//------------------------------// // 1. Confession // Story: Our Lady's Courtship // by Rough_Draft //------------------------------// On her way out, Rarity paused to glance at herself in the hallway mirror. Despite what some of the other mares might whisper, she didn’t think of herself as particularly vain. After all, what was wrong with wanting to look one’s best? Still, when she looked at the large summer hat she was wearing, she had to consider that point. Any chic mare understood that accessories were important, but why this particular hat? It wasn’t terribly fancy—an understated beige hat with a large ostrich feather on the side. And she was only going to lunch at Le Abreuvoir, one of Ponyville’s most exclusive restaurants. Though Garçon and the staff did have standards to uphold, they weren’t the sort to throw out a patron simply because they came unclothed. They’d hardly get any business in this town if they did. And yet— Rarity frowned and adjusted her hat once more. “Don’t be silly, Rarity. It’s only lunch with Twilight. Nothing you haven’t done a million times before.” If she told herself that, perhaps she could believe it, too. Rarity continued to scrutinize her own reflection. She practiced her smile and how she tilted her head back when she laughed and what sort of frown would look the most sympathetic. To anypony watching, it would seem as if she’d lost her mind. She prayed desperately that it wasn’t the case. Her lunches with Twilight had lately become more meaningful. After her friend’s disastrous breakup with that handsome guard pony Flash Sentry, she’d become thoroughly depressed. For days, nopony would see her emerge from the depths of her library and even Spike grew concerned about her mental health. It had taken one of Pinkie Pie’s extravagant parties to even rouse a true smile out of her. And for Rarity, that little smile—coated with cupcake frosting—was worth more to her than all the gems buried in Equestria’s soil. She had tried ever since to keep that smile on her friend’s face with frequent lunches at Le Abreuvoir and pleasant strolls through White Tail Woods. It was on one such walk that a lightning bolt of inspiration struck Rarity in the back of her head. If she were truly Twilight Sparkle’s friend, then she would be her matchmmaker and find her a suitable replacement for that heartbreaker Flash. After several disastrous dates with a series of eligible stallions, Rarity had finally accepted that perhaps she was better suited at stitching up dresses than fixing Twilight’s shattered love life. And now, she was on her way to their most recent luncheon, where Twilight would once again protest that she wasn’t meant for this dating business after all. “No,” Rarity said, watching her reflection and deepening her frown. “I’ve got one pony left for you, Twilight. I promise you won’t be disappointed.” With a resolute nod, she turned and walked out the door of her boutique. A simple twist of her magic locked the door behind her and hung up the “Closed for Lunch” sign in her window. It was with some regret that Rarity put up her sign. At the moment, she didn’t have too much business coming in, either locally or from distant cities like Canterlot and Manehattan. Her sketches for the Princesse Poney series were coming along nicely, but until she sat down and got to work on an actual dress, she had nothing to show for all her ambitions. Well, Rarity thought as she trotted down the lane and into town, at least Sweetie Belle doesn’t require too much for such a young filly. Then again, she and her friends do seem to rack up a lot of expenses with all their little stunts… She continued her walk, grateful to have chosen the hat given the unseasonably warm day. Rarity didn’t spot any pegasi from the weather teams moving clouds into positions. It was the middle of autumn, but it felt like summer. The blazing heat turned her every hoofstep into a scorching experience. When next she saw Rainbow Dash, she had half a mind to chide her for being so lazy. Element of Loyalty or not, in Rarity’s opinion, that pegasus needed a better work ethic when it came to things that didn’t involve the Wonderbolts. Improvising, Rarity turned her hoofsteps into a series of skips, closing the distance to the stately restaurant. Once she was indoors, she paused and caught her breath. She removed her hat for a moment and savored the cool air being piped in through Le Abreuvoir. “Ahh, Miss Rarity,” said a posh voice to her left. Garçon came forward, wearing a fine red dinner jacket and a white napkin over his shoulder. He offered her a courteous bow of his head. “Welcome. I have your table reserved near the center.” “Oh, thank you.” Rarity donned her hat once more and moved to follow him. Twilight Sparkle was already waiting at their table, looking quite glum. She chewed on a slice of bread from a tiny plate, completely oblivious to the world around her. Although this wasn’t an official function, Rarity had suggested that her friend wear the small crown she’d been granted as a princess. It wasn’t essential to the restaurant’s dress code, but Rarity believed that it would do wonders for their publicity to have a visible member of royalty dining there. And in any case, Rarity had to admit that she loved seeing Twilight in a crown. Only she could take something so regal and find a way to still look cute. “Ahem,” said Rarity, clearing her throat. When Twilight glanced up, she added, “I’m so sorry, dearest. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long.” “No, not long at all.” The flat tone in Twilight’s voice was grating to Rarity’s ears. But just like she’d practiced, she kept a polite smile glued to her face and took her seat. Meanwhile, Garçon slid a fresh napkin and plate onto Rarity’s side of the table. “Can I interest you ladies in some appetizers?” Twilight shook her head, continuing to chew on her slice of bread. Rarity sighed and shook her head. “I think not, Garçon. But I will take a bottle of your best strawberry wine and two glasses.” “Very good, ma’am.” The head waiter gave a crisp bow and backed away like a good servant. Coughing, Twilight forced herself to swallow the bread she’d been chewing. She glared at Rarity with surprising force. At last, some genuine feeling. “Rarity! Do you have any idea how expensive that wine is?” “Fifty-seven bits a bottle,” Rarity answered, doing the math in her head, “and twenty-two bits for a single glass. Yes, my dear Twilight, I do know how much it costs. The finest things in life always come with a steep price.” Like being a good friend, Rarity added silently. Like being your friend, Twilight Sparkle… Moments later, Garçon returned with a silver tray balanced on his back, bearing a nicely chilled bottle and two round wineglasses. Rarity admired the earth pony’s skill as he poured the wine and then retreated once more with an empty tray. Every waiter in this fine establishment moved with the grace and speed of a born ice skater during the middle of winter. Stallions and mares in red jackets slipped in and out of view, surreptitious in their delivery of hors d’ouevres and entrées, still piping hot from the kitchens. So what if the cuisine wasn’t always up to the standards of a genuine Canterlot restaurant? At least the service and the décor were impeccable. Rarity lifted her glass by the edge of her hoof. “A toast, then. To new endeavors!” “Uhh, sure.” Twilight wore a dubious frown, but she clinked her glass against Rarity’s anyway. Then she took a sip, and for only a fraction of a second, Rarity caught a glimpse of widening eyes and lips curving up into a delighted smile. After though Twilight’s face collapsed back into a glum stare at the tabletop, Rarity felt victorious. That tiny smile was all she needed. If she could only keep her feeling positive a little longer— Twilight cut off the rest of her thoughts with a heavy sigh. Her head sank down to the table, peering at her friend from beneath the edge of her wineglass. “Rarity, can I ask you something?” “Of course, darling.” “I appreciate all the time and energy you’ve put into being…” Twilight’s eyes drifted left and right, searching for the right word. “Well, a matchmaker. I mean, nopony else would think to do that for me—” Rarity clapped her hooves together. “Think nothing of it!” “But I’ve got to ask…” Twilight frowned. “What are you getting out of this?” Rarity froze. She went so still that she could hear her own heart thumping against her ribcage. Or at least she thought she could. Did Twilight know? Had she finally seen straight through to the heart of the matter? Perhaps it wasn’t so surprising. Since coming to Ponyville, Twilight had gotten much better at reading social cues. And maybe she’d picked up something from Rarity herself. Flattering, yes, but still. With another practiced smile, Rarity leaned back in her seat. “My dear Twilight, all I want is for you to be happy.” When she considered those words, she allowed herself a slight frown and added, “And, of course, to find somepony with whom you can relate. Somepony who can take your mind off that awful business with Flash.” “You mean, the balloon crash with Flash in the past?” Twilight replied with a teasing grin. Rarity’s frown deepened. “You’ve been spending too much with Pinkie Pie. Bad jokes and ice cream sundaes are not a healthy way to cope.” “And yet you keep insisting on taking me out to lunch every week,” Twilight countered. Once more, Rarity could see that old fire coming back into her friend’s eyes. The princess lifted her head, looking more and more regal by the second. “So I ask again: what are you getting out of all this? Because I doubt you enjoy watching me suffer.” Working her mouth, Rarity tried to protest, but to no avail. She couldn’t bring herself to say, Of course I don’t or Why, that’s ridiculous! She knew a thousand little pleasantries, but none of them would do her any good. At last, the moment of truth. “No, darling,” she whispered. Rarity sank down, pushing her own wineglass aside. Not even its sweet aroma could distract her now. “I suppose I bring you here because I’m suffering, too.” Silence fell over the table, while the rest of Le Abreuvoir’s staff and customers continued to fill the air with a dozen idle conversations, cheerful laughter, and clinking silverware. Rarity glanced up, taking note of the thoughtful expression on Twilight’s face. There was no anger or sorrow etched there like before. And that meant a lot to Rarity. She could see now what somepony like Twilight Sparkle responded to the most. Give her an intellectual exercise to keep her occupied, but to reveal her true passion, she had to come across a friend in need. Somepony who needed to be rescued or educated or encouraged, no matter how big their ordeal was. Just one more thing that Rarity loved about her—in every sense of the term. “Oh, Rarity…” Twilight’s concern was evident. She floated her own glass to the other side of the table and reached out with a hoof. “If there’s anything I can do to help—” “There is.” Rarity chewed on her bottom lip, summoning one last ounce of courage. Sweet Celestia, how she’d dreamed of this moment! And it had looked nothing like this in the privacy of her own thoughts. “Please, listen to what I have to say.” “Of course.” Rarity removed her hat, setting it down on the floor beside the table with the utmost care. When she looked up at Twilight, she felt tears forming in her eyes. Be brave, she told herself. Be brave like her. “I’ve been playing this silly little game because I’ve been scared,” she said aloud. It took every ounce of willpower to keep her voice low enough for only Twilight to hear and not succumb to her usual hysterics. “I was scared of being honest with you, darling. Of telling you the truth of how I feel about you…” She blinked away sudden tears. “Of how I’ve always felt about you.” “Rarity…” Twilight stared back. Her bottom lip was trembling. “I’m… I didn’t…” She shook her head—not in denial, but in confusion. “I don’t…” Ah, there it was. Rarity closed her eyes, feeling the icy needle pierce her heart. She’d known it was coming all along. Those seven simple words that meant absolute rejection. I don’t feel that way about you. Of course she’d been foolish to even try. She’d played this deceptive game for too many rounds. Now she’d lost it all. Rarity ducked her head, using her hat as a shield. “Rarity, I—” “Please, don’t,” Rarity said through a sob. She dabbed at her eyes with the napkin. “E-excuse me, I’ll be going now.” “Wait!” But it was too late. Rarity turned tail and fled through the restaurant. She felt every pair of eyes swivel in her direction. So what if she was making a scene? What did it matter anymore? How could she matter anymore? You played the game and you lost, Rarity, a cold voice whispered in the depths of her mind. It felt icy, even as she galloped across town and back to the sanctuary of her boutique. Now the whole town will know you’re a failure. That blasted voice was right, of course. There was no way Rarity could ever show her face again. Not in Ponyville, anyway. Or Canterlot, for that matter. Manehattan, she supposed, would be a lovely place to move. She hoped the social season there would be just as magnificent, once she got her new identity in place and found a good school for Sweetie Belle to attend… On the edge of her hearing, a small voice said, “Princess Twilight? Is everything all right…?” Twilight Sparkle couldn’t bring herself to answer. She was sitting perfectly still, staring at the blank space where Rarity had been only moment ago. When she’d first entered the restaurant, she felt listless, as if she’d been dragging a heavy gray fog everywhere she went. A fog made of bitter memories and a broken heart that never fully mended. A fog that made her long for the simple days before Ponyville and the magic of friendship, when all she’d needed was her private study in Canterlot and Spike’s loyal companionship. Now the restaurant had come alive, making her acutely aware of every dropped fork and every crunch from nearby tables. Twilight could see every detail that she’d ignored on her way inside, from the mirror-polished candle holders on each table to the fine gray hairs in Garçon’s mane. She was awake now—and all because somepony else was clearly suffering more than her. “Ma’am?” The head waiter waved his hoof in Twilight’s peripheral vision. “Can I get you anything—?” “Oh!” Twilight swiveled in her seat, giving him an embarrassed grin. “No, I-I’m fine, thank you.” After pausing to glance at the half-finished bottle of wine on the table, she added, “Actually, would it be too much trouble to get my meal to go?” Garçon’s left eye twitched, but his voice remained tranquil and polite. “It’s not normally our policy, but I’m sure we can accommodate you, Your Highness.” “Thank you so much.” Twilight continued to smile as the waiter left. In her head, she did a quick calculation of how generous a tip she’d have to leave—and then all she could hear was Rarity’s voice, so proud and happy only a moment ago. The finest things in life always come with a steep price… This lunch hadn’t gotten the way she’d hoped it would. Twilight had spent the whole morning practicing a speech about how she was done with dating eligible stallions. At this point, a lifetime of celibacy seemed preferable than putting her heart on the line every time. And besides, neither Celestia nor Luna seemed to be doing poorly for lack of romance in their lives. Celestia herself had told Twilight about the burden she carried as a co-ruler of Equestria, forgoing so many personal pleasures for the good of the realm. And yet— All she could see now was the glimmer of tears in Rarity’s eyes as she ran away. All she could hear now was Rarity’s sobbing voice, her desperate apology for presuming that Twilight was a fillyfooler like her. And the more she thought about it, the more awful Twilight felt about her reaction. Though she was stronger than a timid pony like Fluttershy, Rarity was still quite delicate when it came to her emotions—or to romance. She deserved a better response from Twilight. Moments later, Garçon returned with a carton full of Twilight’s favorite dish, foin au poivre with a light sauce. The smell from the carton filled Twilight with a sudden wave of nostalgia. In her mind’s eye, she could see Rarity sitting across from her at the table, laughing and sharing stories, so generous with all her relationship advice. Had it all been a mask? An attempt to deflect suspicion about her true feelings? Twilight didn’t know whether to feel indignant or flattered. Or both. She thanked Garçon and left a generous sum of bits on the table when he offered the bill. Twilight grabbed the carton’s handle in her teeth and trotted out of the restaurant. She didn’t care about the eyes of curious ponies tracking her as she left—just as long as they didn’t include those nosy photographers from the Foal Free Press or that rambunctious Princess Twilight Fan Club. Trying to think clearly about this matter required more than one mind. Fortunately, she had a good idea of where to look for somepony she could always rely on for a friendly chat… “No,” said Spike. He crossed his arms and turned his back on Twilight, who stood quietly in the middle of the library. “Not a chance.” Okay, thought Twilight, maybe this wasn’t the best idea… “Listen, Spike.” Twilight took a cautious step forward, hoping to give Spike some room while he sorted out his feelings. He was a young dragon, after all, and still maturing emotionally. “I get that you’re upset, but—” “Upset?” Spike’s voice dropped to a growl, one so low that it sent an eerie chill down Twilight’s back and across her wings. The little dragon turned around, clenching his claws into tiny fists at his sides. “I’m furious! Do you have any idea how long I’ve been in love with Rarity? Do you even care how I feel about this?” He waved a claw at Twilight, cutting off her next protest. “No, of course you don’t! ‘Hey, it’s only Spike! He’s just a kid!’” Twilight’s mouth fell open, but nothing came out. She realized too late that none of her words could make a difference here. No, she decided, it wasn’t fair at all to Spike. It wasn’t fair that Rarity ignored his feelings for her, nor was it fair that Twilight had often treated his infatuation with Rarity as a running gag. Spike had slaved away to win Rarity’s affection—only to watch it fall right into Twilight’s lap instead. It was the cruelest joke that fate could play on him, with far less mercy than any of Rainbow Dash’s pranks. Looking at the baby dragon whom she’d raised herself, Twilight knew that this kind of pain wasn’t going to go away overnight. Or even by the end of the next day. He was hurting just like Rarity—perhaps worse than she was. All of Twilight’s doubts and self-loathing from the breakup with Flash suddenly seemed trivial by comparison. “I really do care about you,” Twilight managed to say. She waited for Spike to take a deep breath and let it out slowly while he listened. “I’m sorry I sprung this news on you. Maybe it’d be best if I spent the night somewhere else. Give you some space to vent.” “Thanks,” Spike replied, all but spitting the word back at her. He turned and marched upstairs to the bedroom, never once glancing back at her. Twilight closed her eyes, fighting back the urge to shout out her frustration. This talk hadn’t gone nearly as well as she’d hoped. If anything, she felt more confused about what to say. There had to be somepony she could talk to about Rarity. With a heavy sigh, she turned around and walked out her front door. Fluttershy’s cottage was a sanctuary in more ways than one. Most ponies knew it as an animal sanctuary, where critters of every shape and size flocked for food and comfort. But for close friends like Twilight, the house’s simple brown walls and elegant furniture made for a pleasant refuge from the outside world. The air always smelled like jasmine—though she suspected the fragrance was there to mask the odors of living with so many breeds of wildlife under one roof. It was a home designed for total comfort and security, or at least for the comfort and security of one agoraphobic pegasus. “Poor thing!” Fluttershy exclaimed. She poured Twilight a second cup of tea from the other end of the sofa. “I had no idea she felt that way about you.” “I would’ve thought Rarity shared everything with you.” Twilight shrugged. “I mean, you girls seem to be as close as sisters.” Fluttershy glanced down at the steaming cup in her hooves. “I-I guess not.” Wincing, Twilight tried to pass off her discomfort on the boiling hot tea she was drinking. But like before, it was impossible for her to ignore a friend’s quiet suffering. This day wasn’t going very well at all. First, Rarity, then Spike, and now Fluttershy—all caught in the same web of disappointment. And Twilight sitting in the center like a befuddled spider. She set down her cup on the coffee table and looked Fluttershy over. “I’m guessing you know a lot about how animals court one another in the wild. Do you think there’s anything from that kind of behavior that might give me a clue?” “Hmm.” Fluttershy mulled over the question for a moment, tapping one hoof against the sofa. “Well… I do know some birds and insects will bring trinkets to court a potential mate.” “Trinkets?” “You know, a piece of string or a nice flower.” With a blush, Fluttershy added, “Or a nice juicy piece of meat…” Twilight shuddered. It wasn’t Fluttershy’s tone that upset her, but the mental image of two predators salivating over raw meat. How anypony could even stomach that was beyond her. She thanked Celestia that Spike, at least, was more civilized in that regard than the rest of his species. But the idea of trinkets did ring a bell. Twilight sat back on the sofa, running through all her recent memories of Rarity. “I guess she did take me out to lunch every week. And she even walked with me through White Tail Woods. But I thought she was just being kind.” “Lots of animals will try to demonstrate their value,” Fluttershy offered with a smile. “They’re trying to distinguish themselves from the rest of the pack and win their mate’s attention.” “So Rarity was trying to win me over? With paying for meals and long walks in the evening?” Again, Fluttershy blushed. “It sure looks that way.” Twilight was about to say otherwise, but the more she thought about it, the more that line of thought made sense. To an innocent bystander, those scenes of the two mares spending time together could be taken as either harmless acts of friendship… or as a series of dates. And what if Rarity had been setting Twilight up with deliberately poor choices for a coltfriend just so she could offer herself as the real prize at the very end? Had it been an act all along? No, Twilight thought. She was being sincere in helping me find a special somepony. It tore her heart out trying to confess her feelings to me… “Ugh,” she said out loud, slumping into her couch cushion. “I’m such a terrible friend.” “Don’t say that,” Fluttershy chided. With a gentle hoof, she stroked at the side of Twilight’s mane. “You’re a wonderful friend, Twilight. I know it and so does Rarity.” “You really think so?” “I do!” Fluttershy beamed like a filly who’d just gotten an “A” on her test. Twilight smiled. It felt like the first time she’d smiled all day. That gray fog wrapped around her brain was disintegrating faster now. She sat back and absorbed the present moment, from the fine jasmine scent in the air to the steam floating up from her teacup to Fluttershy’s smiling face. She didn’t know how she’d been so lucky to have a friend like her, but she was grateful all the same. And really, who else could she have gone to see about this? Pinkie Pie would’ve insisted on throwing Rarity a coming-out party, while Applejack and Rainbow Dash were going to be busy with each other on an evening like this. But Twilight decided that she’d go talk to Applejack in the morning. After all, she and Rainbow Dash had been a happy couple for a while now. If anypony knew how to handle an unexpected romance, it’d be the most reliable pony in town. In the meantime, she’d treat herself to a nice quiet evening with Fluttershy. “Well, in that case, would you mind if I used your bath?” Twilight asked. “I feel like I need a good long soak after what happened today.” “Of course!” Fluttershy hopped off the couch, spreading her wings as she did. She glided over the coffee table, collecting the tea tray with her hooves and heading back toward the kitchen. “I’ll get started on dinner, okay?” “Sounds great. And Fluttershy?” “Yes?” Twilight flew into the air, letting her own wings carry her right to Fluttershy’s side. She threw her forelegs around the pegasus, hugging her gently and trying not to knock the tray out of her hooves. Fluttershy smiled and leaned back into the hug. “I may be a good friend,” said Twilight, “but you’re an even better one.” “That’s sweet of you to say, but—” “No buts. I mean it, Shy.” Fluttershy smiled. With a gentle murmur, she nuzzled Twilight’s cheek. “Thank you, Twilight. It’s nice to see you smiling again.” “I suppose it is,” Twilight admitted. Inside, she was kicking herself. Of course she had the right to feel depressed about her breakup, but there was such a thing as overdoing it. How many friends—like Rarity—had she been neglecting over the last few months? Never again, she promised and let go of Fluttershy. With an aerial pirouette, Twilight headed for the upstairs bathroom with renewed determination.