From The Rubble Of Your Love

My Diamonds Leave With You

“Time was passing like a hand waving from a train I wanted to be on.

I hope you never have to think about anything as much as I think about you.”

―Jonathan Safran Foer

In her forty-five years, Rarity had awakened to a knock at her door many times. She always rushed downstairs to greet whomever needed her, even as she was pulling the sleeping mask from her eyes and taming her mane in the seconds she was allotted. No matter how poorly she slept the night before, or how her joints ached as she descended the stairs, she still did her best to answer.

This morning, as soon as she opened the door, she wanted to slam it closed.

Shoving past the threshold, her visitor darted inside Carousel Boutique. She hovered in the air, her strong wings beating with intimidating ferocity. If she flapped any faster, she would create a formidable tornado.

After searching for an escape route—and finding none—Rarity finally said, “G-good morning, Rainbow Dash. T-to what do I owe the pleasure?”

The foul taste in her mouth had nothing to do with the absence of toothpaste and mouthwash. Nor was her slight hangover to blame, the nagging stench of wine creating a nausea that sent her stomach spasming.

“You kissed my wife.”

Dash’s words were a bitter wind clearing out Rarity’s morning haze.

“Oh, but of course,” a part of Rarity—the part that hated herself more than Dash did right now—wanted to reply. Even in her self-loathing, she knew better than to indulge it. She took a step back as Dash advanced, almost muzzle-to-muzzle with her now. “R-Rainbow Dash, I—I di—”

“Don’t even try to lie to me,” Dash spat. “AJ told me everything.”

As if that needed to be said. Rarity knew from the second it happened that her fate was sealed. She had slept—and gotten drunk—only to pass the time, to warp between then and now and rise to meet it.

Well, she had hoped she would be able to face this. Right now, cowering in the intensity of Dash’s glare, she was far from rising. She tried to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come, her tongue thick and cloying with lies, half-truths, and regret, so much regret.

While Dash seethed in mid-air, forelegs crossed over her chest, Rarity’s gaze swept over the foyer. Towering stacks of boxes were scattered in disarray. Dishes, decorations, photo albums, and, of course, mountains of clothing—suits, dresses, hats, scarves, everything they had made throughout their three years together—awaited her within. Yesterday, she had intended to start going through everything, but… then…

Then, Rarity had made the biggest mistake of her life.

“I think that’s everything.”

The key jingled as a familiar blue aura dropped it into her forehoof. Whereas his magic had always warmed her before, it chilled her to the bone now.

“Th-thank you.” She released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I will go through everything over the next couple weeks.”

“Take your time.” His words were calm, his thoughts collected as concisely as his things. Stacks of cardboard boxes littered the Boutique. So much brown dotting the swaths of color, like ink spilled all over the carpet.

“Thank you.” She looked down at the key in her forehoof before she set it aside. It landed with a tiny, foreboding thud.

As handsome and sophisticated as ever, he ran a forehoof through his coiffure before a little chuckle rumbled through his chest. “It’s the end of an era, isn’t it?” His mustache shook with the weight of his words. They ripped through her, each syllable a knife.

Of course he was so blasé about it. This was his third divorce.

The bile rising in her throat almost spilled over. “Yes—yes it is.”

He gave a low bow. “Well, I won’t take any more of your time.” A cheeky smile cut across his face. “You know how those taxi-ponies can be. Charging a bit a second if they can get away with it.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw the taxi driver glance at his watch. The taxi-carriage loomed outside her window, all garish yellow and clashing black-and-white checker patterns. If she had more time, she would have designed something a little less horrid to ferry him away.

Did he have to leave her in something so damned ugly?

Feeling his impatient eyes turn to her, she forced a chuckle. “Oh, of course, darling. Scoundrels, those drivers can be.” She harrumphed, tossing her mane with flair, like she did whenever they went to a restaurant and the chef forgot the balsamic, or they went to a play and intermission was only five minutes instead of fifteen, or when they went to a fashion show and the horde of paparazzi wouldn’t leave them be for just five minutes, darling, please, can’t you let me have a moment with my husband, we’ve been working so hard, and we are trying our best—no, it’s not a fight, he’s just—and we are only—

The shimmer of his magic yanked her back. “Very true.” The door was already open.

She trotted through quicksand to join his side. “Well, I won’t hold you any longer,” she… admitted. “Have a safe trip.”

With a nod, he closed the door. The noise echoed through her ears.

She looked around. There must have been at least three dozen boxes in here, if not more. And these were just the things that were mixed in with hers. The things that were specifically his had been taken days ago. The moving ponies were nicer than the impatient taxi driver. One even gave her a discerning nod as she watched them work. Had that stallion known?

By now, didn’t everypony?

At least there was no mail on Sundays. She couldn’t bear reading any more tabloid headlines. Nor was she particularly eager to start going through their possessions. Not without coffee, at least.

Sighing, she moved from the foyer to the kitchen. The jumbled thoughts granted her reprieve as she focused on grinding fresh beans, bringing a pot of water to boil, and marrying the two. Within a few minutes, she killed the heat and poured herself a steaming hot cup.

As she sat at the dining table, her thoughts turned not only to the boxes, but what awaited beyond today. Papers, headlines, questions. Telling the same story over and over. Inevitably hearing the same thing. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m here if you need anything.”

While she glowered at the voices in her head, an unexpected knock sounded at her door. When the knock continued, she reluctantly set her mug down and went to answer it.

Her magic revealed the sight of an old—well, not any older than her—friend.

“Mornin’, Rares.”

“Applejack,” Rarity said with the hint of a smile, “you didn’t have to come over.”

“But Ah did.” Applejack stepped inside, one of her forelegs hooked through a basket. “An’ Ah brought ya somethin’.”

After closing and locking the door, Rarity examined the basket in her aura. A selection of crisp autumn apples, fresh-baked apple fritters, and, last but not least, one very large apple pie greeted her.

Applejack raised a forehoof. “Ah know, Ah know, Ah shouldn’t have,” she said, stealing Rarity’s words from her lips. “But Ah figured you deserved some treats.”

“Oh…” Tears unbidden sprang to Rarity’s eyes. “You’re going to make me cry.”

“Aw, Ah’m sorry.” Applejack placed a forehoof to the scarf around her neck. It was a chivalrous gesture, akin to when she would remove her hat and lay it there. “Ah know ya didn’t want anypony comin’ over, but Ah just had to check on ya.” She pulled Rarity into a hug, which was graciously returned.

Rarity sniffled, burying her tears into Applejack’s shoulder. “Thank you, darling.”

When they pulled away, Applejack gave her a gentle smile and nod. “Ah know ya need some space. Ah’ll get outta yer mane fer now.”

Applejack turned to leave, stopped by a forehoof to her shoulder.

“Won’t you at least stay for coffee?” Rarity asked, fighting the trembling in her words.

Without hesitation, Applejack nodded.

They made their way to the kitchen table. Rarity set the basket of goodies on the counter, then fussed over Applejack’s coffee. The first time she had made Applejack coffee, she had put in far too much sugar and cream. Applejack drank it anyway. By now, Rarity was a master of making it just the way she liked it. This was evidenced by the satisfied grin on Applejack’s face as she took a deep draught.

“Thank ya kindly,” Applejack said in her trademark drawl, warm and comforting still.

“Have you had breakfast yet? This pie looks absolutely delicious.” The knife in her magic playfully waved about before diving in. The flaky crust crackled, releasing an aroma that made Rarity’s mouth water.

“Ah already had ma oats. You enjoy it.”

Rarity brought two forks and two plates to the table. “I insist you at least enjoy a few bites with me.”

“Well,” Applejack said, chuckling, “since you already cut it…”

The recipe was a time-tested tradition, apples browned in butter, cinnamon, and sugar before being poured into a precisely mixed crust and baked to perfection. Rarity had tried to copy the recipe before, but the result reminded her of Sweetie Belle’s cooking. “Ya forgot the secret ingredient, sugarcube,” Applejack had laughed, before taking a bite of the ruined pie anyway.

Rarity had a hunch that the secret ingredient was cloves, but when she had asked, Applejack had just answered, “Love,” and winked at her.

A joyous belch pulled Rarity from her thoughts.

Applejack hid a laugh. “‘Cuse me.”

Rarity rolled her eyes, then laughed back. “It is quite good.” The familiar taste evoked a contented sigh. “I remember the first time I had one of your pies.”

“Can’t believe it was so long ago.” Applejack smiled. “It’s like it was just yesterday when we had that sleepover at Twilight’s. ‘Member?”

“Oh, I remember how a certain somepony made me stand out in the rain.”

“An’ Ah remember how somepony made me wear a froo-froo princess outfit.”

Their mock offense made them laugh all over again.

They rehashed a long string of memories over second pieces of pie. When the group set off to Appleloosa in search of Applejack, and Rarity and Pinkie had to pump a rail cart all the way back from Dodge Junction. When they went to the Frozen North to free the lost Crystal Empire from the clutches of a tyrant. When they followed Rarity to Manehattan for her fashion show and saw Hinny Of The Hills. And when...

Soon, Rarity had to brew another pot of coffee.

“I don’t think it was really you who said those awful things to Starlight on that camping trip,” Rarity mused, stirring the last dregs in her mug. “I swear, there were copies of us out there or something.”

Applejack shook her head. “Well, wouldn’t surprise me, considerin’ what happened not too long after. Stranger things, an’ all that.”

Rarity grinned, wiggling her eyebrows. “Like you and Rainbow Dash.”

Even after five years of marriage, Applejack still blushed when teased this way. “W-well, would’ve been stranger if Ah said no.” She chuckled. “Especially after y’all helped her do it.”

Organizing a special Wonderbolts flight show, along with getting all of their friends to hold up signs spelling out, “Applejack, will you go out with me?” up in the air had been tricky enough. It was alleviated by the fact that even Pinkie Pie and Rarity had ways of flying—though Rarity had been more careful with her butterfly wings this time. Helping Dash with the proposal, on the other hoof…

“Yes…” Rarity let her words, and the memory, hang in the air. “I’m glad it worked out.”

Her words were true, but something about them stung on their way out. Like they dug at something lingering—something Rarity didn’t want to acknowledge.

If Applejack heard the lingering something in her voice, she didn’t show it. Instead, her eyes drifted down to the half-eaten pie, the old, rusty tin underneath visible.

“Aw, shucks. Ah didn’t even realize.”

“Hmm?”

Applejack pointed. “Ah used the pie tin you got me at the Rainbow Falls Traders Exchange.” She grinned sheepishly. “Normally, Ah wouldn’t mind ya keepin’ the tin, but could Ah have this one back when yer done with it?”

“Of course!” The memory of that day—which included, among other things, Fluttershy almost being traded into a rather odd form of indentured servitude—brought a warm smile to Rarity’s face. “I still have the barette you got me.”

Applejack smiled. “Yeah?”

Rarity nodded.

“Wow. We go way back, don’t we?”

Looking into Applejack’s shining emerald eyes, Rarity’s heart skipped a beat. A slow realization crested over her, drawing forth like a threatening stormcloud and passing over like a shadow.

Another memory played through her mind. Back when the renowned travel writer, Trenderhoof, had come to visit Ponyville, Rarity had been head over hooves for him. Unfortunately, he had eyes for nopony but Applejack. The comedy of errors that had followed, ending with Applejack and Rarity dressed as parodies of each other, was a laughable recollection.

What wasn’t as laughable was when Trenderhoof had Applejack almost backed into a corner, forcing her to nearly reveal one of her most private secrets. “Uh, look, yer a fine pony, but, uh, well, Ah'm, uh…”

And the only reason Rarity knew that, was…

“Um… Rare? You okay?”

The words were swelling in Rarity’s chest, borne of something she had not thought about in years. Truth be told, she hadn’t thought about it much at all after it happened.

On the morning that her divorce was officially final—as final as her ex-husband leaving her to sort through their things could be—she found herself thinking about it quite a bit. Her coffee was black, not even spiked by a single sugar cube, much less whiskey or vodka. No, Rarity was completely sober, completely in control of herself and her emotions.

… And her memories…

“Do you remember…” Rarity gripped her mug tightly. It gave off a tiny flicker of warmth. “When you asked me out on a date?”

“Uh…” Applejack tilted her head. “Yeah…?”

Rarity looked over to Applejack’s left forehoof as it lay on the table. Her fetlocks were unshorn as usual, fuzzy and wild like the rest of her coat and mane. Beneath that fetlock was a blue hoofband emblazoned with a rainbow lightning bolt striking from a cloud.

This was wrong. Simply talking about this was wrong. Rarity knew it. Her heart knew it too. For no other reason would it try to gallop out of her chest.

“I said no,” Rarity recalled, gaze tracing back up to Applejack’s widened eyes, “but not because I wanted to… But because I thought it was what was best.”

Somehow, Applejack managed to close her mouth. She didn’t seem able to make it do much more than that, staying silent as Rarity continued on.

“Because I thought... what if something went wrong?” Rarity swirled a teaspoon in her cup, watching her coffee twist into a black sea of cold bean juice. “What if things didn’t work out, and then something worse happened? What if we needed the Elements and couldn’t use them because our friendship was damaged? B-because we were damaged?”

“Rarity… Ah—Ah never thought—” Applejack cut off, seeming to consider something, before she started back up again. “Ah thought, when ya said no, that it was—”

“It wasn’t.”

Rarity stared straight at her, the magnitude of the morning pressing down from behind her eyes. She suddenly became more than aware of the gray in her mane, the wrinkles forming under Applejack’s eyes, and how those most important in her life had found and succeeded at love.

Pinkie Pie and Cheese Sandwich, Fluttershy and Discord, Spike and Ember… Twilight had Equestria, and that was love enough for her, but even Sweetie Belle had a fillyfriend…

And Applejack had…

Rarity rose from her seat. “If I had known—if I knew that—that y-you and her could—”

Applejack pulled her forehooves back as Rarity approached. “R-Rarity—”

Like a fever dream, Rarity saw, rather than experienced, herself move closer, closer, closer, her heart racing and mind reeling and head rolling with the force of something she had known and understood, but never fully realized, closing in on her.

No, it wasn’t her fault that he had left; it wasn’t her fault that her marriage had failed. She had done nothing wrong. She hadn’t failed. The fault was all in the stars. She had simply read them wrong, all those years ago, gambled and lost.

And now, in this moment, there was a chance to do things right, to make things better, to step right in and start again—

“Well?!”

Yesterday popped and disappeared, leaving Rarity in her robe and slippers, her muzzle burning red with shame.

Always a late riser, Rainbow Dash bore no sign of it now, not one hair in her mane out of place. The silver zipper on her flight jacket had been polished, reflecting the growing light of Twilight’s sun. She looked ready to take on the world.

“What do you have to say for yourself?!”

It was one kiss. One. Light, quick, desperate.

Applejack should’ve slapped her. Should’ve shoved her. Should’ve cursed her, vowing to never see her again.

Instead, she had merely broken free and muttered, “Ah gotta go.”

That had been it.

Well, not entirely. There had been Rarity saying over and over again, almost in a mantra, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” long after the door had slammed and she had collapsed into a ball on the floor. Long after she’d broken out a bottle of wine, drawn the curtains, and let herself drown.

“I’m sorry.” Those flaming, steely eyes tore through her. “I’m so sorry.” Each word spiked fresh waves of nausea. She held back the urge to vomit, determined not to indignify herself any further.

Not that it mattered. Fancy Pants may have been a gentlecolt to the end, but Rarity was no lady. A lady could resist her impulses.

A lady wasn’t a homewrecker.

At last, Dash alighted on the floor. “You’re damn right you’re sorry,” she said, jabbing a forehoof at Rarity’s chest. “If it was anypony else, this wouldn’t be a conversation.”

“I-I don’t blame you for that.” Rarity’s eyes fell to her hooves. “I have no excuse for what I did.” Tears fell to the carpet, mixing with the stain of merlot. “In fact, I wouldn’t blame you two if you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.” The stain blurred in her vision, becoming a river of red. “I—I-I’ll think of s-something to tell Twilight.”

Silence.

Rarity counted her breaths, trying to calm her thundering heartbeat. The Council of Friendship wouldn’t be a council without everypony, would it? It would be more like… a half-moon. The Half-Moon of Friendship. How pathetic. Maybe the fault didn’t lie with her stars after all. Maybe she had been right not to act on her feelings over twenty years ago.

Look where it had gotten her now.

Her ears flattened as Rainbow Dash stomped towards her.

Then, the heavy weight of a forehoof—this one bearing an orange hoofband with a jeweled trio of apples—laid across her shoulder. She startled, not from the force of it, but the care of its touch.

“Sit down. I’ll make some coffee.”

It was an order, no less stern than when she had commanded flights of wingsuited ponies through the skies. Rarity heeded it as much as any Wonderbolt, sitting down on her red chaise lounge. Something jingled as she tried to get comfortable. His keys. She tossed them behind the couch.

Cabinets opening, the stovetop simmering, and water boiling punctuated the silence. Rarity tried not to stare at the boxes. Anxiety rose within her, churning with the misery of everything else. Of everything in the past six months of her life.

Nopony told her how long it would take for everything to end. If it had been up to her, she would have had him do it in a minute. No, a heartbeat. Strike her down, make her suffer, but make it quick. Rip her heart out while it was still beating.

Maybe then she wouldn’t have been so habituated to feeling miserable. Maybe then she wouldn’t have been so damned stupid.

Rainbow Dash returned from the kitchen, two mugs balanced on her outstretched wings. Muttering a thanks, Rarity took one. The coffee was hot, burning the roof of her mouth when she drank it, but she deserved a little scalding.

Watching her, Dash blew across her cup before taking a long drink. Then, smacking her lips, she set it down on the table between them.

“Alright, spill it.”

“Wh-what?” Rarity’s aura pulsed, almost faltering.

Dash rolled her eyes. “Not the coffee, you dolt. You already need to steam clean your carpets anyway. Don’t act like I didn’t see the wine stain.”

With a shamefaced titter, Rarity set the cup down beside Dash’s. “R-right.”

Eyes narrowed, Dash’s gaze softened nonetheless. “What I mean is, tell me what’s going on.”

“Oh, well…” Rarity tugged at a tiny, errant thread on the couch. “Fancy and I, well, we’d been on the rocks for a while, but—”

“Not about your divorce. We know that already.”

Right. Almost a moon ago. The Council of Friendship went to Joe’s after their meeting, like they always did. This time, there hadn’t been enough doughnuts on Earth to cover up the bitterness in Rarity’s words, the harsh tastes of the truth interspersed with rainbow sprinkles and powdered sugar.

“Look, if you don’t start talking in the next five seconds, I’m walking out the door.” Rainbow Dash set her mug down harder than necessary. “For good.” From the look in her eyes, she was dead serious.

Heart pounding, Rarity swallowed her panic and took a deep, hitching breath. “Fine. You want the truth, Rainbow Dash? Here it is.” She steeled herself with more caffeine, which Dash thankfully permitted. “Fancy moved out yesterday, as you know. I was feeling… so very, very alone.” Rarity sighed. “I said I didn’t want anypony to come and help, because I knew I would be a wreck, and I was—”

“Until AJ showed up.”

“Yes, but…” Rarity fidgeted. “Not for the reason you think.”

Dash waited, saying nothing.

“I won’t lie to you,” Rarity said. “A long time ago, before you even asked Applejack on that first date, she asked me on one.” She paused, letting the words sink in, bracing for the impact they surely would leave.

To her surprise, Rainbow Dash shrugged. “And?”

Rarity blinked. “You knew about that?”

The facehoof that followed sounded audibly painful. “Rarity, Applejack is my wife. And she’s the embodiment of honesty, literally, on top of that. There are no secrets between us.” Groaning, Dash added, “Surely, you get that, having been married yourself.”

“Not everypony is as lucky as you have been,” Rarity said before she could stop herself, “to have a spouse with no secrets.”

Rainbow Dash raised her forehoof, as if to object, then lowered it. “Fair enough.” She paused. “Alright… So, AJ asked you out years ago. And? Have you been carrying a torch for her this whole time or something?” Venom edged back into her words, coiling like a snake.

Rarity dodged the strike. “No. Not really.”

“‘Not really’?” Rainbow Dash made air quotes with her longest feathers. “C’mon, Rarity, don’t piss on me and tell me it’s raining.”

Rarity scrunched her nose. “Eugh, Dash…”

“Well, fine! Don’t bullshit me, then.” Dash crossed her forelegs. “We’re both grown mares, and I’m not here to play games. Just tell me what exactly went through your head when you—”

“Nothing went through my head!” Rarity shouted. “That’s the problem! I wasn’t thinking!”

“You ‘weren’t thinking’?” Air quotes again. “So, when you don’t think, you just try and make a move towards my wife—”

Rarity jabbed a forehoof. “And my friend! Applejack is my dearest, most special—”

Wings unfurling, Dash jabbed back. “What kind of friend would—”

Rarity’s horn sparked. “The kind who buried her own feelings twenty years ago, for the good of Equestria, and, in a moment of vulnerability, when her husband—whom she never should have married, but all his red flags were so perfect and elegant she didn’t notice them—” she was breathing hard now— “leaves her, and her very best friend, the one who she once loved in a way she shouldn’t, reminds her of all those good times, and, without thinking, she just, for a second—” her aura grabbed his keys and flung them across the room, where they cracked against the door— “she makes the biggest mistake of her life, thinking she could just take it all back!”

Chest heaving, eyes afire with rain, Rarity knocked both of their mugs over, splashing coffee to mix with the wine stains, the boxes, and three years of a failed marriage. “Happy?!”

As she stared Rainbow Dash down, Rarity swore she saw one of Dash’s forelegs tremble, as if tempted to retaliate in the way she most deserved.

When the silence died down, so loud and buzzing in Rarity’s ears, Dash’s anger melted with it. Gritted teeth and unfurled wings relaxed to a deep frown and falling feathers, until Dash sighed—a long, resigned, uncomfortably empathetic noise.

Before she could reply, Rarity barked, “I don’t want your pity. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me any more than you already do.” Rarity grit her teeth, forcing her tears down. “I don’t need it.”

At last, Dash spoke. “Yes, you do.” She fluttered over to join Rarity on the couch.

Stiffening, Rarity faced away from her. “Leave.”

“Are you saying that because you don’t want to talk to me, or because you wish that I didn’t want to talk to you?”

“Both,” Rarity mumbled, more tears dotting the floor.

“Well... Unless you try and kiss me too, I’m not leaving.”

Dash offered her a half-chuckle, but Rarity was having none of it. She was almost tempted to do so, if only to give herself the ending she deserved. Alone, friendless, surrounded by nothing but old memories.

Rarity jumped when Rainbow Dash wrapped her forelegs around her. “Look,” Dash said with a sigh, “I’m not gonna lie to you, either. I was—and still kinda am—really pissed. My first reaction when AJ told me was to come crashing through your window, hooves up.”

“But you didn’t,” Rarity said mournfully, a part of her wishing that Dash did.

“But I didn’t. And AJ wouldn’t have let me back in the house if I did.”

That made Rarity pause. From the way Applejack had reacted, she thought she didn’t want anything to do with her. And rightfully so. Rarity had been a monster, a mare possessed by her own demons rather than any semblance of friendship or real love.

The possibility of Applejack forgiving that made Rarity feel undeserving of her own Element. Nopony had been that merciful to her in a long time.

“She was super freaked out, yeah, but, more than anything, she’s just worried about you. She thought the history you guys had was one-sided.” Dash tensed, but was still hugging her. “With what happened, she thinks she just made everything worse for you.”

Sighing, Rarity moved her forelegs up to meet Dash’s. “No, she didn't. She had good intentions, and I was feeling better, until…” Her tongue grew thick in her mouth. “Until I let some silly thoughts get the best of me.”

“What thoughts?”

The lack of judgment in Dash’s words surprised her, bringing her to carefully mull over a response.

“I was just thinking about how everypony I know is married, or, at least, on their way to it. While I’m the only one going the opposite direction. And I thought, so stupidly, that maybe I had made the wrong choice all those years ago. That if I had said yes to Applejack, that maybe…” Rarity shook her head. “It’s a ludicrous notion. I really am happy that you two are happy. I’m just so unhappy that I’m not, and I thought it was something I cursed myself with.”

Dash scoffed. “Do you really think that just because it didn’t work out with Fancy that it won’t work out with anypony?”

Rarity spat a bitter laugh. “Stupid, isn’t it?”

“Uh, duh.” As Rainbow Dash untangled her forelegs from her, her old friend looked at her with a growing smile. “I mean, just look at you, Rarity. Yeah, you have that one streak of gray—” she ran a forehoof through Rarity’s mane— “but other than that, you’re still the same Rarity that has stallions falling all over themselves trying to get to her. And mares too, I bet, now that I know you’re into that,” she added, laughing.

Rarity laughed uneasily in turn. “W-well, I’ve never not been. It’s just never come up.”

“Huh. Well, anyway,” Dash replied, unfazed, “point is, you’re still you. I know it might not feel that way, but not everypony is like Fancy. Your Mister Right—or Miss, whatever—is still out there.” She brought a forehoof to her mouth in a conspiratorial grin. “Wanna know a secret?”

When Rarity nodded, Dash said, “I waited a long time to ask AJ out. I wasn’t exactly, uh, forthcoming with you guys when I had you all help me.” She rubbed at her nape. “I... kinda had a thing for her when Twilight first came to Ponyville. I never said anything though. I didn’t think we’d work out.”

Rarity mused, “You two always seemed to butt heads back then.”

Dash nodded. “Just like you did with her.”

They shared an understanding smile.

“Anyway, when all of our other friends started finding their special someponies, I was pretty jealous. I went on a lot of dates, trying to find that same spark.” Dash chuckled. “I was so happy when AJ said yes, not only because, well, duh, but because I was tired of playing the field.”

“I can understand that.”

Dash nodded. “Right. But here’s the thing. If she had said no, or it didn’t work out, I would still be back out there.” She flashed a confident grin. “There’s no winning in a game that you aren’t playing.”

“Well, yes, that’s true. But getting back out there—” Rarity drifted back to both the boxes and the stains— “is much easier when you just have a broken heart. Not a broken marriage.”

Immediately, Dash’s smile fell. “You’re right.” She sighed. “Sorry. I don’t mean to make it sound easy. What I mean is—”

“T-to never give up. Yeah, I know.” Rarity wiped at her eyes. “That’s kind of your thing.”

“Heh, yeah…” Dash wrapped a foreleg around Rarity’s shoulders. Silence lingered for a few moments before she added, tone falling near a whisper, “You know... you don’t have to go through this stuff all alone.”

Automatically, Rarity replied, “I know.”

“Do you? Because other than you breaking the news at Joe’s, you haven’t talked about it much. Which is a very un-Rarity thing to do.” Dash cracked a slight smile, but Rarity lacked the will to return it.

Instead, Rarity sighed. “I don’t want to burden anypony with this.”

Something flashed in Dash’s eyes. “Burden? Who told you your feelings were a burden?”

The quick intensity of her words made their years seem few and farther between. While there were flecks of gray on her cyan coat, Dash was as protective as ever—even towards somepony that had wronged her.

“Nopony did. I—I just couldn’t bear to put this on you, or Applejack, or anypony else.”

Though she facehoofed again, there was less violence in it. “Rarity, we’re your friends. I know a lot of things have changed, but that hasn’t.” A warm smile melted away the irritation on Dash’s features. “We might not be able to relate exactly to what you’re going through, but…” She trailed off, eyes glazed over in the faraway distance.

After a moment, Rarity cleared her throat. “Er… Dash?”

Rubbing at her chin, Dash gradually met her gaze once more. “You know… I think I know of a way we could kill two birds with one stone.”

Rarity balked. “Dash! Language!”

“Oops, sorry.” Dash chuckled. “Fluttershy would be mad if she didn’t hear me use her, heh, improvement to that phrase.” Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, she corrected, “I mean, we could feed two birds with one scone.”

“Oh?” Rarity raised an eyebrow. “And what do you mean by that?”

Dappled sunlight shone through the northern orchard. The light followed as she moved from tree to tree, placing baskets and filling them with a masterful ease. Her hooves weren’t as quick as they used to be, but they were strong still, hindhooves crashing like iron against the great trunks. Branches of apples yielded to her might, the fruit coming tumbling down in a steady rhythm.

Pausing for breath, Applejack wiped the sweat from her brow. She scanned the skies, searching for one spot of color amongst the horizon. By the position of the sun, she estimated that almost two hours had passed since Dash had rocketed towards Carousel Boutique.

Applejack felt her jaw clench. If Dash broke her promise and made things worse somehow, she would have to be the fastest pony alive to escape her wrath…

When her sky-search proved fruitless, Applejack sighed and turned back around. To her trees, her thoughts, and—

“Gah!” Nearly falling over, Applejack pressed a forehoof to her chest. “Don’t do that!”

“Heh, sorry, AJ.” Dash chortled. “Couldn’t help it.”

Heaving a breath, Applejack muttered, “Ah swear, if ya keep sneakin’ up on me like that, yer gonna give me a damn heart attack.”

“Must you keep pranking your wife, Rainbow Dash?”

Applejack froze.

From behind the tree where Dash had jumped out, Rarity trotted into view. She stood beside Dash, her eyes shining in the early morning sun. Little black dots were sprinkled below her eyes—remnants of mascara she had washed away. Despite that, she appeared as graceful as in her youth, mane billowing in the breeze. No amount of gray could mar that.

“R-Rarity,” Applejack said.

“Applejack,” Rarity said back.

Rainbow Dash looked between them. “So, I know what you’re thinking, AJ… And I think everything’s gonna be okay.”

Applejack blinked. “Really? Y’all sure?”

Meeting her eyes, Rarity gave a slow nod. “As okay as I can be right now.”

Though she smiled, Applejack’s eyes welled with tears. “Ah’m so sorry, sugarcube. Not just ‘bout Fancy, but... well…”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Rarity laid a forehoof on her shoulder, fighting the grief springing from her own heart. “I’m the one who needs to. I—I’m so sorry, Applejack. I know you were just trying to help. And I—” she seized a breath—“I was just being silly. There’s—there’s nothing for you to be sorry for. Ever. And… I’ll be okay. In t-time,” she finished, the world becoming a blur once more.

Just hold me, she wanted to say. To both of them. To everypony. To Equestria itself. Hold me, until this all is over. Until the waves become ripples, and I can rise on muscles and legs and hooves I trust again.

Until I can rise from him, and this, and everything.

Whether it was Discord playing a trick from his dimension beyond the veil, an ancient magic that outshone both Celestia and Luna, or something else entirely, Rarity’s friends were blessed with spontaneous telepathy. Without another word, they both pulled her into their embrace.

As the waves crested, washing over her, Rarity let herself sob, surrendering at last to the coming storm.

She had cried so many tears over him, over everything, that she had hoped they wouldn’t spill over now. Like eating breakfast before she went to the market—preparing herself to whet her appetite for foolhardy decisions. Yet, even with Dash’s words, Applejack’s forgiveness, and the friendship and love between them all, Rarity needed to cry.

They let her.

How much time passed, Rarity didn’t know. All she knew when she finally pulled away was that she would not only be okay, but would survive. The boxes, the stains, the keys she’d left on the floor. She would survive it all.

Survive. The thought echoed heavily in her mind, one word bearing so much that it felt almost impossible to move past it. But she had to. The only way out of these woods was through.

“Ah think Ah know somepony you should talk to, Rarity. Somepony who might understand how ya feel.”

As Dash’s eyes met Applejack’s, Rarity asked, dabbing at her face with a handkerchief, “I-is this the—” she snickered— “‘scone,’ you mentioned?”

“‘Scone’?” Applejack looked over at her wife. “What’s she talkin’ ‘bout?”

With a chuckle, Dash waved a forehoof. “Eh, just Fluttershy’s new phrase. You know, how she’s trying to make language less ‘species-ette,’ or whatever.” She turned to Rarity. “But yeah, this is one of the things I had in mind.” With that, she nodded to Applejack.

“Ma cousin Apple Split’s gettin’ divorced soon. Turns out things with him an’ his husband weren’t workin’ so well.” Applejack frowned. “He lives out west in Tall Tale, by the sea. It’s a bit far fer a visit, but Ah figured y’all could write to each other. Ah’ve been wantin’ to help him, but things are easier when ya can talk to somepony who can relate to what yer goin’ through, y’know?”

The slightest of grins curled at Rarity’s muzzle. “Applejack, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to set me up with him.”

While Dash burst into laughter, Applejack raised both forehooves. “N-no! That’s not—ugh, shuddup, Dash—” Dash howled with a fresh round of laughs— “he’s gay anyway. Ah’m just tryin’ to—”

“Oh, I know, I know.” Rarity laughed of her own accord, although Rainbow Dash was making it easier. It felt nice to laugh. “I met him back when I helped set up your last Apple Family Reunion, remember?”

After a moment, Applejack nodded. “Oh yeah, that’s right. Sorry, there were almost a hundred Apples here last time.” With an embarrassed grin, she added, “Got a bit carried away tryin’ to keep track o’ who’s who an’ what’s what, heh.”

“Not a problem, darling.” Rarity smiled, almost feeling witty. “I’m just teasing you. But anyway, yes, I’d love to write to him. I think that would be helpful for both of us.” She looked over to Dash, who was holding her ribs now. “I’d love to know what the second, er, part of the scone is, once Dash is done over there.”

Wiping at her eyes with her feathers, Dash shakily stood beside Applejack. She threw a foreleg around her wife, who cast an unamused glare her way. “S-s-sorry, just—Apple Split—into mares—hah!”

“Hardy har har,” Applejack mumbled, though her slight smile betrayed her annoyance.

Once she’d taken a few final, calming breaths, Dash turned back to Rarity. “I think it would be the second ‘bird,’ but you’re gonna have to ask Fluttershy about that. Well, anyway…” She looked to Applejack, who prompted her with a forehoof. “I know it’s kinda weird, considering the occasion, but Pinkie and Cheese were planning on throwing you a party—”

“—Which we told ‘em wasn’t the brightest idea right now—”

“—Even though Starlight was gonna bring a ton of empathy cocoa—”

“—But, ya know Pinkie Pie, she’s not gonna take no fer an answer—”

“—But we managed to convince her to do something a little less—”

“—Over the top instead, so, once yer ready—”

“—Why don’t we all go on a friendship retreat, in your honor—”

“—Fer old times’ sake?”

Looking from one old friend to the other, something bloomed in Rarity’s chest once more. While it was welcome this time, it stole her breath nonetheless, as her gaze swept between them in incredulous awe.

“No pressure, sugarcube,” Applejack added.

“Yeah!” Dash chimed in. “Whenever you’re ready. It’s gonna take some planning to get Twilight and Spike to come anyhow.”

It had been so long. Not only since a friendship retreat, or any significant time at all with her friends, but since Rarity had just… been. Even their council meetings had been a chore in a way, struggling to keep focused on anything else but... that. Fighting, above everything else, to stay sane. Everything that had transpired the last six months had been a whirlwind.

There had been no time to breathe, much less have fun. The fact that Dash and Applejack had been planning this, and still insisted on it, reminded her of the depth and power of their bond.

That hadn’t been left to the stars.

Much older, but not that much wiser, Rarity still needed a reminder.

Finally, with tears of joy, Rarity said, “I-I think that sounds like a great idea. It’ll be nice to really spend time with you all, and t-to—to just do something easy for a change.”

Looking between her friends—two of her dearest, most special friends in all of Equestria—Rarity added, barely above a whisper, “Thank you. Thank you both.”

This next hug was brief, but just as powerful.

As they pulled away, Rarity took a step back. Rainbow Dash hovered above Applejack, a forehoof both lovingly and protectively resting on her mane. Applejack, wearing her grandmother’s scarf, peered up at Rainbow Dash from the corner of her eye with a breathtakingly genuine love.

The two basked in the autumn light, amongst the orchards where they had first met, first become a couple, become engaged, married. Where they had become aunts, playing with their nephew as he started, and continued, to grow. Where they would live and work and love and be.

Standing across from them, Rarity may not have shared their roots, but hers were tangled with theirs all the same. They were different fruits on different branches—but connected to the same soil. In time, she would form her own orchard, in the same way that they had.

Just as Rarity had helped Dash those five years ago, Dash had helped her today. Mistakes or not, regrets aside, Applejack had as well. And these were the days and years that counted the most.

“Somethin’ on yer mind, sugarcube?” Applejack asked gently, bringing her back to Earth, like she always did.

Rainbow Dash—the wind beneath her wings, in ways she would never know—said, “We’re here for you, no matter what. Just say the word.”

Rarity savored the peace between them, and within her, for just one second longer. Then, she asked, “Do you think you two could come by sometime soon… and help with the boxes?”

Her two best friends shared a smile, before one said, “Ah thought you’d never ask.”

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