not really.