Red Strings, White Chains

by Undome Tinwe

Legacies

Turquoise magic swirled around the quill as it was lifted into the air.

"When was the last time you had to act as witness to a signature?" Rarity asked conversationally, trying not to think too hard about the document in front of her. "I can't imagine you get requested to do so very often."

"I believe it was at Shining and Cadance's wedding, coincidentally enough," Celestia replied. "Had Twilight not intervened during the first ceremony, it would have been quite awkward to explain that I had borne false witness and failed to confirm the identities of the signatories." Rarity could feel her fiancée's eyes on her as she spoke, but couldn't bring herself to look up.

The quill didn't tremble as she dipped it into the inkwell. "Well, if you wish to verify that I am indeed your beloved, I would be more than happy to recount your most embarrassing moments."

"I don't think that will be necessary." Their voices were light and teasing and sounded false to both of them.

A drop of ink splattered onto the table as Rarity let the quill hover above the document. "Wonderful, then we can proceed."

The quill didn't move.

"Rarity," Celestia said, and the concern in her voice galled Rarity.

"I'm fine," Rarity replied, a little more shortly than she intended. She forced a smile on her face, and hoped it didn't look like a rictus grin. "It's all done, anyways. This is merely a formality."

"You don't have to do this." The kindness in Celestia's voice was grating, even though it was sincere. "We can find some other way to—"

"No!" Rarity snapped. "Don't." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but we already decided this is for the best. A consort of a princess cannot engage in trade without introducing far too many conflicts of interest. There's no point in second-guessing myself now."

She channeled the last of her angry energy into action, pressing down on the paper harder than necessary but still signing her name on the contract. "It's done. Carousel Boutique now belongs entirely to Coco Pommel and Sassy Saddles."

Amazingly, she managed to hold herself together as she floated the contract over to Celestia to sign as the witness. Without any fanfare, Celestia took the quill from Rarity and filled in her own signature with a perfunctory swish.

And that was that.

The document was placed back on Celestia's writing desk, and Rarity couldn't drag her attention away from it. It seemed wrong for something so mundane-looking to have had such a devastating effect on her, a defiance of all conventions and respect for dramatic flair which offended Rarity's sensibilities.

A warm hoof touched her shoulder. "I'm sorry," she heard Celestia say.

"It's quite alright," Rarity replied, feeling tears begin to well in her eyes. "It had to be done. This is a small price to pay for a lifetime of h-happiness with y-you." She almost made it to the end before her heart finally broke and she collapsed against Celestia.

Soft feathers surrounded her as Celestia enveloped her with her wings, nuzzling the top of her head as Rarity cried freely. "It is no small price, my love. I know how much Carousel meant to you, and there is no shame in mourning your loss."

"T-Thank you," Rarity sobbed out, pressing herself deeper into her lover's embrace.

There were a great many reasons why Rarity loved Celestia with all her heart. Right now, all that mattered, though, was that her other half knew the value of silent comfort, knew how to ease Rarity's soul even as she gave her an outlet to indulge in her sorrow. It hurt to cry, to allow herself to feel the full extent of her grief, but both of them knew that Rarity would be stronger for it afterwards.

And so, for the next few minutes, Rarity cried and cried and cried as Celestia softly stroked her mane and said nothing, which was exactly what Rarity needed. Her warmth and divine presence anchored Rarity, and reminded her of what she had made this sacrifice for.

Eventually, the pain began to subside, and Rarity carefully pulled away from Celestia, already regretting the separation. "If you'll excuse me, I need to use the powder room," she said, a hollow calmness in her voice. "I must look frightful right now."

Celestia rolled her eyes playfully. "You are beautiful as always, Rarity. But if there is something I can get you, only say the word."

Rarity shook her head. "If you could stay with me for a while longer, please. I need to remind myself of why I made the decision to sell Carousel."

"Very well." Celestia shifted over towards her again, lightly pressing their bodies together.

"It's not all bad," Rarity said, putting on a brave smile. "At least I won't ever have to worry about dealing with quarrelsome clients ever again. Though, I'm sure that dealing with the politics of Canterlot will have me wishing for those halcyon days soon enough."

That got a soft chuckle from Celestia. "Still, you can live every artist's dream of creating beauty unfettered by the demands of others or trifles such as market research."

"That is quite the silver lining," Rarity admitted.

"I've found that life is often a sequence of finding silver linings in a sea of clouds."

"When I was a filly, I believed that a princess such as yourself could burn away all the clouds in her life." A wistful sigh slipped from between Rarity's lips. "Oh, to be young and foolish and foolishly in love again."

"Well, at least you still have that last one," Celestia quipped.

"I suppose I do. Only the type of romantic fool found in stories would give up their life's work for love." The bitterness in Rarity's voice made them both wince.

Celestia's reaction was immediate, her wing once again softly stroking Rarity's back. "I truly am sorry," she said. "If there was any other way..."

"We consulted with so many ponies," Rarity replied firmly. "Even Twilight agreed that I couldn't be allowed to continue selling dresses, and turning it into a charitable organization would still present a conflict of interest when it came to funding."

"I will do everything I can to ensure you do not regret this decision," Celestia promised.

"I know." Rarity smiled, and this time, it was a little more genuine. "There is no doubt in my mind that you will make me the happiest mare in the world."

At that, they lapsed back into calm silence. Both of them had so much to do, so many duties that didn't care if a little slice of Rarity's world was ending, but they were going to steal this moment for themselves regardless, to mourn.

Finally, Rarity spoke. "Do you ever think about your legacy?" she asked, feeling a little silly at the question, considering whom she was asking it to.

To her credit, Celestia seemed to take the question seriously, waiting a moment before giving her answer. "I do not believe so," she said. "Not as mortals do, at least. While everything ends eventually, it is impossible for me to predict what the world will be like when my time comes to move on, and thus, impossible to think about how I might be remembered."

Her eyes glittered with distance, and Rarity recognized the look as one Celestia wore when lost in the past. "And yet, I have struggled with how the decisions of my distant past have been remembered. In a way, my actions have their own legacies, and some still fill me with shame to dwell on, especially when I am praised for them. Take the Summer Sun Celebration, for example. Imagine a celebration of your greatest failure, lauded as a victory as ponies parade you about the city in remembrance of when you struck down your own sister."

She shook her head, and her gaze fell on Rarity once again. "I've found it better to consider the consequences of my actions rather than their memory. Doing good is far more important than being remembered for doing good."

Rarity smirked. "Unfortunately, not all of us can be so selfless. Us mortals have a pesky habit of desiring some little bit of immortality through being remembered." Her chest constricted once again. "That was what Carousel Boutique was supposed to be; something to put in the history books, to remember me by forever. But now, I can hardly in good conscience use my influence to ensure my own designs gain eternal fame."

"I have no doubts that you will find some other way to leave your mark on history," Celestia replied, leaning over to press a soft kiss against her shoulder.

"If nothing else, I will at least be remembered as the mare who won your heart," Rarity quipped. "It's not the way I wanted to be remembered, but I can't deny that it's an achievement unlike anything the world has seen before."

"'Conqueror of the Unconquered Sun' is quite the epithet to be remembered by," Celestia agreed. "As is 'Element of Generosity'."

"There is that, I suppose." Rarity turned her head to nuzzle Celestia, uncaring that she was staining her beloved's fur with her tears. "I love you," she whispered, because she did, and that was what made her sacrifice worth it, in the end.

"I love you too," Celestia replied, before they lapsed into silence again.

Some time later, Rarity glanced up at the clock and winced. "Oh dear, I believe your meeting with the Zebrican ambassador begins in ten minutes."

Celestia sighed. "I cannot afford to cancel that one, not when we're so close to finalizing our trade agreement." She shot a concerned glance at Rarity. "Will you be okay here, my love?"

Rarity nodded. "I have plenty of work to keep myself occupied. The charity auction next week is expecting a pair of dresses from me by tomorrow, and I still have to make some final adjustments before sending them over. There's also Twilight's weekly status report on the wedding preparations to review, and a dozen other administrative matters I must attend to."

"Very well, then." Celestia leaned down, and they shared a brief but passionate kiss. "Until tonight, dear."

"I'll see you soon, darling." With that, Rarity was left alone in the bedroom. She took a few moments to blink away some more tears before making her way over to the powder room to clean herself up. She had much to do today, and there would be time enough to process the rest of her feelings later.

For now, she had a legacy to earn, one way or another.

Comments

[SigmasonicX]

I hadn't considered that Rarity would have to divest from her stores. Even if they took a more Cheeto-faced view of this, Rarity still couldn't run her business in the same way, with the same assurance that her business comes from appreciation of her designs and not from her connections. It was pretty heartbreaking to see Rarity's reaction, but it was really nice seeing Celestia there to comfort her.

And of course, there's no doubt that Rarity will leave a legacy of her own... besides the things she'll already be in the history book for.