All The Little Rings

by Nines

Lingering Concerns

Days later. It was morning, and Rarity lay in bed, eyes wide but body still. The sheets swirled and rippled around her, the peaks holding the scant light while rich shadows pooled in the valleys of the fabric. She debated on getting up at all.

It seemed unnecessary amidst the vision of dust motes floating in the sunlight that filtered through the crack in her curtains.

She wished she could be so light and senseless.

Her mind tickled with the heavy harkenings of the day. Responsibilities. Obligations.

The world said, “Move,” so she did, rising with a shiver from the warmth of her bed. Before she knew it, her routine was underway. Her boutique sign flipped from CLOSED to OPEN.

The Rules of Rarity was her beacon through the workday. Always value the customer’s input. Consider their needs, spoken or not. Challenge every choice for their utmost satisfaction.

In her haze, she found it far more challenging to grasp onto that intuition that informed all the little decisions of her work. It all seemed to slip from her hooves, or to stick and become lodged in her mind. Every dress, every outfit was a careful step-by-step process that made use of a wide array of materials and techniques.

Which fabric to choose? What length to cut? Which stitch to use? Would happy-go-lucky bows complement the customer’s personality, or would they benefit from the dramatic presence of a shawl?

She worked hard but felt she fell short of her best, and her customers didn’t seem to notice.

It killed her.

All that passion I had… What was the point? No one can even tell the difference from this lesser faire to the grand work I did before.

A small sigh escaped. Almost a whimper, but her remnant dignity forbade. It’s as if everything I strived for was a silly illusion.

She was long overdue to put on another fashion show, but she felt a distinct lack of interest in getting the planning started. Shows were a necessary part of staying in the hearts and minds of the masses. She knew this. She just couldn’t seem to bring herself to care. The fight to stay relevant in the fashion world was exhausting enough, but it was an outright grind while in her current state of mind.

Hours came and went. Then...

Another day finished. Rarity forced a polite smile as she watched the last of her customers leave. As soon as they were gone, it vanished.

She heaved a sigh as she turned the OPEN sign to CLOSED. The magic flicked out from her horn, leaving the room all the darker for it. She stared at the sign, the buzz of white noise loud in her ears.

Sometimes, when she was alone, she’d pause, hoping that tears would come. Sometimes they did, and she’d feel a small relief. Usually, she was too empty for her eyes to even mist.

The numbness was threading the days together into an artless blob. The last she felt much of anything was when Twilight had visited. That had been three days ago.

When no tears came, Rarity started to turn away. Her bed was beckoning her to return and wallow. To let the familiar night and the oblivion of sleep claim her.

Then she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Her ear rotated backwards, and her head followed. She paused and turned her body around as a familiar face approached on the other side of the entrance.

Rarity’s eyes brightened and her magic fumbled to open the door. “Twilight?”

Twilight Sparkle was trotting up to her, a broad smile on her face, her long tresses lifting with the breeze. Levitating at her side was a basket. “Hello, Rarity!”

The unicorn stepped aside, blinking owlishly at her friend’s perkiness as the princess sailed past her. “Er, hello!” She shut the door and regarded the basket curiously. “May I ask what you’ve brought today?”

Twilight came to a stop in the middle of the boutique floor and set her basket down. She looked at Rarity and winked. “Art supplies!”

Well familiar with her dear friend’s enthusiasms, Rarity raised an eyebrow. “And what do you intend for us to do with these art supplies, Twilight Sparkle?”

“I was wondering if you’d make paper chains with me.”

Paper chains? Even Sweetie’s past that… “Ah. I see.”

She didn’t, really. But she had faith Twilight would make her intentions clear. Eventually. Even if Rarity didn’t comprehend the meaning, she was surprised to find she was quite glad Twilight was visiting again.

The thought of going to the castle herself had crossed her mind more than once these past few days, but always the intention was mired with misery. What would they do? What would she say?

Fortunately for her, Twilight lacked such qualms.

Twilight levitated a stack of colorful construction paper and two pairs of scissors from the basket. “Well?”

Rarity pursed her lips as she neared, but her horn glowed as her aura enveloped a sheet of blue paper off the top of the stack and a pair of scissors. “This is silly.” What she didn't say was that she was far more glad to be doing something silly with her dear friend than watching dust motes in her bedroom.

She just reserved the right to complain a little.

“Maybe. But sometimes it’s good to get in touch with our inner foal!” Twilight replied with an excited little shake.

Rarity’s eyes turned low as she feigned the lethargic detachment of Canterlot nobles and sighed: “I’m afraid my inner foal drowned. I’ve done a lot of crying on the inside, you see.”

Twilight giggled, her scissors halting partway through the red paper she was cutting. Rarity’s lips lifted into a little smile. The giggle held surprise, but also kindness.

How nice that she still gets my odd little jokes.

“I’m sure we can do something for that.” Twilight cut her paper into even strips. Her eyes flickered to Rarity. “Fluttershy’s still concerned you know. She says you’re still not eating.”

Ah, so I’d guessed right before.

Rarity’s lips puckered. “Well! Now I know who to thank for worrying you.”

Lifting her nose daintily, she glared at the paper chains. I’m not a stray cat, Fluttershy. “Honestly,” she huffed to Twilight, “she has enough on her plate than to concern herself with silly old me.”

Twilight raised a critical eyebrow. “She’s your friend. She only wants the best for you.”

“That’s what everyone says, darling.” Rarity sniffed as she cut her paper. “Then the next thing you know they’re spoon-feeding you stilted pleasantries whilst rifling through your cupboards looking for a suicide note.”

A small gasp. “Did Fluttershy really—?”

“Yes. Yesterday.” Rarity gave a small shake of her head. “I mentioned how the famous Prench dancer, Light Hooves, died.”

“And how did they die?”

The gruesome spectacle still had its macabre appeal. “A freak accident. You see, Light Hooves had a long slender neck and enjoyed wearing lengthy scarves.”

Rarity set a few cuttings aside neatly, then took up the next bunch as she told on. “One day, whilst riding in a carriage, her scarf blew back and got caught in the rear wheel axle. It snapped her neck. Death was instantaneous.”

Rarity couldn’t help it. She smirked. “This was alarming enough for dear Fluttershy, but my true mistake had been in wondering aloud if any of my scarves were long enough to do me the same favor.”

Twilight tutted, shooting Rarity a disapproving look. “That was impish of you.” But even as she said this, the unicorn could see the corners of her lips twitching.

Rarity sighed. “Yes, I know. I apologized. I just couldn’t bear her mothering anymore. Do you know she cleaned my home?”

“I’m sure it was pure torture,” Twilight said wryly.

Rarity arched an eyebrow. “She cleaned during business hours.”

Twilight winced. “Ah. I’m surprised she went so far!”

“I could certainly see the battle in her when she started, but when she discovered she could write her own name on my kitchen counter, her worry beat out her sense of propriety.”

Twilight sucked in air through her teeth, her eyes tensed with sympathy. “Yeah, I can see how that would be awkward.”

“Hmph! An understatement. Try dress-fitting a mare when someone is mopping the floor around you!” Rarity gave another little shake of her head, her mane’s curls shuddering with her displeasure. “The room simply reeked of ammonia...”

Twilight chuckled. “Oh, but what we’re doing is better?” She levitated glue from the basket and dabbed beads of it on the strips spread on the floor before her.

“Twilight, I was already skeptical of this activity, I needn’t hear your wry take on it. May I?” Rarity gestured at the glue bottle.

Twilight levitated it to her, and Rarity’s aura took hold of it. She dabbed her strips of paper with her own beads of glue.

Rarity paused when she realized Twilight was still gazing at her. “Yes?” she asked.

There was something in Twilight’s eyes, deep and suddenly almost as ancient as Luna’s. “I don’t suppose you’ve chosen a color for the silk?” Twilight’s tone was light but her voice was quiet.

Rarity averted her eyes, all at once breathless. “No. I haven’t.”

“Good.” There was a rustling as Twilight resumed her work. “To be perfectly honest, I only came up with this paper chain idea thirty minutes ago.”

Such a very Twilight thing to do, that.

“Well, points to you for your remarkable self-assurance.” A fierce attempt to rally her nerves that had perhaps shot too far in its sarcasm. Rarity’s eyes cut quick to her friend, wide in their worry that she’d offended or even hurt Twilight—only to be relieved at the sound of another charming giggle.

Thank heavens...

They began to interlink the paper strips, each creating a single long chain for themselves.

Twilight levitated another piece of paper to Rarity, making the unicorn groan.

“I am gathering that this is some kind of continuation of our last discussion, but I really must insist that you explain at least some of this to me. Why in Equestria are we making paper chains?”

“An object lesson.” Twilight had selected a green paper and was now cutting it. “I wanted you to see.”

“See what?”

“How our identities change and grow.”

Rarity sighed and set on cutting her new sheet. It was yellow. “Well, it’s nice to see my identity is color-coordinated.”

“It’s also not linear.” Twilight took the glue and began to dab her latest strips with it. “When we make paper chains, we tend to do them in a straight line, right? But what if…”

She stuck her tongue out in concentration as she linked a green strip through the middle of her red chain.

Hardly princess-dignified, darling.

Though, Rarity acknowledged Twilight’s unconscious habit had… a sweet appeal. She noted with a little blush how the shade of her friend’s pink tongue went so nicely with her pretty lavender fur.

“What if the chain did this instead?” Twilight held up her paper chains. They now made a T-shape.

Rarity’s lashes fluttered again. “I’d say your aim was off, dear.”

Twilight laughed, making Rarity smile again. Wider this time.

“Smart aleck!” Twilight chortled. “The point is that sometimes in life, we change!” She proceeded to add the other green strips.

“But you see…” With the last green strip, she looped it back to reconnect with the red chain, making a P-shape. “It all comes back together! The central part of who we are doesn’t vanish.”

She looked up to Rarity with a half-pleading smile. “Even if—” she removed one of the red links at the end and let it drop to the floor. “Certain aspects of ourselves fall away.”

Rarity hummed thoughtfully as she dabbed her latest strips with glue. “Like the importance I placed on fashion.” What a thought. Her life’s work, wafting away to the dust.

Twilight’s brow gained a small wrinkle and she shrugged. “Perhaps. But your love of fashion needn’t be removed from the chainmail of who you are. Maybe it just gets replaced with a new outlook?”

“And what outlook would that be, Twilight Sparkle?” Rarity connected the ends of her new chain to the ends of the old one, so that they made a circle. My vicious little loop.

Twilight scooted closer so that they were side by side. Rarity could feel her body heat on her flank. The alicorn trailed her hoof over the chain loop.

As usual, the tall mare was intense. “That you’re more than what you make. Your value is incalculable, Rarity. The possibilities of who you are and what you can do may as well be infinite.”

Twilight lifted the loop with her magic and twisted it, turning it into the infinity symbol. “You could become a musician, or a gardener, or even a martial arts teacher. You could—”

“Get sent to the moon, get possessed by shadow beings, and become your worst nightmare?”

Twilight snorted out a laugh, then bumped Rarity with her wing. “Or that! But I think we can both agree the odds of that happening are a bit slim.” She smiled warmly and leaned in to nuzzle the unicorn’s cheek. “What I’m trying to say is… it’s okay if you change. I still love you for who you are.”

Rarity felt a shiver course through her as Twilight murmured the words into her fur. The princess didn’t pull away, but lingered, her blunt bangs tickling as she turned her head and rested her cheek against Rarity’s neck.

That warmth… that blessed warmth was now spreading all over the unicorn, bringing to life places she thought had died. Carefully, oh so carefully, Rarity closed the last of the distance between them, their flanks and shoulders touching.

Gently, she placed a hoof under Twilight’s chin and guided her friend’s face up to hers. The alicorn’s breath tickled her muzzle.

Instinct sparked.

“Why, Twilight,” Rarity murmured, her eyes wide and searching. “I have a distinct feeling, you mean what you say.”

Twilight blinked, those cruelly long lashes fanning her cheeks. “Well, of course I do!”

Rarity shook her head. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears. “Darling, what I’m detecting lacks any platonic sentiment!”

Her eyes tensed as she watched Twilight’s eyes grow. “I’m spot on, aren’t I?” Given Twilight’s personality, alas, Rarity suspected the alicorn might be somewhat averse at the crux.

Twilight shook her head quickly. She started to pull away. “N-No, that’s not—”

“Twilight—”

Twilight waved her hooves in front of her, her hair swaying, her body practically quaking in her denial. “It’s not right, it’s not fair to you, Rarity.” She pressed her hooves to her temples and squeezed her eyes shut. “I thought I could— Urgh! This was a mistake. I’m sorry.” She was turning, wings floofed as she headed for the door.

Ethicists. Honestly.

Rarity’s body clenched. It was that morning three days ago all over again. Twilight was running, afraid because she’d thought she’d crossed some sort of boundary.

Spikes of ice stabbed Rarity’s heart, because that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

The unicorn’s horn ignited with her blue aura, and her telekinetic field wrapped about Twilight’s taut hips, holding them in place—

Twilight’s wings sprang wide with alarm. “Rarity—!”

Rarity sprang forth like a cat leaping after prey, her spirit ablaze as she skidded to a stop between her friend and the door. Her eyes were lit with determination.

“I won’t,” Rarity hissed. She shook her head fiercely, her curls swaying. “I won’t let you run off again!”

Twilight flinched. “Please, can’t we just forget it?” For the Princess of Friendship and the protege of the Princess of Love, Twilight Sparkle had certain impediments to reading others’ emotions.

“I cannot, Twilight Sparkle. Not when—” Rarity broke off, her eyes closing as she tried to center herself.

Feelings coursed through, hot and wild, awakening her body to sensations she’d been out of touch with for what felt like ages. She wanted to get this right. She needed to get this right.

Drawing on reserves of emotion that had not yet drained into the dregs of her days, Rarity focused herself. She took a breath and opened her eyes again. Slowly, quietly, she said, “I cannot forget. Not when your patience and empathy, and… love, has been the only thing to stir my sunken heart!”

“But that’s just it, Rarity,” Twilight slouched, pawing the floor and all but closing her wings over her eyes. “I didn’t want to take advantage of your depression. I… I only wanted to lift you up!”

Rarity stepped closer. “Oh, my darling, but you have!”

Her hooves dancing, Twilight turned her face away, ears pinned fast. “A good friend wouldn’t impose this on you now. It’s selfish.”

Rarity forced herself on, like a diva at her swan song. “It’s the truth. My only wish was that it had come out sooner!”

It will be my swan’s song— the last aria before what’s left of my heart dies— if I can’t shake us both out.

With an all-too familiar self-loathing, Twilight laughed, but it was low and harsh. She looked at Rarity with a slanted smile. “I’ve tried. But I could never seem to find that perfect moment.”

Rarity cocked a skeptical brow. “There is never a perfect moment.”

Twilight wheeled a hoof through the air, her features electrified with a persistent anxiety. “And then there was your obvious preference—!”

Rarity scoffed. “What preference?”

“Stallions, Rarity. Stallions.” Twilight practically beat a hoof on her chest, her eyes popping with distress. “Am I a stallion?” Her wings flared a little. “No!”

“Twilight—” Rarity had an abrupt moment of self-awareness, the stubbornness of her depression laid forth before her. In some ways, focusing on the agony of this moment with Twilight was a blessing.

She could not permit herself to lapse into self-recrimination.

Twilight shook her head and turned away. Her wings half-spread, the joints angled down as she started to pace. “I’ve ruined it.”

Rarity watched her friend with dismay.

I should have known… I should have realized she would react like this. Twilight Sparkle places faith in her careful plans, and when those go awry…

She truly believes hope is lost.

Dismay became ire. Ire, heat. Rarity’s brow furrowed and she drew herself up with a breath.

She’s decided this without even giving me the opportunity to reply. So like her to jump several steps ahead.

“I understand if you don’t want to see me for a while,” Twilight said, her eyes on the floor. She stopped her pacing and heaved a heavy sigh. Her head hung low, her silky purple tresses spilling over her shoulders.

At last, less than a whisper, barely more than a breath, the forlorn princess turned aside. “I just wanted to be there for you…” A gift of light as well as heat.

A way out. Determination she’d lost flared for one… last… time in the dark. I’ll just have to correct her, then.

Rarity closed the distance between them with sure steps. Twilight’s gaze snapped up, her wing feathers fluffing. “Rarity—?”

She was quieted with an assertive kiss. Some part of Rarity, the part that read romance novels… It was well and truly smug.

The rest—hopeful.

Twilight hummed with surprise, her wings flapping once, stirring their manes. Rarity’s eyes slipped closed, her fast heart heightening her senses. Twilight’s lips were soft—but dry.

The balm on Rarity’s lips would cure that soon enough. Twilight pulled away a little, gasping into her mouth, but Rarity pressed forward, insistent, catching her lips again. Now, it was Rarity’s turn to hunt in another’s shadow.

Don’t retreat from me. Please.

Rarity lifted a hoof, and with her pastern, tugged on Twilight’s foreleg. When the alicorn shifted close enough that their chests were touching, Rarity raised another hoof. Instincts guided it on, draping it just over the place where her friend’s wing sprouted.

She could feel Twilight’s wings flap once again, softer this time, before they enveloped her in a gentle, feathery touch. Rarity sighed as Twilight finally began to respond, her lips making small, cautious overtures at first before her movements grew in boldness. At last.

Rarity met this with equal gusto, her lower abdomen tightening as a warm and exultant feeling ballooned in her chest. They went on like this, till Rarity’s lips began to tingle, and her lungs burned. But it was such a burn as to be treasured.

So many days and nights feeling as though there wasn’t a thing left in the world that could make her smile, and now—

Twilight broke the kiss, panting. “Wait.”

Rarity shook her head, her mouth already trying to find Twilight’s again. “I don’t want to wait.”

Twilight pulled away with one massive step, her wings drawing back and pinching against her sides. “We need to! I need to!” Her eyes were massive in their pleading.

Rarity froze. The happy balloon in her started to deflate. She’d missed something. Something critical.

But what? Some thread of romance, some cut of caution? Twilight was clearly interested in her, and yet...

Twilight sat heavily, a sigh escaping her. “Rarity, I have to admit to you, my motivation in not telling you wasn’t just for you.”

This made the unicorn cock her head with a questioning look.

“The reason I kept my feelings a secret was because… because—!” Twilight huffed and pawed the floor once. “Because even if you did accept my advances, I wasn’t sure if you’d still feel the same way about me once your depression was gone!”

She sounded as though she had to force the words out.

Rarity’s eyebrows rose. “That’s what has you worried?” An ache settled in, just below her horn, begging to be rubbed.

Twilight’s lips puckered as a light blush entered her cheeks. “Yes!” She waved a hoof through the air. “It’s practically textbook not to try and start relationships with people in crisis!”

Rarity narrowed her eyes. “Why? Am I broken now?”

This made the alicorn stiffen. “What? No! That isn’t what I meant!”

“Then what in Equestria do you mean, Twilight Sparkle? Because I can assure you, everything I’m feeling at this moment is genuine!” Rarity choked on the last word, feeling her emotions surge. Indignation made her skin feel hot, but inside she felt the chill of despair.

Perhaps I am broken, and I’m only lying to us both.

Twilight closed her eyes with suffering. “I just… want to be sure.”

“Sure of what?”

The response was a whisper. “That you aren’t just using me.” Ice followed, like the wolf of winter, let in at the door.

Rarity flinched. Her eyes started to fill with tears and she looked away. “What a thing to say.” The words were wispy in their shock.

“I’m sorry.” Twilight’s ears drooped. “You’re right, I could have said that better.” She took a little step forward, her head craning to catch Rarity’s gaze again. “You know that I’m happy to support you, and it’s not that I think you have any malicious designs. What I’m really talking about is—”

“Suffering a short-lived relationship when you want something lasting,” Rarity said, tone clipped. Her eyes shot sideways at Twilight, stark in their frigid hurt. “Yes, I’d gathered that.” Do you honestly believe...

Twilight’s eyes tensed, her mouth thinning as she looked away. “If you thought about it for a moment, you’d see why I have these concerns. For all I know, what you’re feeling now is genuine…”

She shrunk back into herself, and Rarity heard the loneliness in Twilight’s voice, the fear borne of forethought. “But how long will that last? How deep does that desire actually go? I have to ask myself if I’m prepared for the possibility of you changing your mind when I’m not the thing making you feel better anymore.”

Rarity tried to keep her voice steady. “How can I prove to you that my feelings are not merely to save myself?”

How can I prove that for both of us?

Twilight looked down, her eyes narrowed in thought. Rarity felt a pang of longing. You were so worried you had ruined it between us… It would seem that blame lies with me.

And then, Twilight Sparkle reminded Rarity why she’d been so proud of her friend’s ascension. An academic’s dither might snare her, but she had what many scholars lacked. Decisiveness—rather attractively daring decisiveness, to hoof.

“Dinner. In one week.” Twilight drew herself up as she said the words, her ears suddenly perking with resolve.

Plan conceived and begun, Twilight abruptly charged forward, as she always did. “It’ll be a date. Private or public, your choice. I don’t want to out you if you aren’t—”

“Public is fine,” Rarity said, her eyes brightening. She dabbed at her eyes and hoped her makeup wasn’t running.

Hard to win over a heart when you looked like a drowned rat.

“I want you to know that I’m sincere,” she said next with a little toss of her hair.

Twilight frowned, prancing her forehooves. “Please don’t be too hasty with your choice. If you come out as liking mares, then change your mind later, it could be very inconvenient—”

Rarity scowled, her shoulders drawing back as her chin lifted up high. “Twilight Sparkle, if you are trying to safeguard my reputation, I assure you, the concern is misplaced!”

Her tail lashed as she looked away sharply with a hmph! “It is true that you would be the first mare I’ve ever expressed an interest in, but I hardly care what anypony else thinks!”

She turned her head back a quarter to look at Twilight again, her lips pursing. “Not when I care for you so much!”

The blush had returned to the alicorn’s cheeks. “W-Well, you’ll have plenty of time to face any second thoughts you may have—”

“I won’t have any second thoughts.” Rarity took a step toward her friend.

Oh, if they could just return to that happy release mere moments ago…!

Twilight moved away, her eyes averted. “We should take it easy till then. I… want to go slow, from now on.” Her voice sounded strained.

Rarity nodded, trying to hide her disappointment. “Yes, of course.” Show some decorum! We have to respect how she feels, nevermind that you’re acting like a love-starved fool.

Twilight started to sidle for the door. “I’ll send a note by dragon fire with details.”

“I shall await it with bated breath, darling.” Rarity chanced a smile. It felt brittle.

As fragile as her hopes.

Twilight paused at the door, her tail swishing behind her. She looked back. “I want this, you know. So badly.”

The pause returned, lingering as Twilight looked at everything in the shop but Rarity herself. “I’m just afraid if we rush into it, we could both get hurt.” Her words rushed out in a terrified whisper.

“Then I look forward to assuring you of my desires,” Rarity’s voice sounded breathless.

Twilight didn’t move, her eyes searching the unicorn’s face. Then without a word, she turned and left, the door chime ringing behind her. She seemed to take some essential quality of the light with her, leaving what remained stale as dead, unmoving air.

Rarity closed her eyes, her ears drooping.

One week. I must manage one more week. And then…

Then what? In what way could she truly convey to Twilight that she had every intention to make her happy? Her spirit burned with a need to give, to make her dear and precious friend feel cherished, to brighten her soul the same way she had brightened Rarity’s.

But laying between them was this damn gloom. Rarity felt her self-loathing bubble and froth. The contents of who she was, who she had been, and who she wanted to be were a tangled mess in her mind. She needed to sort it out.

Her eyes turned to the paper chains still on the floor.

I’m different. I know I am. But maybe I can make a return to who I was.

Her horn lit up as she picked up another sheet and a pair of scissors from the basket Twilight had left behind.

Even if I cannot manage a perfect restoration of that ‘Rarity’, then perhaps I can discover something close to her in spirit.

She began to cut strips. She tried to keep her mind clear. For the moment, her thoughts felt too overwhelming.

Time slipped by, and before she knew it, it had gotten dark out.

The stack of construction paper was gone, the basket now filled with strips. Her head ached and her horn buzzed from the continuous use of magic. Her body was sore from having not moved for what had apparently been hours. Rarity eyed her work, levitating one purple strip from the rest.

She felt… not numb. That alone was notable, but even as her heart stung with a more familiar kind of misery from depressions-past, something else was weaved in. Each time she thought she was close to naming it, the truth fled from her, like a frightened rabbit.

She soon gave up the chase. It would either come to her, or it wouldn’t. As she turned the purple strip over in her magic, she thought instead of what Twilight had tried to teach her.

‘The possibilities of who you are and what you can do may as well be infinite.’ Hmph. Rarity’s ears flattened, but not at the thought of Twilight. At the idea that she had any potential worth noting.

Her eyebrows rose. We could always put that to the test, I suppose. Twilight has a unique love of tests, does she not?

Rising to all hooves, she trotted to the rear of her boutique where her service counter was located. Once behind it, her eyes squinted as her magic moved aside order forms, receipts, and various office supplies. She brightened a little when she found a dark fountain pen.

Rarity sat as she uncapped the pen and set the purple strip on the counter. She thought for a moment, then wrote in flourishing cursive: Melodramatic.

She stared down at the word, watching as the ink dried at the points and corners where she’d let the pen tip linger.

Then the mysterious “something” that had eluded her before finally became clear.

Rarity was glad Twilight had stopped things.

She was glad she had a week before they saw each other again.

She was glad because she realized that her friend had been right. If Twilight had stayed, Rarity would have devoured Twilight’s love whole, and afterwards she still would’ve had her hooves out, begging for more. Rarity’s eyes clouded, and the tears that she had been waiting for hours ago flowed freely now, dripping onto the white countertop in fat drops.

She laid her head down and let the sobs come…

And still, she was glad.

Author's Note:

Comments

[Nines]

10121484
Thanks for your kind words! I definitely wanted to explore a melancholy linked to art and meaning, and Troublesome Beast really helped to elevate the language of that depression. His help and guidance brought out a lot of the romantic language.

10121746
I'm glad you think so! Believe me, I agonized over Twilight's approach to Rarity's depression. I reasoned that, even if it didn't always come across as perfect, I really wanted it to feel sincere and empathetic.

10122277
I'm both nervous and excited to release more! I hope you enjoy it.

Actually, I originally started this story for the RariTwi bomb that happened back in October, but ultimately I decided to hold off because I realized the concept couldn't be rushed.

10122528
Well hey, thanks for giving this a shot! Hopefully, you'll like what's to come.

[Ebonyknight1000]

More must occur.. It would be a disservice to your writing skills overwise... But seriously great job

[Nines]

10122575
Thank you so much! More is on the way very, very soon.

[Sunlight Rays]

“Get sent to the moon, get possessed by shadow beings, and become your worst nightmare?”

Hmm... I sense a comic reference coming... or is it just me?

Anyways, let the romance begin! This chapter was neatly written. I liked how both Twily and Rares want this badly, yet Twilight's holding back since she fears that they might end up getting hurt. I can relate to that, tbh.

[Azure Sandora]

Huh. You know, I gotta commend you for this story.

Rarity is my favorite character, and the one I relate to the most in the show. At the same time, about two years ago I had a depressive moment so bad that I contemplated actual suicide. At least to the point where I didn't see a reason to even live anymore. So what Rarity's going through here, I get.

Also, I'm happy you're not beating around the bush with the romance here. You're going all in with it. I was worried you'd wait till the end to have them express their feelings and have Twilight constantly deflecting her feelings, but no. They came out, and things went the way they would go realistically.

This story is very well done. A good depiction of depression, and done with a character who'd realistically GET depression.

[Ice Star]

Big fucking ouch. You have an incredibly gripping, gut-punching portrayal of depression here. I know that when I cycle over from melancholy to the number stages, I would rather just have the catharsis of crying and... moving on. Or just being able to cry so my friends would know I'm not feeling well. Stuff like that.