She hadn’t been to many fancy restaurants in her time, but Rainbow had to admit she’d always secretly wanted to come here.
Cloudsdale was not particularly well-known for its food, its dining quarter mostly consisting of a few run-down Griffon restaurants, a pub and a small cafe, but at the other end of town, near the Cloudosseum and between the tall, modern hotels stood a modest little building that stood, unremarkably plain, in the middle of the long boulevard. It didn’t need to advertise—everypony knew Laurette’s. It was almost as well-known as the Cloudosseum itself.
Everypony, it seemed, except Twilight Sparkle.
“What’s Laurette’s?” Her face screwed up in her own special mix of curiosity and disgust (and it seemed to Rainbow that Twilight was always upset with herself for not knowing things), Twilight seemed to be honestly confused.
“You haven’t heard of Laurette’s?” Rainbow just managed to keep her jaw from dropping like a rock, her shocked tone, she felt, fully justified. “The only restaurant outside Canterlot to have received Princess Celestia’s official approval? The single most famous restaurant this side of Manehattan? The restaurant so good the hotels in Cloudsdale have built up around it?”
“Okay, okay,” Twilight replied, shaking her head disbelievingly. “I get it. It’s a good restaurant and it’s pretty well known.”
“Twilight, I’ve never met anypony besides you who hasn’t heard of it, even here in Ponyville. There are unicorns who learned the cloud-walking spell just to visit it.” Rainbow sighed. “You have no idea how much I had to do to get us a reservation there, do you?” she asked flatly. Twilight grimaced and shook her head.
“I’m sure if it’s as good as you say it is, I’ll love it.” Rainbow snorted and rolled her eyes as Twilight nuzzled up against her.
“I wasn’t worried for a second that you wouldn’t—it’s Laurette’s,” Rainbow replied. “I’d just wanted to do something really special to celebrate us being together four months, and I’m a bit disappointed that this wasn’t as impressive as I’d hoped it’d be.”
Twilight turned her head to give Rainbow a quick peck on the cheek. “You know, I’m still really impressed you’ve managed to go this long without bragging that you managed to get reservations to some place like this. I mean, you must have had that in place for a few weeks at least, right?”
Rainbow smirked and rolled her eyes. “I am capable of keeping secrets, y’know. Just because some ponies have to be chased down by Pinkie Pie to remind them not to spill the beans…” Twilight swatted at Rainbow playfully, catching her marefriend on the shoulder. Rainbow grinned at her. “Anyway, now I can brag even more.”
Twilight shook her head, chuckling. “You’re insufferable. Sometimes I wonder why I’m even going out with you.”
“Because I’m awesome,” Rainbow replied, not missing a beat, and Twilight laughed freely.
“You keep telling yourself that, Dash,” she said, flicking Rainbow with her tail cheekily as she stepped out of the balloon’s basket. Rainbow was surprised Twilight hadn’t made any comments about her being in the balloon in the first place.
She watched as Twilight bounced a little on the clouds, testing the surface and making sure she felt comfortable with the cloud-walking spell in place, her face scrunched up in concentration and her lips pulled just to one side in a way that made Rainbow want to leap out of the basket and kiss her.
Rainbow jumped lightly out of the basket, stretching her legs as she landed on the clouds and sighing in relief. Just because she hadn’t complained on the journey up hadn’t meant she wasn’t itching to get out of the small, constrictive basket.
“So,” Twilight said brightly, seemingly happy with her spell and her own safety, “where is this restaurant?”
Rainbow raised a hoof and pointed to the street behind them, directly opposite where they had landed. Twilight turned and let out a little gasp as she saw the Cloudosseum in the distance, a large, grand structure that sat at the end of the boulevard. Rainbow chuckled as she walked over to Twilight and gave her marefriend a peck on the cheek.
“We’re heading down here,” she said, smirking at the dumbstruck look on Twilight’s face as she kicked off from the cloud. “It’s a little way down the road; I hope you’re not too hungry, ‘cos it’s probably gonna be a little while till dinner.”
“It’s that far?” Twilight asked, trotting to keep up with Rainbow’s slow pace. She could hear the disappointment (and the hunger) in Twilight’s voice.
“Nah,” Rainbow replied, grinning, “it’s just one of those restaurants where you have to wait forever for the food to get to you.”
“Rainbow, not to cast aspersions or anything, but you think the waiting time at Sugarcube Corner is ‘forever’.” Twilight stuck her tongue out at Rainbow, who looked appropriately offended but was smiling anyway.
“I think aspersions have been cast,” Rainbow replied, shrugging as Twilight raised her eyebrows. “Okay, fine: no, I don’t know what that means, but I’m pretty sure it’s bad, right?”
Twilight laughed, and Rainbow soon found herself joining in, dropping down to the cloud to walk alongside her marefriend as they laughed together. Despite the slower pace, Rainbow was surprised to find them at Laurette’s sooner than she had expected, and for a moment she wondered if it had moved.
She slowed as they approached the door, turning her body inwards towards the buildings just a fraction, and was pleased when Twilight picked up on the clues. After a second, though, she realised Twilight was no longer beside her. She stopped where she was and turned around, wide-eyed and almost worried.
Twilight was staring in awe at the building before them, her expression oddly reminding Rainbow of how she had looked after their first meeting, when Rainbow had sped around the sky faster than she’d ever cleared clouds before in the hopes she could impress the hot new mare in town and maybe get herself a date for the Summer Sun Celebration and inevitable Pinkie Pie Party that would follow. It was a look that filled Rainbow with pride when it was directed at something she’d done and she finally felt as if all the time she’d put into organising tonight was starting to pay off.
After a moment of staring at Twilight, Rainbow shook her head and, snorting gently, walked over to her and kissed her, right on the lips, catching her open mouth with her own and nibbling softly on the soft tissue. Twilight let out a tiny, short moan so brief it sounded almost like a hum, before pulling away.
“What was that for?” she asked, blushing a little. She looked as if she were trying to decide whether she should be shocked or pleased, and ended up looking just a little awkward, which was cute.
“Because you’re hot,” Rainbow replied with a shrug, laughing as Twilight’s face darkened further. Winking, she turned around and lead the way into the restaurant, hoping that Twilight wouldn’t be too stunned to follow.
“Good evening, madames.”
Rainbow looked up to see a stallion dressed in a smart suit (something she rarely saw in Cloudsdale at all—it was more common to see work clothes, stained with rainbows, or even flight suits than it was to see formalwear) standing to her left, a grave, dispassionate look on his face. She smiled meekly at him, suddenly feeling out of place without clothes as a quick scan of the room showed that most ponies there were well-dressed.
“Can I help you?” he continued, looking somewhat unimpressed.
“Uhm, yeah,” Rainbow replied, a little nervous. “I’ve got a reservation under the name ‘Rainbow Dash’. Table for two, eight o’clock?”
The stallion turned to the lectern beside him, flicking absently through a large, thick book with his magic. After a moment he stopped, squinted at the page for a second, and looked back at her.
“Yes,” he said slowly, after a pause that seemed to go on for years. He sounded somewhat disapproving, and Rainbow could see his eyes sweeping over her and Twilight, judging. “You do. Follow me.”
As they wove their way through the tables of ponies, eyes turned to look at them, following them as they walked. Rainbow hoped that they weren’t going too far through the room—she wasn’t sure she could stand this much judgement. She hadn’t felt this nervous since she was dragged to that press conference after her first rainboom; it felt as if every eye on the room was judging her and that no matter what she did it would be the wrong thing.
“You know,” Twilight whispered, “I think we’re a little underdressed.”
Rainbow suppressed her laughter, biting her lip to prevent herself from bursting out into unrestrained cackles. She had never heard anything that was quite so much of an understatement, and Twilight’s wry smile was helping to diffuse the worst of her nerves and worry.
Almost as punishment, though, Rainbow could see in the waiter’s stride and posture that they were not headed for anywhere near the door. Scanning the tables ahead, Rainbow couldn’t see any free seats—the restaurant was packed, with only the odd table free, and they had already passed the only one she had spotted in this direction. Where was he taking them? He couldn’t have been planning to take them on a walk of shame through the whole restaurant, could he?
It was then that Rainbow saw them—far on the other side of the room, against the wall, were a string of private booths, each surrounded by wooden partitions to keep ponies from watching and create a sense of privacy. Laurette’s went further than most restaurants, however, adding a small sliding door to each booth that the customer may close if they wished while they ate, allowing them to seal themselves off from the public if they needed. It was no wonder the Wonderbolts were said to eat here so frequently.
The waiter gestured for the two of them to enter an booth as he slid the door open, and Rainbow was sure she’d seen an almost fond smile on his muzzle for a moment. She let Twilight sit down first before following her marefriend into the space that felt almost like their own private dining room.
The waiter closed the partition behind him and took a deep breath.
“Shall we start again?” he joked, before settling his features and clearing his throat.
“Good evening, madames. My name is Earl Gray and I shall be your waiter for this evening.” As he spoke, his horn lit up and drew two menus from somewhere beneath the table, laying them out gently before the two of them. “Would you like anything to to drink while you decide?”
“Could we get a bottle of water for the table?” Twilight asked, surprisingly confident given how nervous and uncertain Rainbow Dash was feeling. She smiled brightly at Rainbow. “You don’t want anything else for now, do you?”
“N-no,” Rainbow said, before coughing. “Just water sounds good to me right now. Dry throat,” she added, coughing again to demonstrate her point. Twilight rolled her eyes while the waiter turned and left the booth, sliding the door shut behind him on his way out.
“How are you so calm?” Rainbow asked, shocked. Twilight frowned before her mouth opened, forming a little ‘o’ of realisation.
“Rainbow, I’ve been to restaurants like this hundreds of times. Celestia used to take me for dinner once a week after she’d decided I was old enough to be treated as an adult. She used to think it was funny to make me order everything for her. I guess I’m just used to places like this.”
“I’ve never been to one before,” Rainbow admitted. She fidgeted nervously as she sat, biting her lip. “I thought it would be simple and easy, like going for a night out at Sugarcube Corner or something. Sorry.”
“Why are you apologising?” Twilight said, frowning. “This place looks amazing! And this is probably the first time I’ve actually been torn between choices from a menu in almost ten years; this all looks great.” Rainbow looked down at the menu as Twilight pointed at it with her hoof. It was mostly covered in words Rainbow had never seen before, and written in a swirling, cursive hoofwriting that made it difficult to read clearly.
“Yeah,” Rainbow muttered, her eyes running over the sheet of paper searching for something, anything she could understand. “I think it’s going to be really hard to pick something from this.”
It wasn’t too long before the waiter returned, placing a large jug of water and two empty glasses on the table, before lifting the jug and pouring each of the mares a glass. Twilight smiled, confidently and politely, in thanks as he set her glass down; Rainbow tried to do the same, but felt as if she’d simply grimaced awkwardly at him. She could hear Twilight suppressing a giggle with her hoof and she stuck her tongue out at her marefriend as soon as the waiter looked away.
“Are you ready to order?” he asked as he turned to Twilight (because it seemed he’d already picked up on which of the two was more confident in a restaurant, not that Rainbow was bitter about that). Rainbow felt her heartbeat quicken as she heard the question, knowing full well that she still didn’t have any idea what she wanted—or, in fact, what any of the dishes were.
“Could we have a few minutes, please?” Twilight asked, her expression just the right level of apologetic. “I still haven’t quite decided. You don’t mind, do you Rainbow?”
“No, not at all,” Rainbow said, her eyes turning back to the menu sos she didn’t feel quite so embarassed under Earl Gray’s gaze. “I think we could both do with a bit more time.”
The waiter nodded and turned away, leaving them again in silence. Rainbow watched as Twilight picked up her glass in her magic and took a sip of water, seemingly nerve-free. She reached for her own glass and realised her hoof was shaking. Why was she shaking? It wasn’t as if this was anything particularly scary, just a situation she was unused to. That was all, so why was she so nervous?
She took a careful sip of the cold water, swilling it around her mouth before swallowing. The cold was refreshing and helped her concentrate.
“So,” she said as casually as she could, “seen anything you like the look of?”
Twilight hummed for a second non-committally. “I think the soup of the day looks particularly inviting,” she began, “but I’m not really in the mood for mushrooms tonight. So I’m rather torn between the leek and potato stew and the fried rice. What do you think I should have?”
“Why don’t you get the rice, and I’ll have the stew?” Rainbow suggested, trying to keep her calm. If she was lucky, Twilight wouldn’t even have to know that she still had no idea what was on the menu. “That way you can have a little bit of each.”
“Are you sure?” Twilight asked, with the little frown on her face she always got when things seemed too good to be true. Rainbow cracked a wide smile at that, leaning across the table to give her a quick kiss—Twilight blushed and smiled a little, embarassed.
“Twi,” Rainbow said, leaning back on the bench, “I’m not that fussed what I have. I’m getting to spend an awesome evening with my awesome and sexy marefriend, and quite frankly so long as the food is good I don’t care what I eat.” Twilight smiled at that, blushing deeper.
It wasn’t long before Earl Gray returned to take their order. Twilight asked for the rice, starting her order with please and ending with thank you and generally behaving with more grace and charm than Rainbow had ever seen her using. It was mystifying, and beautiful.
“And what would you like?”
Oh. What was it she’d said she would have? It was a stew, wasn’t it… was it on the menu? Rainbow cast her eyes down at the offending paper, scanning across it for anything that resembled the word ‘stew’, but she couldn’t see anything like it. She cleared her throat and turned to the waiter, smiling pleasantly.
“I’ll have the stew, please,” she said as confidently as she could manage. If she was lucky, nopony would realise she hadn’t said the full name—
“Which stew, madame?” Earl asked politely and patiently. Rainbow froze, unsure what to say. She shot a worried glance at Twilight, who coughed to get the waiter’s attention.
“She’d like the leek and potato stew,” she said, before adding, “sorry; I suggested it, but didn’t notice the other stew on the menu.”
Earl nodded in understanding. Rainbow wondered how Twilight was suddenly able to lie so smoothly, and to sound so confident as she did so. It was like Twilight was a whole other pony when she was in a restaurant, and Rainbow was couldn’t help but find this new mare unreasonably attractive.
“Any drinks with your meals?” he asked. Twilight glanced at Rainbow, who shook her head slightly—she was more than happy with the water they had left on the table.
“The water is enough for us,” Twilight said. “Thanks anyway.”
“No problem, madame,” he replied, picking up their menus in his magic and tucking them away beneath the table. “One leek and potato stew, and one ‘special’ rice.” Twilight nodded, and he turned on the spot, leaving them alone again.
“Thanks,” Rainbow said after a moment. Twilight smiled warmly, her eyes filled with a look of happiness.
“It’s no problem,” she replied. “I know you’d do the same for me if you had to. Besides, it’s just a little bit funny watching you squirm, but it’s a lot more fun to let you thank me for saving your reputation later.” Rainbow felt her cheeks warm as Twilight wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, before the two mares began to giggle uncontrollably.
As their laughter subsided, Rainbow scooted around the U-shaped bench so that she was sitting next to Twilight in one, smooth motion; she watched as Twilight blinked, turning her head slowly as if she were following a ghost of Rainbow’s movement. Rainbow took the opportunity to wrap a foreleg around Twilight’s neck and kiss her.
Taking advantage of the closed door, Twilight turned herself on the bench so she was better facing Rainbow, letting the pegasus lean in closer and deepen the kiss. Rainbow felt forelegs wrap around her torso, pulling her closer as Twilight kissed her back. It wasn’t a fierce kiss, the kind that Rainbow was all too familiar with and lead to heated makeouts in the back of the library, nor was it the kind of kiss that was over too soon, burning bright and sharp but ultimately brief in nature. No, this was a kind of kiss that was wholly new to Rainbow, the kind of kiss that started as just a little flame and grew and grew until it threatened to consume her, bright and hot and everywhere at once.
It burned out, in time, dying away slowly and gently so that it didn’t even feel like it was fading until only the memory of it remained and you sat wondering where the fire had gone. Rainbow smiled as she leaned into Twilight, snuggling up in her hooves. She was warm and comfortable and had never felt quite so content.
She’d felt happy before: when she’d performed the rainboom again, when she’d spent all day just playing pranks with Pinkie, when Twilight hadn’t told her she was mad for feeling like this and said that she’d go on a date with her. But contentedness and happiness, Rainbow knew, were not the same, and while to be happy was perfectly good, nothing quite beat the warm, safe glow of contentment.
“You know,” Twilight whispered, “you should probably go and sit back over there. The food might not be very long.”
“Was that really that long?” Rainbow asked. “It seemed like it barely lasted a minute.” She reached up and caught Twilight’s lips with hers, kissing her softly to prove a point. Twilight kissed her back at first, but pulled away after a few moments.
“No,” Twilight said. “Behave. We’re in a fancy, famous restaurant.”
“In a private booth,” Rainbow said, as Twilight rolled her eyes. “With a door.”
“No,” Twilight repeated, shoving at Rainbow and pushing the mare off of her. Rainbow almost fell over onto her other side, she was so unprepared for the sudden toppling movement. She felt Twilight’s magic catch her and she scooted back around to her seat, pouting. “Oh, come on,” Twilight said, “don’t give me that look. You know I’d much rather be kissing you than sitting across a table like this, but I think we’ve already made enough of a bad impression on the staff here, don’t you?”
Rainbow huffed and crossed her forelegs, looking off to one side in mock indignation, hiding a smile. Twilight rolled her eyes again, picking up her glass of water and having another sip.
“You know, usually one makes conversation during this part of the meal,” Twilight said, a twinkle in her eye. “We could sit and talk about your work, or about my research, or about Daring Do…”
“Okay, so you know how in Griffon’s Goblet Caballeron manages to get hold of—why are you sniggering like that?” Rainbow asked, frowning. Twilight shook her head, grinning broadly.
“You are so easy to distract, you know that?” she answered, chuckling to herself. Rainbow huffed again. Twilight took a deep breath and composed herself. “But yes, Doctor Caballeron gets hold of the Amulet of Allcornia…”
“I was just thinking, you remember that time Trixie got hold of the Alicorn Amulet?” Rainbow began, noting the look of recognition on Twilight’s face mixed with a small frown of confusion. “It just seemed remarkably similar, you know? Like, they both give incredible power, both can only be removed by the wearer, similar names…”
“Yes, but two of those properties are generally true for most amulets,” Twilight argued. “The similar name is probably just a coincidence. There have been hundreds of amulets in Equestrian history, the Alicorn Amulet is hardly worth a mention compared to some of them…”
“Why’d Trixie seem so keen to get hold of it, then?” Rainbow asked, confused. “I thought it was some almighty, powerful amulet.”
“Well, I suppose it is relatively powerful,” Twilight replied. “I think the reason Trixie was drawn to that amulet was the mystery. It had been missing for hundreds of years and—”
Earl Grey pulled open the door of the booth, levitating in some dishes and cutlery.
“One stew,” he said, laying the bowl before Rainbow gently so as not to spill any of the warm sauce, “and one fried rice.” Rainbow didn’t look up from her bowl as the second plate of food landed on the table; she felt her stomach rumble and tried to resist the urge to simply grab her cutlery and start eating. “I hope you enjoy your meal.”
“Thank you,” Twilight said brightly as the waiter turned and left. Twilight grabbed the door in her magic and slid it shut behind him. “Mmm, this looks great!”
“Yeah,” Rainbow said, her eyes wide as she reached for a spoon. Their conversation forgotten, the two tucked into the food before them, Rainbow wolfing down the stew which somehow surpassed even her highest expectations of Laurette’s; she could certainly see why there was so much fuss about this place, and why it had taken her a month and a half to get hold of a reservation.
“It tastes good too,” Twilight added after a few mouthfuls, wiping her muzzle with a napkin. “Do you want to try a bit?” Rainbow nodded and Twilight levitated a forkful of rice over to her; Rainbow’s eyes went wide as the flavours filled her mouth, and she started to wonder if she’d made the wrong choice for her meal.
“Wow,” she said, reaching for her glass and taking a swig of water. Twilight lifted the jug and refilled her now-empty glass, so she smiled and nodded in thanks. “You know, I’d heard this place was good, but I honestly didn’t expect anything like this.”
“I know what you mean,” Twilight replied. “This really is excellent food. Even Celestia’s kitchens don’t always produce food as good as this, although in fairness to them they have to deal with some rather last-minute orders of dishes they’ve never even thought to prepare for. The Princess can be a little… demanding when it comes to food.”
“I’m surprised she never took you here,” Rainbow said. “I mean, it’s the only restaurant outside Canterlot she’s ever officially endorsed. She must like it.”
“Maybe she didn’t want me to be tempted to run away and leave her for a city with better food?” Twilight joked, smirking. Rainbow remembered how Twilight had practically fawned over the Princess when she first arrived in Ponyville, her almost obsessive need to make things right when the Princess did come to visit almost frighteningly, well, crazy. It was good to see Twilight now, comfortable making jokes at the expense of her mentor.
“Maybe she was frightened you’d meet a beautiful pegasus and run off to elope, never to see her again,” Rainbow suggested, and Twilight raised her eyebrows at her. “What? Are you saying you wouldn’t elope right now if I asked?”
Twilight chuckled lightly, but was avoiding Rainbow’s eye contact and Rainbow was convinced she was blushing. She decided to drop the conversation and try something new.
“So,” she began, “Scoots invited me over again.”
“Really?” Twilight asked, surprised but also quite pleased if her growing smile was anything to go by. “I’m glad. It would be good for you to see her again, and make peace with her parents.” Rainbow snorted.
“I dunno, Twi,” she said. “You haven’t met the two of them. I swear, walking around with their matching cutie marks and their stupid mansion… you know, I got the invite by post? It was all formal and everything, with a big, fancy, swirly bit at the top. It was kinda like the menu here.”
“Still,” Twilight said, “I know you don’t like them, and I know they’re not all that nice, but you ought to give them a chance, right? For Scootaloo’s sake, if nothing else.”
Rainbow deflated in her seat, sinking in resignation. “I guess you’re right,” she said. “Although quite frankly I really wish you weren’t.”
“I wish I wasn’t too,” Twilight said. “I’ve heard bad things about those two. Dainty and Ceasar, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Rainbow replied. “Something like that. Why?”
Twilight took a moment to compose herself, taking another bit of rice and swallowing before raising her glass to her lips.
“Because,” she said, taking a sip, “I have been told that they’re not particularly tolerant of… certain kinds of ponies. You’d do best to keep quiet around them and not say anything that might antagonise them, too, because I’m afraid to say they’ve got quite a lot of power between the two of them.”
“Yeah, sure,” Rainbow said dismissively, poking at her stew. “Don’t say anything antagonising, be nice, be quiet. Got it.”
“I mean it, Rainbow,” Twilight said, gently. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, and I know you. You’re the kind of pony who says things without really thinking about them, and around Ceasar and Dainty Dove, that could be exceptionally dangerous.”
Rainbow was quiet for a moment. She wasn’t entirely sure what to say to that; she’d already said she would do her best, after all.
“I think you should tell Scootaloo,” Twilight said. “As soon as you ca—”
“No.” Rainbow rested her hoof on the table, leaning forwards. “I’m not going to do that to her. She needs to hear it from them, or from a doctor. I-I can’t be the one to tell her that.”
Twilight sighed, and Rainbow could tell she wanted to press the issue further. Yet, despite herself, Twilight seemed to give up, leaning backwards and putting her cutlery down on her plate; she’d barely eaten half her food.
The silence that hung over the table was almost painful, and Rainbow couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she’d done something wrong and somehow offended Twilight. She couldn’t quite bring herself to finish her food with the atmosphere like this, either, so she put her spoon down in her bowl and scooted around to sit by Twilight’s side again.
“Hey,” she said, nudging Twilight’s shoulder gently with her nose. “I’m sorry if I upset you. I didn’t want to do that tonight—well, I don’t ever want to do that, but tonight was meant to be special.”
“It is special,” Twilight said, smiling a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You know I just want you to be happy, that I wouldn’t be suggesting this if I didn’t really think it was going to make you happier in the end?”
“I think so,” Rainbow said, uncertainly. “I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s why you’re telling me to do that. I’m just not sure I understand why it would make me happier.”
“Because a relationship built on lies can’t last,” Twilight said. “And being Scootaloo’s sister make you happy, Rainbow. Hay, I’ve never seen you happier than when you spent that evening with Scootaloo last week, just taking her for a glide around the park on your back; you weren’t even that happy when you managed to do the sonic rainboom, or when the Wonderbolts accepted you into the academy.
“I don’t want you to lose that. I’m not sure how well you’d cope.”
Rainbow snuggled into Twilight’s side, nuzzling her head against her marefriend’s warm fur. She smiled, planting soft kisses against Twilight’s coat, giggling as Twilight squirmed uncomfortably at the ticklish sensation.
She thought about it, forcing herself to really think through what it would be like if she actually spoke with Scootaloo about all this rather than what she had done before, when the very idea of even thinking about it made her feel sick. She tried to focus on Twilight as she did so, focus on the comfort and safety of her marefriend’s embrace, and force herself to really, truly consider the possibility that she might have to tell Scootaloo she would never fly.
She knew the news would make the little filly distraught, knew it would destroy so many of her hopes and dreams and potentially even send her into some kind of depression; the kid was bullied enough for not yet being able to fly, but had allowed this to fuel her determination to keep trying over the years. If she were to lose that hope that maybe one day, if she tried hard enough, she would fly, Rainbow wasn’t entirely sure how Scootaloo would deal with the inevitable bullying.
But Rainbow did know that she would be there beside Scootaloo the whole way, that she would be willing to be there for Scootaloo whenever she needed somepony to be strong for her, whenever she needed somepony to make her feel like she was worth something. Rainbow had made a promise to Scootaloo a long time before, and she intended to keep it—she was her big sister now, and that meant being there for her when times were tough as much as it meant being somepony to spend time with and have fun with on the good days.
She also knew that, no matter what, Scootaloo wouldn’t ever give up; if she found out she wasn’t able to fly, it wouldn’t surprise Rainbow to see Scootaloo pushing her scooting skills to the limit, or working wonders with gliding and pushing the boundaries of what she could do in the air without having to fly. And she knew that Scootaloo was the kind of filly who wouldn’t ever be happy with not being the very best (it was a part of herself she could see in the filly, something that made her want to protect her and keep her safe not only from the world but from herself) and would be more than capable of pushing herself to be the best in a field that wasn’t flying, in a field that was better suited to a pegasus stuck on the ground.
Still, Rainbow knew that such a life would only ever be second-best to Scootaloo, a make-do solution that would only last for as long as the little filly was capable of keeping herself distracted. That wasn’t the life for any filly, was it?
“I…” she began, before closing her mouth and sighing. She wasn’t sure, but just at that moment Rainbow realised she would never be sure, that she would never know until she actually made a decision whether she was right or wrong. And in that moment she knew that if she didn’t decide soon she never would, that she would be putting it off forever and a day and that was almost as unacceptable—no, it was worse than if she were to someday tell Scootaloo the truth.
“You’re right,” she said, quietly, before chuckling to herself darkly. “Of course, you’re right, you always are.”
Twilight smiled, leaning down to kiss Rainbow lightly on her forehead. Rainbow leaned up, instead, catching Twilight’s lip with her own. “You’re always right. I’m going to tell her. I’ll give it a week, try to make peace with Ceasar and Dainty, and then I’ll tell her.”
She didn’t even realise she was crying until she felt Twilight’s hoof on her cheek, wiping at an unfelt tear-mark, rubbing warm dampness across her fur.
“Thank you,” Twilight whispered, quietly. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re making the right choice.”
“Twilight,” Rainbow said, cracking a shaky smile, “that’s worth it all.”