In her will, Rarity had given most of her estate to either Sweetie Belle or charitable causes. To my surprise, though, she also left a small portion to me, including all of her belongings that were still in my house. I offered her personal effects to Sweetie Belle, but she refused, saying she wanted to honor the letter of the will. I told her she was welcome to claim the items at any time in the future if she wanted, but she never took up my offer.
Rarity’s funeral was in March.
Sweetie Belle hired the best mortician in town, so that Rarity would look more like how we wanted to remember her. Open Casket did his best, filling out her face and restoring her complexion with both physical enhancers and spellwork, but Rarity still didn’t look as natural as we hoped she would. Sweetie Belle lost her temper at him, calling him a mussel-headed incompetent, before breaking down in tears.
I assured her that he did the best he could, and as distressing as everything must have been for her, we couldn’t avoid the fact that a dead pony would look unnatural.
“... ‘S not fair…”
“I know, Sweetie. I’m sorry.”
Open Casket stood aside as I let Sweetie Belle cry into my chest, offering a box of tissues. When Sweetie regained her composure, he took a step forward, meeting her eyes with his own.
“I apologize for the limits of my skills, Miss Belle.” He spoke with firm compassion.
“No… that’s okay. I shouldn’t have blown up at you like that.”
“I’m very sorry for your loss.”
Sweetie hugged him briefly.
“Thank you for your work.” She told him.
Coco Pommel made a burial dress for Rarity free of charge. She said it was for all the times Rarity helped her, from getting her footing in the business to giving her the chance to expand her brand here in Ponyville. It was a dark blue, long-sleeved affair, with a beige ribbon around the waist and patterns woven out of pearls around the neckline. The fire ruby necklace Rarity had fitted with the stone Spike gave her all those years ago completed the ensemble.
Roseluck gave us a large clutch of preserved white roses at a reduced price, which we used to line Rarity’s coffin. She added a bouquet for us at no extra cost. The coffin itself was made out of red oak, polished and varnished to a waxy sheen. Rarity’s staff at Canterlot Carousel donated the money to pay for it. There were also donations from her colleagues and employees from Los Pegasus to Baltimare, which paid for the grave marker and covered part of the cost of the burial plot.
We made a bed of roses over the cushions furnished with the coffin, and laid Rarity’s body inside, bouquet in hoof over her chest. If it weren’t for the fact she was dead, I’d almost have said she looked peaceful. But she was far too still; I kept thinking that, any minute now, her hooves would twitch and her eyelids would flutter, and she would sit up as if she was waking from a long sleep, even if I knew that would never happen.
She looked like a princess from one of those fairytales she liked when we were both younger. But no prince charming would have a kiss powerful enough to revive her.
It was a beautiful day in early spring, when the newly-sprouted leaves still had a tenderness to their color. We gathered at the grassy clearing next to the cherry stand, where the flowers were in full bloom. Petals fell all around us in the gentle breeze, dotting Rarity’s body and the cloth of her dress.
Ponies from all over Equestria came to attend. Apart from Twilight, Spike, Pinkie, Rainbow, Applejack, and myself, there were of course our families and close friends. Cheese Sandwich and Trixie sat next to Pinkie, little Gooseberry sleeping in Cheese’s lap. Scootaloo managed to secure her leave from the Wonderbolts at the last minute, and joined Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle in her dress uniform. Big Mac sat behind Applejack, together with Cheerilee and their Trottingham relatives--Allington Pippin, Bardsey Red, Blenheim Orange, and Kingston Black--who were living with them. Shining Armor came in his dress uniform, too, with Princess Cadence and their daughter. As for the rest of Rarity’s family, two aunts none of us except Sweetie Belle had ever met were the only attendees. Golden Fleece and his family were conspicuous in their absence; Sweetie Belle had once told me she’d heard Rarity say Golden Fleece was a bit of an outcast from his family, though she couldn’t be sure if that was really the case.
Then there were Rarity’s colleagues, coworkers, and longtime patrons. There were fashion critics, like Hoity Toity, Purple Velvet, and Dainty Stride. There were fellow designers, like Argent Grace, Gold Lamé, and Coco Pommel. There were Rarity’s staff members, like Sassy Saddles and Waxed Thread. There were even textile manufacturers like Flying Shuttle and Steam Weaver. Sapphire Shores, long retired from her singing career, made an appearance; it was a bit of a surprise seeing her in an understated black dress after having known her over-the-top stage presence for so long, but there she was, in mourning colors and dark shades. Coloratura was there, too, briefly greeting us before taking a place behind Big Mac. Another surprising appearance was from Cloud Burst, wearing a suit with a bolo tie around his neck and a black ten-gallon hat. He brought with him a wreath sent from Night Coda, who was on the overseas portion of her tour. He himself was set to perform in town that night. He said he’d heard about what Rarity was going through from the friend who’d referred him to her for getting his stage costume made, and let Night Coda, a longtime acquaintance, know about it. Night Coda wanted to send a thank-you gift, but by the time he called ahead to ask where he should drop it off when he arrived in town, Rarity had already passed. He’d traded in Night Coda’s gift for a floral arrangement in her name, and wanted to leave it with the funeral home. When he found out the funeral was that very day, though, he decided that it would be appropriate for him to pay his own respects as well. He was a lot more subdued than I expected him to be.
Several other floral contributions were commissioned to Roseluck, Lily, and Daisy’s shops by ponies who could not be present. There was even a rock arrangement from Pinkie’s sisters--three geodes with aquamarine quartz inside, arranged to form a shape reminiscent of Rarity’s cutie mark. Roseluck herself added a blue rose to the bouquet arrangement on Rarity’s chest.
When everyone had settled into their seats, Sweetie Belle stood up and walked to the microphone stand in front of the crowd.
“I’d like to thank everyone for coming here today, for my sister Rarity’s funeral.” She began. “I’m sure she meant a lot to each and every one of you, and I’m glad she had such positive effects on such a large group of ponies, dragons, mules, and griffons. We may not know each other well, but I’m sure every one of us will always remember Rarity, her courtesy, her vision, and her generosity.
“For me, Rarity was always someone to aspire towards, whether out of admiration or envy. I remember when I was a foal and wanted to be just as beautiful and popular as she was; at times, I resented her because she always attracted more attention than I ever could. Still, she was always looking out for me, even if she didn’t always understand how different our interests could be.
“As I got older, I started paying attention to all the things beneath the surface that made Rarity the center of attention, because I gradually understood that appearance alone would never explain it. The more I observed, the more I noticed how cordially and respectfully she treated everyone, how freely she gave of her time and materials if someone else was in need. I also saw how dedicated she was to mastering her chosen field of expertise, and saw all of these things in our parents, too, even if they were dedicated to different skills and crafts. What I saw inspired me to be more courteous and more driven in discovering and honing my own talents, and I’m thankful to Rarity and my parents for that.
“In some ways, though, Rarity was always a mystery to me. A lot of the time she tended to exaggerate her emotions, but there were times when she would get really quiet instead. I’ve wondered now and again what was going through her mind in those moments. At other times I’ve wondered about the nuances of her creative process, maybe how it compared to mine. What inspirational sparks she was looking for.
“In life, we often encounter things that are profound to us, but explaining why they’re profound to someone else often means the magic of it is lost. I guess her dresses were her attempts at capturing the magic, kind of like my songs. But even then, it’s an imperfect translation. I’ll never know what her original spark of inspiration felt like. And what’s even worse now is that there won’t be any translations anymore, either.
“I’ll miss you, Rarity.”
Each one of the remaining six of us were supposed to give a speech as well. Twilight took the stage first, and recited two poems about how the golden hours of morning and evening never last as long as you want them to. There was a long pause afterwards as she blinked a few times, then squeezed her eyes closed for a few seconds to gather herself.
“... Right now, I feel like I only got to spend the morning and evening with Rarity. They were beautiful moments, yes, but I wish… I wish we’d had more time.”
As she walked back to her seat, I saw her wiping at the corners of her eyes.
Rainbow Dash started hers by recounting the story of how she saved Rarity at her first Best Young Fliers competition, and the time when Rarity had been kidnapped by a band of diamond dogs, before mentioning the time when Rarity saved her in turn and helped exonerate her of the charge of sabotaging the Wonderbolts.
“You were always the clever one, Rares, and a lot tougher than I expected you to be. But what the hell have you gotten yourself into this time, Rares? How in the world will we help each other now?”
A bitter expression crossed her face, and she stomped the ground.
“This wasn’t meant to happen, Rares! There were supposed to be more adventures in store for us, for all of us! Why did it have to be now?”
She let off an angry growl before returning to her seat, rocking back and forth.
Applejack removed her hat as she stood before all of us. She turned her eyes to Rainbow Dash, then Twilight, before sweeping them all over the crowd.
“Ya know, I tried to live my life with no regrets.” She sighed. “But the longer I live, the more I’m findin’ that doing that gets mighty difficult.”
She paused, scrunching up her face.
“Most of y’all probably already know Rarity spent a long time away from this here town. But some of y’all--heck, most of y’all--probably don’t know the real reason why.”
She snorted, sitting down on the grass.
“We all know life can make folk grow apart, and maybe that’s what you think made Rarity move away. Maybe, in a way, that was what happened. But I can’t say I wasn’t responsible for it. See, me and Rarity, we had a fight before she left. She and someone she cared about a lot proposed to build a wool factory on a parcel of land on Sweet Apple Acres we’d left growing wild for years. I refused because my dear departed Granny Smith had wanted to expand back into that patch and start growing on it again. We were both drunk, and in the heat of the moment, I forced Rarity and her lover to leave my house. Into the pouring rain, at that. I never saw her again for many years.
“Now, you all know we Apples care about the land we till. But what I did was inhospitable and dishonorable. We could’ve at least talked it out, worked out some kind of alternative. Instead, I drove a wedge between Rarity and me--and all the rest of us, because of my pride.
“Long ago, I learned a lesson about how there ain’t no place like home. And it’s all true. But sometimes, I don’t put enough thought into what makes a home. There’s more to it than the land you till and build on, ‘cause home ain’t nothin’ without folk you care about--whether that’s family, or friends. I’m ashamed to say my stubborn self needs to learn and relearn that lesson over and over again.
“So, for you, Rarity, and for everyone gathered here today--I’m sorry.”
She put her hat back on, and returned to her seat.
Pinkie Pie looked a lot more subdued than usual; her mane was deflated and almost straight, and her usual smile was a ghost of itself. She tucked her hair behind her ears as she took a deep breath, then began her speech.
“You know, out of all my closest friends, I got to know Rarity the least. I was always a little more energetic than she was, and I did annoy her now and again. But hey, it was all in good fun. I feel like she knew that, too.
“Maybe it was because of that that I knew how to cheer up Rarity the least. Especially since she came back. I know she’s been through a lot of sad things just by the way she’d act sometimes, but she never told me about them. And as much as I tried to keep her mind off of those things, I get the feeling I wasn’t always successful.”
She paused, taking another deep breath.
“Wherever you are, Rarity, I hope you won’t have to feel sad anymore.”
It was my turn. I stood up, walking slowly towards the microphone stand.
I was very glad I was wearing a veil as I surveyed the crowd. It felt like everyone’s eyes were on me.
“Um…”
I trailed off into an expectant silence, forgetting everything I thought I wanted to say.
Everything in the crowd was more noticeable from where I was standing. Twilight had tear streaks running down her face, and she was sniffling. Applejack had a hoof on her shoulder, her eyes obscured by her hat. Rainbow Dash had settled back down, but her harsh expression had not changed. Pinkie Pie was staring into her lap, fidgeting with her feet.
Behind them, Cheerilee had collapsed into Big Mac’s chest, shuddering with every sob. Big Mac patted her gently on her back to comfort her. Elsewhere, Sassy Saddles had broken down, too, and was crying into Coco Pommel’s shoulder. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo were huddled together with Sweetie Belle. Sapphire Shores and Waxed Thread both looked morose, staring in my direction but looking through me.
Scenes like these repeated themselves all throughout the crowd. Far in the back, ponies I didn’t even recognize were weeping into kerchiefs.
“I… I...”
What could I have told them? That I loved Rarity, that she meant the world to me? That losing her felt like losing a leg or a wing? That I wished she could have loved me back with all of her heart?
“I… I don’t… I don’t know what I can say. I’m sorry.”
No. I couldn’t have. Because Rarity wasn’t mine alone to claim.
Sapphire Shores and Waxed Thread continued to stare in my direction, along with much of the rest of the audience. I sat back down, wishing I could have said at least some words of platitude.
Spike said nothing at all. He just placed a teardrop-shaped sapphire brooch on Rarity’s chest before sitting back down.
We all lined up to pay our respects. When it came to my turn, I placed a hoof on her chest, almost like I was anticipating her heart to still be beating. But as before, she was cold and still.
Many of the rest of the attendees left flowers, notes, or other small items in the coffin like Spike had done. When it was over, we carried the coffin to the cemetery, and laid Rarity’s body down.
When I first got home after the ceremony, I was totally exhausted. It wasn’t until the next day that I found the resolve to tidy up the guest bedroom and put Rarity’s belongings away. There were still several rough and unfinished drawings on her table, laid over each other haphazardly. It was when I was tidying these drawings up that I found her letter, folded neat and precise into an envelope marked “To Fluttershy” on the front.
Dearest Fluttershy,
I suppose since I’m already writing letters of apology for my customers, I should also write this letter to you. I feel that you deserve an explanation and an apology from me as well, so that you can understand why I cannot give you your heart’s desire.
Even after all these years, and despite the fact that we were never able to start a family like we both wanted, my heart still belongs to Golden Fleece. Though circumstances have parted us prematurely, I still think of him every day. Some days… are harder than others, but happy or sad, I will cherish every moment I spent with him for the rest of my admittedly short time left.
Golden Fleece hasn’t had an easy life. He and his family had a falling-out over his choice of career and he’s been estranged from them ever since. The first love of his life who he’d met soon afterwards when he had little except daydreams and ambitions eventually cheated on him with an acquaintance of his. For a while after, he had a difficult time settling down anywhere, and was on the verge of homelessness more than once. He’s never wanted me to feel sorry for him about all of this--he said he doesn’t mind the experience since it showed him how to stand on his own feet and never rely too much on anyone else to succeed. But it only strengthened my resolve to be there for him as a stable anchoring point.
He has done the same for me, as well; in that period of time when I first received my diagnosis, when I was still estranged from Ponyville, he stuck by my side and guided me through those rough waters. I swore to myself to never abandon him because of it. I’m still holding true to that promise in many ways, even though perhaps it would be foolish to hold true to them now. Love makes fools of all of us, I suppose.
So, as foolish as it may be, I’m still committed to Golden Fleece and his memory. I think I’ve become set in my ways in that regard, so I fear I cannot offer you the love and devotion you deserve. What little I have offered you feels like a mockery, as if I’m merely stringing you along. I wish I could give you more, give you everything I have, but even my everything, I fear, would be too little.
Don’t think for a moment that I do not reciprocate your feelings. You are the most compassionate, pure-hearted pony I know, and you are wiser and more courageous than even you may realize. It makes my chest feel tight just thinking that despite everything, you still treat me with a kindness I don’t think I wholly deserve.
Thank you, Fluttershy. For everything.
I implore you, darling, to find someone who can love you back properly. Please do not make the mistake I made of loving a shadow. You deserve to be happy, darling.
Maybe, on some long distant day after I’m gone, we will meet again in a different form, and have a chance to make things right.
Yours truly,
Rarity
After re-reading the letter for the first time in a long time, I replace it in the same envelope Rarity had put it in all those years ago. I brought it with me when I first came here, and it’s never left my bedside since. I’m glad none of the others have asked anything about it, at least not yet.
Despite Rarity’s wishes and my best efforts, I still repeated her mistakes. I never found anyone else after she died. There was no one else who could spark that part of me. There never would be.
“Oh, Rarity.” I whisper to no one in particular. “How could I have loved anyone but you?”
I lie back down and close my eyes. Maybe, just maybe, I will meet Rarity on the other side.
The world is bright and blurry. I feel like I’m floating on a cloud in a gentle breeze. I can hear muffled talking, and can make out a white-coated pony standing vaguely near me, her curly mane cascading down the back of her neck.
“Rarity…?” I call out.
“Oh good, she’s awake…” I hear someone say.
My eyes begin to adjust, and the world becomes clearer. I am still in my hospice bed.
The white-coated pony bears a strong resemblance to Rarity, but the color and style of her mane is different.
Sweetie Belle turns around to face me. “Good morning, Fluttershy.”
The older she gets, the more I think she looks like Rarity.
“Good morning.”
“How have you been, Fluttershy? Sorry I couldn’t visit you earlier.”
Sweetie Belle is still going strong in her career. She’s become quite the mentor figure to a lot of younger artists, too, so I can understand why she might not have much time.
“Oh, just… I’m doing well, I suppose.”
“She’s been doing more or less okay.” Rainbow adds. “We’ve talked a bit about the past over these last few days. Granted, she hasn’t done much of the talking.”
“Reminiscing about the good times?” Sweetie Belle asks both of us.
“Yeah… mostly.” Rainbow answers.
“Well, I know the past isn’t all roses and posies, but there’s a lot to be cheerful about.”
“I suppose so.” I respond, looking absently out of the window.
The day is as clear as it was last night, and the sky is piercing blue. On a nearby rooftop, I notice a pair of magpies hopping around each other, chittering at one another over the gutter. My eyes track their movements as they dance up the slope to the widow’s walk, then up into the air as they weave in and out of each other’s path.
“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Sweetie Belle chimes in.
“Yes… would you mind opening the windows for me?”
“Not at all.”
Cool fresh air rushes into the room, along with the gentle hubbub of the town outside. The two magpies have gone out of sight, but I can still hear them. They sound like a young couple still testing the waters of their relationship, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other’s company. There is a light, carefree tone to their voices.
I let out a long sigh. It really was a beautiful day today.
“They sound so happy.”
“Hm?” Sweetie Belle turns towards me.
“Those magpies, I mean.”
“They do sound like they’re enjoying themselves.”
Memories of other magpies come rushing back at me, memories of different seasons and different years, all spent with Rarity.
One for sorrow, two for mirth.
“Here’s to hoping they share a wonderful life together.”
“Hmm?” Sweetie Belle cocks her head.
“They’re a couple.” I explain.
“Oh, I see.” Sweetie nods. “Do they mate for life?”
“Not always, but very often.”
We continue to listen. Rainbow Dash keens her ears, too, looking out of the window.
Three for death, four for birth.
“Sweetie Belle?”
“Yes?”
“Have you… ever wondered about whether if seeing magpies would really predict the future?”
“Like in that nursery rhyme?”
“Yes.”
“Um… not too often. Why do you ask?”
“Because… well, because Rarity asked me the same thing a few months before she passed away.”
A quizzical look enters Sweetie Belle’s eyes as she looks at me, intrigued by the information.
Five for silver, six for gold.
“Why did she ask that?” Sweetie inquires.
“I-I’m not sure.” I answer. “But it might have had something to do with her condition, how she didn’t have much time left. We saw two magpies--one alive, one dead--a few months before that, and we saw a single magpie that day when we went out for a walk.”
“Hmm.”
“She also asked me about whether I believed in an afterlife.” I continue.
Sweetie Belle goes quiet for a moment, before asking the natural question. “Do you believe in an afterlife?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Okay.” Sweetie Belle nods. “How did you answer her question just then?”
‘I-I told her I didn’t know.”
“Okay. Did she tell you anything about what she believed?”
“Well, um… she said we would never know for sure, but we all still hope there is an afterlife.”
Sweetie Belle takes another pause.
“Personally, I do hope so, too.” She comments.
Seven for a secret, never to be told.
“Sweetie Belle?”
“Yes, Fluttershy?”
“I… I have a confession to make.”
Rainbow Dash turns her attention back to us at this revelation, looking at me expectantly.
“Uh… should I be here for this, or do you want me to leave for a bit?”
I think about it for a moment, whether I’m ready to tell her.
“Um, you can stay.”
Rainbow Dash gets closer to the bed. Sweetie Belle leans in, speaking almost in a whisper.
“What is it?”
“It’s… it’s in that envelope.” I gesture at Rarity’s letter.
Sweetie Belle picks up the envelope to examine it. She seems to recognize Rarity’s writing immediately, and pulls the letter out. Unfolding it, she begins reading. Now and again, she stares into the page for a moment, trying to absorb all of the implications of the words set before her.
“What does it say?” Rainbow asks. Sweetie pauses, before passing the letter to her.
“Dearest Fluttershy, I suppose since I’m already writing letters of apology for my customers, I should also write this letter to you…” Rainbow begins mumbling along to the contents of the letter. Sweetie waits for her to finish with a kindhearted expression on her face, before asking me,
“... Were you in love with my sister?”
“Yes.” I answer. “I still am.”
Rainbow contorts her face through several expressions, before settling for knitted eyebrows.
“Man, I wish Rarity was still around.”
Eight for a wish, nine for a kiss.
“So all of these years, you’ve never found anyone else?” Sweetie Belle asks.
“No.”
“You’ve never stopped mourning her, for all this time?” Rainbow Dash’s concern is audible in her voice.
“I mean, I’ve come to terms with the fact that she’s gone.” I try to reassure her. “I just… never found that spark again with anyone else.”
Rainbow and Sweetie share a glance, before looking back at me.
“Were you… were you ever unhappy?” Sweetie asks.
“No! I mean, um… there were times when I would miss her, yes, but because of friends like you, I wasn’t lonely. I wasn’t lonely at all.”
Sweetie Belle walks closer, and hugs me without a word. Rainbow goes to the other side of the bed and does the same.
“But still, wouldn’t things have been much better, if Rarity was there with you all this time?” Rainbow blurts out after they both let me go.
“... Yes.” I nod. “But what happened happened, and I still lived a good life.”
Sweetie Belle leans in. Turning my head towards her, she kisses me on my forehead.
“I’m sorry.” I hear her whisper.
Ten for a life you cannot miss.