It was still dark when Rarity opened her eyes.
The right side of her face ached, a bloated knot of pain that flared with every beat of her heart. A hot metal taste in her mouth hinted at the cause, and she carefully ran her tongue along her teeth. There was a gap between two molars, just below her cheekbone, and she let the tip of her tongue linger there. The gums had long since healed, and it was only in moments of thoughtless repose, like now, that she remembered there had once been a tooth there at all.
The pain faded, and with it the taste of blood. She opened and closed her jaw a few times, just to make sure, but whatever phantom had resurrected her injuries was gone.
Just a memory. She let her head fall to the side, finding Rainbow Dash’s sleeping form still beside her. Just a dream.
The pegasus’s chest rose and fell, but the motion was so slow that Rarity nearly missed it. It seemed she took a breath only once a minute, or perhaps even less. Curious, Rarity reached out and placed the flat of her hoof against Rainbow’s side. It was warm, even through the thick coat, and she could feel Dash’s heart beating, its tempo slow and soft, a reassuring metronome that ticked away the night.
Rarity let her head fall back to the mattress, her hoof withdrawing to nestle against her chest as she thought. How often had she lain like this? Half awake, half asleep, drifting in the liminal haze between worlds like a pony struggling to remain afloat in a storm-tossed ocean. The waves crashed over her head, and she felt her eyes close despite all her efforts to remain awake. Her eyelids were millstones, impossibly heavy, and she let herself surrender to the night’s gentle undertow.
Even so, she was not dead to the world. She could feel the soft covers beneath her and the heat radiating from Dash’s body. She could smell the cotton sheets and the faint tang of ozone and sweat that marked Dash’s presence. She smelled two types of feathers -- the bleached, faintly feral down that filled her pillow, and the dusty, musty bite of pegasus wings. Together the scents combined into a single fragrance, a bouquet she unconsciously associated with sleeping in a fancy bed with a friend. She wriggled closer to Dash’s sprawled form, buried her muzzle in the coat between Dash’s wings and drew in a deep breath. It flooded her mind, and she held it in her lungs, struggling to remember in her befuddled state when last she had felt so safe.
Please let this last forever.
It couldn’t, of course, but perhaps Luna heard her prayer, for it lasted longer than she had any right to hope. It lasted what felt like hours, and her world was nothing beyond the soft downy feathers beneath her chin, the radiant warmth against her belly, and the all-pervasive scent of Rainbow Dash coating her mind like an opiate. It lasted until the darkness outside their window began its slow surrender to the dawn, unveiling the horizon and outlining the stark black shapes of trees and roofs against the somber gray sky.
And when it ended, she could think of no better way to have spent what might be her final hours with Rainbow Dash.
Rarity felt the pegasus shift, the warm body drawing away from her by an inch. She opened her eyes and saw that Dash’s were open too, their magenta irises barely visible in the predawn gloom. They gazed at the wall, unmoving except for the occasional blink. If she knew that Rarity was awake and staring at her, she gave no sign of it.
“Hey,” Rarity breathed.
“Hey,” Dash said. She frowned and reached up to her jaw, wincing when it made contact with her hoof. Her mouth worked soundlessly, and she made a face like she tasted something unpleasant.
“My face hurts,” she finally said.
“I know, I think it’s a side-effect of the spell. Give it a moment and it will pass. The taste of blood, too.”
Dash nodded and set her head back on the sheets, but every few seconds she prodded her cheek with her hoof, until after a while her ears stopped flicking away after each touch. She opened and closed her jaw, wrinkled her nose, and turned back to Rarity.
“What happened?” she asked.
“After Terrazzo jumped, I fainted. You remember that?”
“Yeah.” Dash looked away. “That really happened, didn’t it? Those were your memories?”
“They were. As best as I remember them, anyway.” Despite the somber topic, Rarity couldn’t help the faint smile that curved her lips. “Anyway, I struck my cheek on the curb. Cracked one of my molars. The dentist had to remove it.”
“Ah.” Dash studied her face for a long moment. “I can’t tell. It’s not uneven or anything.”
“I know. I had the dentist pull out the same tooth on my left side.”
Dash blinked. It was several seconds before she mouthed a quiet “Oh.”
“It’s fine.” Rarity rolled onto her back. The silver musical staffs and notes painted on the ceiling were a faint glimmer in the darkness. “Nopony’s ever noticed. I think you’re the first mare to know.”
“Doesn’t it, you know, make eating hard?”
“It did at first. Now I’m used to it, I suppose.”
There was a soft rustle, and Rarity felt Dash’s hoof brushing against her cheek. It was tentative at first, softer than a butterfly landing on her ear, but as the seconds passed and Rarity did not shrink away, her courage must have grown, and she gently ran her touch down Rarity’s jaw, below her flickering ear, and finally into her mane.
“Any other hidden wounds?” Dash asked. Her voice hovered just on this side of a whisper.
“None to speak of.”
“Hm.” Dash’s hoof withdrew from her mane, and a moment later Rarity felt it pressed against her breastbone, just above her heart. “Are you sure?”
A while passed before she responded – Dash’s touch was simply too precious to spoil with mere words. “Yes.”
“I think you’re lying. I was in that dream, remember.”
Ah. Rarity closed her eyes and rolled away. “Scars, Rainbow Dash. Not wounds.”
The bed shifted as Dash scooted up behind her. The chill of the night vanished, replaced by a soft coat and gentle warmth. A wing folded over her like a blanket.
“I think those matter too, Rares.”
“Maybe.” Rarity resisted the silly urge to grasp Dash’s wing in her mouth and gnaw on it, like she had with her blankets as a foal. Her friend probably wouldn’t appreciate that. “We’re just beating around the bush, you know.”
“Yeah.” Dash’s breath tickled the back of her neck. “What, ah… what happened? After that, I mean.”
“There was an inquiry. No charges were filed, as nopony could think of any laws we had broken. The tabloids published some of the more salacious rumors to emerge from the investigation, but too many ponies were interested in just smoothing the whole thing over. Looking Glass, obviously, but Terrazzo's family too.”
“Why? I thought they’d want to get back at him.”
“Oh, they did. They tried to ruin his businesses, but he managed to sell his interests off and abscond before they could truly destroy his reputation. Last I heard he was in Las Pegasus.”
“What about you?”
Rarity shrugged, enjoying the feel of Dash’s feathers sliding across her shoulders. “They didn’t care about me. Terrazzo never told anypony that we’d spoken. I was just the other mare, as far as her family was concerned. Not a pony worth their retaliation.”
“Not that I really disagree with their decision, but you’re more than that.”
Rarity rolled over, coming to rest nose-to-nose with Dash. She wrapped her legs around Dash’s and held them tight. “I slept with a stallion for money, Rainbow. What does that make me?”
“I dunno. Desperate? Afraid?”
“Those are just excuses.”
“Yeah, well…” She lapsed into a long silence. “What happened to your shop?”
“We got lucky.” Rarity reached her hoof out to brush down the unruly ruff of fur on Dash’s chest. She must have slept on it, for it poked out rudely from the rest of her coat like a bad case of bed mane. “I never got Looking Glass’s final cheque, of course, but the Boutique survived. Thimble volunteered to work without wages for the season, but fortunately it never came to that.”
Left unsaid were the months Rarity slept on the Boutique’s workroom floor after selling her apartment, or the twenty pounds she lost after Terrazzo’s suicide. The friends she never saw again, or worse, the look on Cinnabar’s face when they caught each other’s eye across a crowded market. The shock of recognition, followed by pity, a flash of anger, and finally scorn. Cinnabar may not have known the whole story behind Terrazzo’s death and Looking Glass’s flight, but she was a smart mare and could fill in the blanks. Rarity doubted she would ever be invited back to one of the mare’s classy dinner parties.
“Oh. Um, if you need, you know, I’ve got some bits saved up. I could share them if it would—”
Rarity placed a light kiss on the tip of Dash’s nose. Just a peck, but it was enough to instantly silence the mare and bring a bright red flush to her cheeks, visible even in the predawn gloom. “That’s very sweet of you, but it’s not necessary. I’m back to solvency and in no danger of running out of funds. I even have Looking Glass’s bits waiting in an account, plus two years worth of interest, should he ever show up at my door.”
Dash was silent for a while. Her eyes were crossed, staring down the bridge of her nose, and only slowly did her ears cease their frantic twitching. “You… wait, you’re going to pay him back?”
“Of course. That was our agreement.”
“But…” She trailed off, her mouth opening and closing like a beached fish. Eventually she rallied and nailed Rarity with an intense stare. “He doesn’t deserve it back! Not after all the pain he caused!”
“None of us deserved what happened, Dash. That’s just life. But if I can pay that money back, then I can pretend that it was all just a business deal—”
“But she died!” Dash sat up, glaring down at her. “Terrazzo died because of those bits!”
“A loan with special stipulations—”
“No! Don’t pretend it’s just about money!”
Rarity sat up. Her expression was carefully blank, the same neutral mask she had spent the past two years wearing in public to hide the turmoil in her heart. “That’s all that’s left, Dash. When I said I would gladly pluck out my eye for the chance to go back and undo these wrongs, I meant it. If tossing those bits in the ocean could bring Terrazzo back, I would do it in an instant. But I can’t do any of those things. All I have left is to honor the agreements I made.”
Dash leapt off the bed, her wings flapping in agitation. She turned in a circle on the floor and flinched when Rarity set a hoof down off the bed. “Then, I don’t know… Give them to charity, or something! Why should he get them back?”
“It’s not about him. It’s about me. I have to pay them back.” Rarity took a careful step forward, stopping when Dash shrank away from her.
“Why? What good does that do anyone? He obviously doesn’t care, and other ponies could use them more.”
“Because then the books are settled. It becomes a regular old loan, just like any other. And then, Dash,” she stepped forward, not minding the way Rainbow Dash’s ears lay flat against her skull, or how she crouched. “Then I can pretend I’m not a whore.” She was barely whispering when she finished.
There was silence in the room. Dash stared at her, unmoving, her mouth half-open as if to speak.
Rarity found she had nothing more to say. She turned and left the room, carefully closing the door behind her.
* * *
Mornings in this house are quickly losing their appeal.
It was an uncharitable thought, but Rarity could think of little else as she sat in the empty kitchen, nursing a mug of steaming coffee between her hooves. Sweetie Belle was still asleep, or at least pretending to be, and Dash hadn’t yet come down from their room. Since she had no idea what to say to the pegasus, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
Still, she reflected, things could have been worse. Rainbow hadn’t stormed off as soon as she woke, disgusted by the truth behind Rarity’s stay in Fillydelphia. She hadn’t cursed or denounced her, spread her shame to their friends, and demanded that she renounce any claim to the Element of Generosity or any of the other honors they had accumulated over the years.
She hadn’t done any of those things. Instead she had lain there, coat pressed against coat, asking questions. Even after she had seen Rarity’s worst, the sick nagging tumor on her soul, she had stayed and tried to help.
That deserved some consideration. She blew on her coffee and took a careful sip.
There was a sound of wood scraping on wood, and Rarity turned to see her sister pulling out the chair beside her. Neither spoke as she sat and set her own mug on the table. Rarity gave it a glance, then raised an eyebrow in Sweetie’s direction.
“I didn’t know you drank coffee.”
Sweetie shrugged. “I don’t if I have a performance, but today is just a practice and rest day.”
“Ah. It’s important to rest sometimes.”
“Mhm.” Sweetie took a small sip, let the liquid sit on her tongue for a moment, and then took a longer swallow. “I could make the obvious entendre about you and Rainbow Dash, but something tells me this isn’t the morning for it.”
“Perceptive as always. She’s still upstairs, by the way, before you start speaking about her too loudly.”
Sweetie’s ears flicked back toward the stairwell before returning to Rarity. “Well, she’s welcome to join us. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t talk.”
“Oh, we’re talking now?”
“It’s never too late. I’ve let you walk away too many times, ever since the two of you came back. And after each time I told myself, ‘I shouldn’t have let her get away.’ But I did, because you’re my big sister, and I guess a part of me still thinks you’re marvelous and perfect and never wrong about anything, especially love. All of which has me wondering now, after two mornings in a row where I find you in the kitchen before dawn looking like the shadow of death, why I didn’t stop you sooner.”
Rarity stared down at the table as Sweetie’s words crashed over her. When her sister finished, the silence that followed hung over them like an anvil, suspended by a hair, waiting to crash down and crush them.
Finally, Rarity swallowed. “I’m just trying to help—”
“Then you’re doing something wrong, sis. She doesn’t look like the one who needs help right now.”
Rarity set her mug down with a firm thud. “If there is one thing I’ve learned from living in Fillydelphia, Sweetie Belle, it is that I do not need help. I have everything I need to solve my problems. Rainbow Dash is the one haunted by a dead lover and whose life was falling apart just a week ago, if you will recall. I am going to help her, and if that means I spend a few maudlin mornings in this kitchen, then so be it.”
Sweetie leaned back from assault, but rallied as soon as Rarity fell quiet. “Sis, I appreciate that you’re trying to help her, but how exactly do you think this is going to end?”
Rarity frowned at her. “What does that mean?”
“I mean, is this a permanent thing? Are you two lovers now? Because I don’t see how you sleeping with her a few times and then leaving back to Fillydelphia will result in a long-term improvement to her state of mind.”
“Oh, well, we’re ah, not lovers...” Rarity’s train of thought briefly derailed as she recalled the graphicly shared nature of their dreams. “In the traditional sense, I mean.”
Sweetie Belle raised an eyebrow.
“That is, perhaps we’ve done some things that would be considered, er, unusual for two non-involved ponies.”
Sweetie’s other eyebrow joined the first.
“You know, I think I’ve said enough.” Rarity retrieved her cup and took a sip. “We’re very close. Let’s leave it at that.”
“I see. And this ‘very close’ relationship, what are you getting out of it, exactly?”
“Nothing. I am merely helping a friend.”
“Helping a friend.”
“That is what I said.”
“You get nothing out of it?”
Rarity huffed. “I get the satisfaction of helping a friend. That is quite enough.”
“It sounds quite generous. Tell me, what do you think Rainbow Dash would say if I marched upstairs right now and told her that your ‘close relationship,’ which I take to be rather intimate in nature, is simply an act of charity on your part? That your satisfaction exists only to the extent that she is helped?”
There was a long moment during which Rarity feared her heart had stopped.
“You…” Her voice caught as her heart resumed with a frantic, heavy beat. “You can’t do that.”
“Oh?” Sweetie Belle pushed the chair out and stood. “Rarity, this isn’t healthy for either of you, and I’m sick of seeing my sister and one of my best friends hurt each other. If you want to sleep with Rainbow Dash, then by all means do so. But make sure it’s for the right reason.”
“I’ll thank you to keep your advice—”
A creak from behind interrupted her. They both spun toward the sound and found Rainbow Dash at the top of the stairs, one hoof set down on the first step. Her mane was damp and hung around her ears and neck, as though she had emerged from the shower and forgotten what the towel was for, though considering how her mane normally looked, Rarity wasn’t sure Dash had ever been clear on that concept.
None spoke, though Rarity could imagine the thoughts bouncing through their heads. Hers were certainly obvious: How much did she hear?
Finally, Sweetie cleared her throat. “Well, I think I’m going to go get some breakfast. Any orders?” No one replied, and after a moment she nodded her head haltingly and hurried out the door.
And then there were two. Rarity briefly entertained the idea of scurrying after her sister, but such a retreat would only delay her reckoning with Rainbow Dash. Instead she coughed nervously and recovered her seat at the table. Her horn sparked, and Sweetie’s abandoned seat turned in invitation to the pegasus.
Dash stared at her from the top of the stairs. The rising sun had finally filled the hallway behind her, turning her body into a dark silhouette whose only defining feature was a pair of crimson sparks in her eyes. Damp wings flexed against her sides, though whether that was an unconscious reflex to dry them or a sign of Dash’s state of mind, Rarity could not tell. After what felt like hours, though surely was only a few seconds, Dash shook her head with a snort and trotted down the stairs to the empty seat.
“Good morning, darling,” Rarity said. “Again, I mean.”
“Yeah, morning, I guess.” Rainbow frowned down at Sweetie’s abandoned coffee mug. “Has it really only been a week?”
“A little over.” Rarity took a final sip from her cup. The coffee had lost all its heat and tasted like cool mud on her tongue.
“Feels longer. Rarity, what are we doing?”
“Trying to help each other, I suppose. Isn’t that what friends do?”
“Friends help each other, yeah. But friends don’t sleep with each other, and after those dreams I think I’ve had more sex with you than some of your actual lovers.”
A hot blush threatened to set Rarity’s mane on fire. She turned to look out the window until the worst of it passed. “We’ve both been through some hard times, lately. It’s normal to, ah, look for comfort afterwards.”
Improbably, a small smile appeared on Dash’s lips. “You’re hiding comfort under your tail?”
“A week ago, I’d have slapped anypony who said that to me.”
“Yeah, well, I have that effect on ponies.”
“And someday, Celestia willing, you’ll grow out of it.”
“Don’t hold your breath.” Dash rubbed her hoof on the table, clearing away a small smudge from some meal past. “So, we’re being intimate, which is awesome. But you told your sister it’s all just to help me. Normally I’d be offended.”
Rarity waited for several breaths before responding. “But you’re not?”
Rainbow Dash shook her head. “No. I think you’re lying.”
Rarity stiffened, stung. “Lying?”
“Uh huh. You can hide behind the whole generosity thing, but we’ve seen too much of each other for that to hold water.”
“Are you implying I’ve somehow lost my sense of charity?”
“No. I may not have liked those dreams, Rarity, but they just proved that you’re one of the best ponies I’ve ever known. Yeah, maybe things ended bad, but blame that on poor judgement or luck or pride. Don’t pretend you lost your sense of generosity, and now you need to fight to get it back.”
“Assuming that were true, and not some half-cooked justification for actions that killed a mare, what’s does it have to do with lying?” Rarity frowned and glanced at the door. How long did it take to run down to Sugarcube Corner and purchase some muffins?
“Because it’s a lie if you really do feel something when we’re together.”
They stared at each other in silence. Rarity felt her eyes tighten, and it was all she could do not to shout at the other mare. With great effort she pushed back the response welling in her throat, took a deep breath, and plowed forward.
“I’m not being greedy, Dash. I don’t deserve what you’re talking about.”
“Deserve? As if love was a coin, Rarity? Generosity means giving away things, but when it comes to love, doesn’t it means taking them as well?”
As if love was a coin. Rarity flinched at the comparison, and barely caught herself from falling out of the chair. Coins, jewels, time… all the precious things in her life, they were meant to be given away. It was what defined her, what made her the Element of Generosity.
Love was the same, wasn’t it? Given, and given, but never taken? So caught up was she in the thought that Dash’s next words took nearly a minute to register with her.
She looked up at the pegasus. “Love?”
Dash’s eyes widened, and suddenly she looked away. A hoof rose to fidget with her still-wet mane, and the words stumbled out of her mouth. “Well, I mean, that’s like, kind of a uh… I mean, we’ve been really, really close, and you know—”
At that moment the door opened, and Sweetie Belle stepped in. Hovering behind her was a small white box, and already Rarity could make out the scent of apples, strawberries, cream, walnuts, bananas, blueberries and many others wafting from within, all cocooned in the heady aroma of hot muffins.
“Okay, I got one of everything,” Sweetie said, setting the box on the table. “Who’s hungry?”
“Oh, thank Celestia,” Dash said. She tore the lid from the box, grabbed the closest muffin, and devoured half of it in a single bite. As she chewed, her eyes kept dancing between the treat in her hooves and Rarity’s face.
“Impeccable timing, sister,” Rarity mumbled. She lifted the banana nut muffin and floated it to her muzzle for a dainty bite.
“Huh?”
“Nothing.” Rarity took another bite and glanced at Dash. “Just thinking about something.”
It was only breakfast, after all. They had the whole day still to talk.
* * *
After consuming enough muffins for five regular breakfasts, Rarity excused herself to use the shower. Part of her quailed at the idea of leaving Rainbow Dash alone with Sweetie Belle, who would no doubt use the opportunity to grill the pegasus for every lurid detail of their week together. Of course, it wasn’t the juicy secrets that worried Rarity – such things were the coin of trade between sisters, stolen and fought over. No, that wasn’t what worried her.
But what if Dash told her about the other things she had seen? About the stallions, the money, the catastrophes and the death that stalked their dreams. Would Rainbow tell her of such things? She wasn’t normally given to rumors, but these were hardly normal times.
In the end, Rarity had no answer to those worries, so she banished them as best she could, leaning into the shower’s spray and letting it sting her cheeks and eyelids. She would simply have to trust that Rainbow Dash would keep their mutual secrets. And at least she hadn’t used up all the hot water.
Sometime later, when her coat felt like a sponge and her mane and tail were sodden purple strings plastered to her body, she shut off the water and stood in the draining tub. The bathroom window was firmly shut against the cool morning air, but a bright ray of sunlight pierced the fog and condensation around her to light the room and transform the countless droplets of water strewn on the tiles into a field of stars. She shivered as she stepped out of the tub and reached for the towels.
Except there were no towels, not hanging on the rack or on the wicker shelves she had installed for that very purpose years ago. Apparently Dash had known what the towels were for, and rather than using up all the hot water, had simply taken them all instead. Indignation warred with amusement in Rarity’s mind for a moment before she gave up and chuckled.
Still, it was a chilly, dripping walk down the hall to her borrowed room, and she grumbled all the way.
Sweetie Belle was gone when Rarity made it back downstairs with a dry coat and mane, and Rainbow Dash was settled on the couch, a book laid open before her. Her head rose as Rarity took a seat on one of the living room’s plush, overstuffed chairs, and she gave a small nod before turning back to her reading.
Rarity had never, despite all her years of courting and relationships, ever actually lived with another pony. The closest she had come was with Sweetie Belle, when her younger sister would sometimes spend days, weeks or even months living with her in the Boutique as a filly. But even that had simply been an extension of their arrangements when they both lived under their parents’ roof, albeit without their parents. For all her adult life, and especially since moving to Fillydelphia, she had lived alone.
What was it like to live with another pony? One not obligated by ties of blood to love her despite her faults? One whose only ties, in fact, were love?
Was that even for her? Could she spend the rest of her life, tens of thousands of days, never again truly alone? Always shadowed by another soul? How long would it be before they ran out of things to say, or exciting moments to share, and their lives fell into mutual silence and they became like ghosts, haunting each other before even the courtesy of dying?
Wouldn’t it feel awkward, Rarity wondered, to spend hours in silence with her mate? She could barely stand a thirty second pause in conversations without becoming uncomfortable. How did married couples last for years?
“Hey, Rarity?” Dash’s voice broke her from her musings. “There’s room over here.” She patted the empty cushion beside her with a hoof.
“Ah, thank you.” Rarity hopped down and walked over to the couch, settling in against Dash’s side. After a moment, the pegasus extended a wing and draped it over her back. It was the warmest blanket Rarity had ever felt.
Since she was already there, Rarity decided that Dash’s shoulder made for an acceptable pillow, and she leaned her head against it. So situated, Rarity returned to her thoughts, and Rainbow Dash returned to her book, and something like silence resumed dominion over the room.
Except it wasn’t quite silent, Rarity realized. She could hear Rainbow Dash’s heart.
* * *
“Love is not a coin, you said.”
Rainbow Dash paused, her muzzle pressed against the page she was in the process of turning when Rarity’s voice broke the silence. It was the first real sound in hours – Rarity had dozed off at some point, and when she woke the sun had shifted, and now its light streamed in the south windows, slowly warming the room. Dash blinked, apparently caught unaware, then tilted her head down at the unicorn.
“Remember?” Rarity said. “We were talking about love and generosity, and you said it wasn’t a coin to be given away.”
“Oh, yeah. Because it’s not.”
Rarity resisted the urge to frown. “Yes, love is not really a small metal disk. I understand metaphors, Dash. But what did you mean by it?”
“I already told you.”
“Yes, but I want to hear it again.”
“Ah. Sorry, but I forgot.”
“You did not!”
“I did.” Rainbow Dash turned back to her book, a small smile playing on her lips. “Sorry.”
“I’m serious, Rainbow.” Rarity emphasized her point by prodding Dash’s shoulder with her horn. “Tell me again.”
Rainbow Dash was silent for some time. The skin around her eyes tightened, and after a few heartbeats she closed her book and pushed it away.
“It was just a stupid thought,” she said, not looking at Rarity. “But, what Sweetie said, about all this being an act of charity you’re doing for me… that can’t be right.”
Rarity found she could barely breathe, and she swallowed loudly before answering. “Dash, you saw the real me last night. Did that look like somepony who can have a healthy, loving relationship?”
“I saw a mare who was hurt. There seems to be a lot of that going around.”
Ah, touche. Rarity glanced away before meeting Dash’s eyes again. “Maybe. Maybe I’m hurt because of my guilt and my poor choices. But you’re hurt because of a tragic loss you didn’t cause and you certainly didn’t deserve. When I saw you last week, Dash, you looked like a broken mare. I’ve never been so afraid for one of my friends.”
“And I can never thank you enough for that, Rarity.” Dash leaned forward to brush her cheek against the unicorn’s. “But that’s no excuse to ignore your own wounds.”
“Pinpricks, Dash. That’s all they are.”
“Liar.”
Rarity shook her head. “Don’t pretend we’re alike, Dash. You’re a good pony.”
Dash rolled her eyes. “Jeez, you’re a thick one, you know that?”
“Oh, are we insulting each other now? Well, I’ll—mmmph!”
Whatever else Rarity had planned to say fled her mind as Dash moved, quick as lightning. Her hoof reached around Rarity head to pull her forward, and Dash’s muzzle met hers, their mouths mashing together in a rough, one-sided kiss. She felt Dash’s tongue brush against her lips, running along them before pressing forward with hot, wet insistence.
She let it in, of course. It was the easiest decision she’d made in months. A moan escaped her as her tongue found Dash’s, and they played together inelegantly, as clumsily as two teenagers sneaking their first kiss in the shadows outside their parents’ house. Dash’s teeth clicked against hers and their noses bumped uncomfortably and she could taste the frosting from the morning’s muffins in Dash’s saliva. It was sloppy and dreadful and the opposite of everything Rarity ever tried for in her lovemaking.
It was wonderful.
After a few breathless seconds they broke apart and stared at each other. After just a moment of that they both found something else to stare at, either the couch or their hooves or the ceiling or an otherwise nondescript spot on the wall. The silence was definitely gone now – the rush of her breath was loud in Rarity’s ears, and she swore she could hear Rainbow Dash panting. The wing draped over her barrel shook in time with Dash’s heartbeat.
“Well!” Rarity tried to flip her mane casually out of her eyes, but managed to do little more than bob her head around like a bird. “That was, ah, that was very forward of you, Rainbow Dash.”
“Yeah, sorry.” Dash’s ears folded back, and she licked her lips. “I just, you know… I mean, you kind of looked like—”
“I didn’t say it was bad, darling. Just forward.”
“Oh.” Dash’s ears perked back up. “Okay. So, like, if I did it again, that would be fine?”
Rarity knew she should have some quip prepared for this, some light joke to set the mood at ease while simultaneously demonstrating that she was calm, comfortable and in control. She was a master of such sexual politics and this time should have been no different.
Instead, it was all she could do to nod and hope that there weren’t too many pieces of the morning’s breakfast still stuck in her teeth.
Dash came in slow this time, and hesitated, jerking back just a hair when their lips touched. Rarity gave her a second to recover her courage, and when nothing seemed forthcoming, leaned forward enough to close the distance.
It was chaste, their second kiss. Slower, more considered, at least to Rarity; she couldn’t imagine what was going on in Dash’s head, though to judge by the way her jaw trembled and her ears flicked every which way, she was either either very nervous, confused or excited.
Hopefully the last. Rarity parted her lips and let her tongue gently probe the seam between Dash’s. She felt the pegasus jerk, her breath hitching, but soon enough Dash’s tongue joined hers, and they teased each other, dancing wetly at the join between their breaths. It lasted far longer than the first hasty kiss, and when Dash finally pulled away her shaking had ceased.
“It’s, uh…” Dash licked her lips and froze for a moment, as though suddenly remembering what she was tasting. “Uh, sorry. It’s been a little while since I’ve done that.”
“You were fine, darling.” Rarity darted forward to land another peck on Dash’s lips. “I daresay it’s been too long since I’ve done this, too.”
“What, kissed somepony?”
“No. Kissed somepony and meant it.”
With that, Rarity leaned back in, and it was quite a while before they spoke again.
* * *
“So, you gonna stay in Fillydelphia forever?”
Rarity glanced over to see Rainbow Dash approaching her park bench. A brown paper bag blotched with dark greasy spots was balanced on her back between her wings, and as Rainbow sat down beside her on the bench, she set it down between them. The cloying odor of oil and fried pastry and sugar wafted from it.
To hell with it, diets are overrated anyway. So decided, she reached into the bag with her magic and floated out a funnel cake. Powdered sugar drifted from it like snow, speckling the wood bench and her coat as she took a bite.
“Well?” Dash asked again. She rooted around in the bag with her muzzle and came out with another funnel cake held in her jaws. The poor thing only lasted a few seconds before it was reduced to crumbs and memories.
Rarity shook her head at the spectacle. “Would it kill you to eat a bit more slowly, dear?”
“Maybe. Never tried.”
“Well, try to be a bit tidier, at least in public, hm?” Rarity reached out a hoof to brush a few crumbs from Dash’s muzzle. Half her face was dusted white with sugar, but there wasn’t much help for that.
“Whatever. So, Fillydelphia?”
Rarity turned her gaze back to the funnel cake floating before her. Like most confections born in Sugarcube Corner, it was the epitome of its kind. Crisp yet fluffy, sweet but not syrupy, with just enough powdered sugar to be welcome and not choke the tastebuds. For all that, though, just two bites were enough to satisfy her, and she passed the remainder over to Rainbow, where it promptly vanished.
“It’s a nice town,” she said. “I’ve enjoyed living there.”
“Lot of nice towns in Equestria.”
“But not many with their own fashion ecosystem. Only Canterlot and Manehattan come close.”
Rainbow Dash was silent after that, and Rarity turned to see her staring down at the grass, a tiny frown on her lips. Her wings ruffled at her side, but aside from her twitching ears and tail she remained motionless.
“What about you?” Rarity finally asked. “You grew up in Cloudsdale but lived here most of your life. Could you see yourself living anywhere else?”
“I don’t… I don’t really live in Cloudsdale most of the year. Just in the off season.”
“That sounds rather… ah, ungrounded, I suppose. But that’s not a problem for pegasi, is it?”
Dash shrugged with her wings. “Not really. A lot of pegasi settle down more when they have foals, but even that’s just temporary. Once they fledge it’s back to living wherever you want.”
“Have you ever thought about that? About foals, I mean?”
Several seconds passed before Dash answered. “I didn’t used to, back when Soarin was alive. You can’t really have foals if you’re a Wonder Bolt. Or the mares can’t, anyway. Stallions can have as many foals as they want, I suppose.”
Rarity sniffed. “That hardly seems fair.”
“Yeah, but it’s the way it is. A lot of the stunts we do, they push your body right to the edge. Trying to do them while carrying a foal in your body…” Dash shook her head. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
“So you never thought about it?”
Rainbow Dash avoided Rarity’s eyes, looking down as she scraped the tip of her hoof again the bench. The dark, wet finish flaked away, leaving a bright blonde scar ribbed with the wood’s grain. She frowned down at the mark, but her eyes were distant, and Rarity wondered what she was really seeing.
The silence extended. In days past, Rarity might have broken it to prod Dash for an answer, or simply chattered herself to fill the emptiness in their conversation. Silence and introspection rarely led to good outcomes for her, and over the years she had learned dozens of techniques to paper over them.
But the past week had changed things for them both, and she let the lull drag itself out. Dash would either answer or she wouldn’t, and it was not Rarity’s place to force her. And in the end, it wasn’t necessary.
“You know, I kind of have,” Rainbow Dash said. Her voice was so low Rarity had to lean in to hear it over the wind. “After he was gone, I spent a lot of time tallying all the things I had lost, and that was one of them. We were together for over two years, and we never once even talked about it, but after he died I realized that we would never have foals together. I lost something I never had and I never realized I wanted until it was gone. How silly is that?”
Rarity swallowed thickly and blinked to clear her eyes. Dash’s voice had grown shakier as she spoke, and by the end tears were trickling down her muzzle, leaving dark blue streaks in her coat.
This wasn’t what I wanted. Rarity squeezed her eyes shut and reached out with a foreleg, gently pulling Dash’s head toward her. When Dash’s face was nestled against her breast, and she felt the pegasus’s hot, halting breath, she whispered the only words that came to mind. “I’m sorry. I’m here for you.”
It was enough, apparently. Something inside Dash broke, and she bawled into Rarity’s coat there on the bench, the rest of the world forgotten around them.
* * *
“Sorry about that. I just got a little, you know… I mean, I don’t usually do that.”
“And I said it’s nothing to be ashamed of, darling.” Rarity gave Dash a little bump with her flank as they walked toward the Boutique. The sun was low and golden in the sky, and their shadows marched along beside them. The warmth of the day was already fading, and Rarity suspected it would be a frosty night.
“Yeah, but, still.” Rainbow Dash rubbed her eyes again with the back of her fetlock. They were no longer red and puffy, but anypony who looked close could tell that she’d been crying, and she had insisted on returning to the Boutique for dinner rather than eating out.
“But nothing. Nopony will think any less of you for a few tears, Dash, and if they do, their opinion isn’t worth much anyway.”
“I know.” She cleared her throat again, as she had every minute for the past half hour. “Thank you, by the way.”
It was almost a reflex to turn down Dash’s gratitude; to aver that it was the least she could do. Instead she leaned over and brushed her cheek against Dash’s. “You’re welcome.”
They made the rest of the walk back in silence. Sweetie Belle was already inside, and the scent of dinner greeted them as soon as they opened the door.
It was not a bad day, Rarity decided as Dash practically galloped toward the food. What had begun with fear and resignation ended with tears, but not of pain.
She wasn’t sure if they were tears of healing, yet. But that was fine.
They had time.