//------------------------------//
// Checkmate 
// Story: Mate in Five Moves 
// by Karrakaz 
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	By the time Rarity stepped back into her boutique, she had come to exactly one important realisation: This was exactly what she had hoped for when she agreed to go out with Pinkie. She had wanted her friend to find somepony that would be good for her, and now it seemed that she had.

Rarity clung to the thought like a life-raft, letting it drown out all other thoughts, and even the pain that seeped from the open wound in her heart. On the way back she had managed to delude herself that it would be a one-time deal, simply because Pinkie liked parties as much as she did. But then she would remember the smile Pinkie had been wearing when she looked at the stallion; a smile that, before, Rarity had only seen when Pinkie had looked at her.

With an aggressive shake of her head Rarity cleared her mind of all thoughts but one: I have an order due in eight hours, and I had best get back to it. She went about it in a frenzy, working on three different stitches, folds, and cuts at the same time. It was an intense task, one that required her complete focus. It was just what she was looking for.

By the time Upper Crust arrived to pick up her dresses eight hours later, Rarity had just about finished. “Just a moment, darling,” she told the mare with a dazzling smile. “I wasn’t quite happy with one of the stitches, it will be done in just a moment. Tea?”

The dresses were some of her best work, and Upper Crust was happy with them, even if she did decline Rarity’s offer of tea. After she had left, Rarity made some for herself and sat down on her chaise lounge. Now that her order was finished, she had nothing to focus on, and the thoughts quickly filled her mind again.

What if it isn’t a one-time thing? What if she’s genuinely fallen in love with him? She scoffed. “Don’t be absurd, Rarity. She hardly even knows him. They met maybe an hour prior to deciding to go to a party?” She gulped down most of her tea in one go. “That isn’t love.” 

But what if it is?

“Well, seeing as I was the one that encouraged her to find somepony that could love her back, I will simply be happy for her,” she told the empty room, with the eniquins as her only witnesses.

Liar.

Merely sitting still drinking tea wasn’t an option for long. She needed to know that Pinkie was alright. Of course, part of her knew that she could simply ask her friend about it during their next chess session, but she felt that it was her duty to make sure that her friend had had a good time. It’s about time for breakfast, anyway.

Her unasked question was answered before she even came near Sugarcube Corner. Pinkie’s singing drifted out of the open doors and onto the street, a sure sign that she was happy, and a blow to Rarity’s gut. The last time she had heard Pinkie sing had been many months ago, which made her realise that her estimates on Pinkie’s crush had been woefully off the mark. 

Swallowing her insecurities and letting the delicious smell of baked good drive her onward, she stepped into the bakery. There was a lengthy line to the counter despite the earliness of the hour, fortunately, Pinkie appeared to be everywhere at once and it took less than a minute between order and delivery of said order which made it more of an inconvenience than a problem.

When it was finally her turn, Rarity stepped up to the counter and said: “Hello, Darling. I’ll have three croissants please.” She hardly even saw Pinkie’s face, all smiles and zipping hooves. “How was your party last night?” she added after a fashion, hoping to be able to get an answer before the ponies that had gotten in line behind her made a fuss. 

“That’ll be five bits.” Pinkie zipped back into place, still wobbling a bit from the speeds at which she had moved, and handed Rarity a paper bag. “It was great,” she continued while Rarity opened her purse and traded the bits for the bag. “I’ll tell you all about it at our next game.”

Rarity opened her mouth to reply but thought better of it. Pinkie was busy and had already assured her that they would talk about it. That would have to be enough for now.

During her walk home, she steeled her resolve, vowing not to let this problem interfere with her day to day life. Her heart complained, but she silenced it and threw away the key. It wasn't the first time her love life had thrown her a curveball, and it wouldn't be the last. She just needed some time to gather herself. Time, and a few family-sized tubs of icecream.





The week that followed was relatively normal. Rarity worked on the orders she had gotten, fussed about her sister whenever she found another one of the crusader's ill-fated plans in the boutique, and generally held her life together well enough. The only noticeable change was the fact that she no longer felt inspired to come up with new designs whenever she had a moment of peace. It felt like her creativity had abandoned her when she locked up her heart, but she didn't dare release it for fear of falling apart at the seams.

She very nearly did when the next thursday rolled around and Pinkie was nowhere to be found. Fashionably late was a concept Pinkie had never understood. The earth pony had always been on time, or even early to whatever appointment with Rarity she had, and her absence made Rarity fear the worst.

Her fears were confirmed when Mrs. Cake, laden with the twins and a pair of saddlebags fit to bursting with picnic supplies, dropped by to deliver a note hastily written by Pinkie. 



Hey, Rarity. Sorry I’m not there to tell you that I couldn’t come myself. Stampy invited me to a restaurant he really likes. He even had roses and everything! Anyway, I couldn’t just tell him ‘no’, it would have made him so sad!

 

“I’ll make it up to you later. Pinkie Promise,” she read aloud to the sympathetic face of the older mare.

“No need to fret, deary,” Mrs. Cake told her. “Young love often makes ponies do crazy things. Why I remember when Carrot—”

Rarity only half listened to the story that followed. Her world was falling apart, and her body seemed determined to go with it. Her head pounded, her stomach ached and her hooves felt like they were on fire. Worst of all, however, was her heart. It had burst through the seams of its prison and was screaming bloody murder. You could have had everything you ever wanted in Pinkie Pie, and now you have nothing.

Every fibre of her being ached with a desire to destroy the stallion that had taken away what could have been hers. She had already absently thanked Mrs. Cake for her time and walked half of the way to Sugarcube Corner before her senses returned.

You have no one to blame but yourself, her mind told the rest of her. You insisted that the wonderful times you had with her should not be classified as dates. You told her that it was important that she look for somepony else, because beauty queen Rarity could never fall in love with the likes of her.

“I never said that I couldn't,” Rarity muttered, sinking down onto her haunches in the middle of the street. But you implied it. Hot tears stung behind her eyelids, and she closed them to keep the tears from spilling out. Frantically, she raced through every memory, every laugh, every word that had passed between her and Pinkie, looking for anything that she could use to take back everything she had said. Anything to make everything go back to the way it had been all those weeks ago when Pinkie had told her she loved her.

She came up empty. Letting out a deeply suffering sigh, she got up and looked at the gigantic cupcake that topped Sugarcube Corner. Her vision became blurry, but she refused to be seen crying in the middle of the street. There was nothing she could do anyway; Pinkie wasn’t at Sugarcube corner, and neither was the stallion. She could only do what she had told herself she would:

She would grin, and bear it, and help Pinkie in whatever way she could. That’s what good friends did. Rarity would just have to rid herself of that thing called love. It should be easy enough; she had only just found out it existed after all.

I always hated the way she bowled me over while I was working, anyway. And the way she always yelled, so uncouth. Never could stand still when I was designing a dress for her. Made me go on those awful rides.

For every negative thought she threw at her love, however, it threw back positive ones, small details that made Pinkie... Pinkie. And before she had made it out of the street, she realised why it wasn’t working. Love meant caring for somepony despite their little annoyances. She was stuck with it.

By the time she returned to her boutique, Mrs. Cake had long since gone, and her sister wasn’t anywhere to be found either. Just as well, she thought to herself. A lady doesn’t cry in front of others.





When Rarity set out the chessboard again a week later, she didn’t have high hopes of Pinkie arriving on time, or at all. She had thrown herself into her work and taken on more projects than she should have, which had helped her emotional state to an extent, if not much else. Having reduced her everyday life to working until exhaustion and then lying down in bed until sufficient time had passed that she could call it sleeping was a way to live; it just wasn’t a very happy way. It was only by sheer coincidence that she even remembered that Pinkie could be coming by today. On some level, Rarity hoped that she wouldn't.

Part of that thought came from the little vanity she had left. She looked hideous, and she knew it. Her eyes were constantly bloodshot and had heavy bags under them; she hadn’t combed her mane in days and it was starting to get tangled up, and last, but certainly worst, she knew she had put on some weight. There was a veritable mountain of ice cream canisters behind her boutique, and there would have been more had the mare she bought the ice cream from not banned her from the parlour for her own safety.

Once the pieces were in place, she decided that she should at the very least make some tea. The day had been a long one, and looked like it was going to be longer still. The water went forgotten the moment she put it on the stove, having lost the competition for her attention against a myriad of other matters that required it. If I can get all seven of Fancy Pants' suits done before tonight, I could tackle the rest of Fleur's dresses tomorrow. She very nearly smiled to herself, pleased with her plan. The suits alone would have her working until deep unto the night, but that's what she was planning on. Another sleepless night with nothing to do but think didn't help her in any way, so she avoided it as much as possible.

The little bell above her shop's door rang the moment she stepped out of the kitchen, and even though she hardly paid any attention to the sounds, she had heard it often enough that she almost subconsciously rattled off her usual greeting. "Welcome to the Carousel Boutique where everything..." Both her sentence and her train of thought crashed and burned when she saw Pinkie standing in the doorway.

The earth pony looked alarmed, her ears swiveling every which way and her eyes mirroring the movements. The reason for her anxiety wasn't hard to place. Rarity had stopped trying to keep the boutique neat and tidy several days ago, and although she hardly noticed anymore, it likely looked as bad as she did. 

“Hi…” she called out lamely. “Is it... okay if I come in?”

Rarity sucked in a breath and donned her brightest smile. The moment of truth, Rarity. You can do this. “Of course it is, darling. We're...friends... aren't we?” The word came out sounding weak and pathetic, and Rarity silently cursed herself. She cleared her throat and composed herself before beckoning Pinkie inside. “Forgive me, darling. It’s been a busy week. How have you been?”

Pinkie eyed her warily, but tried a cautiously optimistic smile after she had subjected Rarity to a close inspection. “Oki doki.”

They sat down, though neither touched the chess pieces. Pinkie didn't let up with her inquisitive gaze, and it didn't take long before Rarity began to feel uncomfortable. “So, how are you and Rubber Stamp doing?” she asked, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

“We’re great!” Pinkie replied, smiling. “We had a lot of fun at parties, and a disco, and we even went to a wine tasting event.” She leant forward and whispered, “Stampy is funny when he gets drunk.”

Rarity affected a smile in turn and grabbed Pinkie’s hoof with her own. “I’m glad for you, darling.” It was an earnest statement; more earnest than Rarity thought she would have been able to be, but there it was. She found it within herself to be happy for Pinkie Pie even if every word twisted the knife a little more.

It will get better, she promised herself after letting go of Pinkie’s hoof. Time heals all wounds. It’s happened before. Of course, her love hadn’t been quite the love she felt now, but she ignored the differences.

However wonderful her performance was, however, it seemed that it still wasn’t quite good enough. Pinkie had lost her smile somewhere in Rarity’s sentence, and was now looking positively cowed.

“You don’t like him, do you?”

The room seemed cramped all of a sudden, and Rarity felt as though she couldn't get any air. “Nonsense! Why would you say that?" Her smile stretched until it felt unnatural, but she couldn't get her facial muscles to behave. "Granted I don’t know him very well but he seems like a nice enough stallion.”

“But you don’t like him.” It wasn't quite an accusation; the only things Pinkie Pie ever accused ponies of was breaking a promise or spiking the punch, but it was close enough to sting.

Whatever else might happen between them, Rarity knew that she didn't want to lose Pinkie's friendship. Expressing her disapproval of Pinkie's colt friend would force her to choose, and Rarity didn't want to find out what she would do if Pinkie chose the stallion over her. “What I think is of no concern. If he loves you and you love him then—”

“I don’t."

Rarity did a doubletake. “W-What?”

“I don’t love him,” Pinkie elaborated. “I love you.”

Rarity was confused. Her head spun, both with the fact that, not only had she been wrong in her assumptions, Pinkie would give up on most anything to be close to her. “Darling…” she started, completely overwhelmed. “I—”

“And I know you don't love me!” Pinkie interrupted her once again. “That's okay, I just... I just wanna be your friend, and stay close to you and have fun and laugh and…” She slowed down, taking a deep breath and letting it out in an equally deep sigh. “I like goofing around, but it’s not the same without you.” A sad, lonely filly who had both ears flattened against her head looked at Rarity for a moment longer and then stepped away from the table and trudged over to the door. “Sorry, Rarity. I'll go home now…”

Rarity shook off her stupor and got up as well, half sprinting, half stumbling in her haste to get to Pinkie before she reached the front door. “Darling, wait!” She saw Pinkie turn around slowly, and braced herself for what she was about to do. She lunged.

They collided with the hardwood of the front door with a loud 'bang' at the same time that Rarity's lips found Pinkie’s. The kiss was one that could have come straight from one of her romance novels. It was passionate—if one sided; romantic—if sudden; and liberating, although that might just have been her.

She kissed Pinkie until she ran out of breath and then kissed her some more until her lungs finally rebelled and pulled her away from the lips of the mare that she loved— the mare that loved her. “What if,” she said, panting softly. “What if I did love you as well?"

Pinkie looked at her, as speechless and confused as she had felt just a moment ago. Rarity belatedly realised that she had been a little overzealous in her confession, but that didn’t mean that she was going to let Pinkie go—ever.

"Come, darling,” she said, pulling Pinkie to her hooves and guiding her to the table. “Sit down."

Pinkie turned her head to look at Rarity, eyes still filled with awe and a little apprehension. "B-but..."

Rarity silenced her with a hoof to the lips, and a small, chaste, kiss on the nose. "No buts, darling. I am going to make us some tea, and then we are going to talk.” She smiled tenderly and caressed Pinkie’s cheek. “And perhaps a game of chess, if you still want to play?”

Pinkie surprised her with a sudden, and none too gentle hug, squeezing for all she was worth and sneaking in a shy kiss on Rarity’s cheek before taking her seat at the table. “I’d like that, but... I don’t get it! I mean, I’m super happy, but—” 

Rarity silenced the tirade with another kiss, then pulled back, smiled at her and said, “In a moment, darling. Let me get us some tea, and I’ll tell you a story.”

“A story?”

Rarity nodded. “It’s about a very foolish mare who nearly lost what she was looking for her whole life, just because when she found it, it wasn’t quite what she’d expected.”

“Oh!” Pinkie vibrated out of her chair with excitement. “Does it have a happy ending?”

“I think so, yes.” Rarity winked and gave her another kiss. “I’ll be right back.”





Tea, especially the simple chamomile kind that Rarity drank near constantly, had a nice soft aftertaste which lingered in the mouth for minutes following a drink; much like kissing Pinkie had.  It also helped that—no matter how much of the stuff she drank—it  didn’t interfere with the wonderful feeling that settled in her stomach like butterflies when she moved her first pawn forward. The tension she had walked around with for months was finally gone, and she’d already won the most important game she ever played.


~fin~