The Architect's Wings

by mushroompone

Chapter Two

Rarity was awoken in the dark and early hours of the morning by a dreadful buzzing sound on her side table.

This was notably not her usual morning alarm (a gentle, lilting chorus of strings and piano), and certainly not her usual morning time (when the sun was up, preferably). As much as Rarity had enjoyed beating the morning rush back on Equus, there was no morning rush here on Aurora. There was also no early-morning birdsong, no crickets chirping, no rustling of the leaves in the dew-laden breeze… only an endless stillness.

In short, it creeped her out, and she preferred to sleep through it.

Rarity moaned softly into her pillow and burrowed deeper, searching for a pocket of quiet away from the noise. Sadly, her televox kept on buzzing, rhythmic and punctuated in the endless quiet of night on an empty planet.

A long pause.

Rarity sighed happily. Whoever it was had given up.

No sooner had the thought passed through her mind than the buzzing began again.

Now more angry than anything, Rarity used her magic to snatch her vox and tug it under the covers with her.

She made a small sound of disgust as took the call and murmured “hello?”

“Still sleeping?”

Rarity recognized the voice in just those two words, and shot into an upright position. “Spitfire! Sorry, I was—”

Spitfire chuckled. “It’s fine! You’re not a cadet, you’re an academic, for cryin’ out loud,” she said. “I was just calling to let you know that I’ve set up a meeting for you with a pony who’s very interested in your proposal.”

Very interested.

In her proposal.

Rarity did her best to remain nonchalant. “Oh?”

“I put it in your calendar, okay?” Spitfire continued. “I just wanted to let you know that she’s a little… esoteric might be a nice word for it.”

Rarity blinked. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You don’t know what esoteric means?”

“No, I know what—”

“She’s an odd duck, okay?” Spitfire said. “Not an unkind or unintelligent one, but an odd one for sure. I just want you to hear, from me, that she’s extremely well-respected in this field, and that her little weirdnesses are the only price you pay for her being so brilliant.”

“Um…” Rarity ran a hoof over her mane. “A-alright. If you say so.”

“You’re meeting her on Meadowbrook,” Spitfire continued. “I hailed you an autocarriage—my treat. You’ve got another few hours of beauty sleep, then it’s up and at ‘em. Good luck!”

“But I—”

Spitfire hung up in her ear.

Rarity grimaced, allowing herself to sink blissfully back into her pillows for just a moment, before scrolling to her calendar and peering at the meeting invite:

T.S. and R. - Asteroid Proposal

“Succinct as always, Spits,” Rarity muttered.

Any hope of going back to sleep lost, Rarity dug herself out of her mountain of blankets and stretched. Her gaze drifted from the stark blankness of her temporary dorm to the wide window on her right. This window looked out not on the city, but on the similar stark blankness of a temporarily empty planet.

There was a special sort of loneliness to be had in a place like this. Though she knew Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash were only a few doors down, it was hard not to look out at the endless barren rocks, all the way to the horizon, and feel the least bit alone. It was hard not to feel isolated by the automated drink carts, the empty storefronts, the quiet streets—even at rush hour. The whole of the planet’s inhabitants could fit in a single lecture hall, and yet they spread themselves out, as if relishing the space they had.

To be fair, Rarity did relish the space. But she missed the random encounters. She missed strangers.

It was only then that Rarity realized she would, for the first time in years, be meeting a complete stranger. Someone who didn’t know the first thing about her outside of her work, someone who was a little odd, someone who was totally and absolutely new.

Her heart fluttered.

The suns began to rise, and golden shafts of light exploded from the horizon.

She relaxed, falling halfway back into her pillows and settling in to watch a beautiful twilight.

---

The ride in the autocarriage was long and predictably quiet. Rarity was not a fan of these little driverless buggies—they always botched the landing, and she had more than once ended up with a coffee-stained chest due to the suddenness of their impact.

Still, there was a tiny window through which she could watch the universe go by. That was rather nice.

Rarity did her best to remain calm. She spent the hours-long ride repeatedly reminding herself that this scholar liked her work, and wasn’t meeting with her merely to pick it apart and criticize it. Academia had a way of making one defensive.

When being nebulously stressed lost its charm, Rarity pivoted to reading a book she’d downloaded to her televox, daring to read for pleasure for the first time since she had begun her final proposal. The reading, however, quickly put her to sleep.

Rarity awoke when the autocarriage made its predictably tumultuous landing on the lunar surface, nearly throwing her from her seat. She briefly wondered if the acute shock and terror was better or worse than hot coffee splashed into the white fur on her chest.

The autocarriage chimed its successful arrival, and its doors peeled back to reveal Meadowbrook port.

To say that Meadowbrook port was popular would be a bit like saying hay was popular. Or water. Or air. It was only a common rest stop out of sheer necessity—a moon located a convenient distance between Equus and everything else. It had a few basic necessities, including a fuel station, a hotel, and a few places to eat, but it wasn’t going to be anyone’s first choice for a vacation any time soon.

Rarity stepped out onto the barren soil and took a moment to judge the gravity. It had been a good few years since she stopped by on a moon like this, and the low gravity always threw her for a loop. After a few less-than-ladylike steps, she found her balance, and set off towards her destination.

The Down-Home Diner was a kitschy place. It was meant to simulate the old-fashioned dining car diners one might find in Equestria—long, low, mostly chrome and vinyl. Even from here, Rarity could see that it was empty. She must have beat her potential mentor here.

That was good! It was rather like having the home-field advantage.

Rarity broke into a sloppy trot, doing her best to utilize the low gravity to her advantage and miserably failing. Somehow, though, she made it to the front steps of the diner.

A few things happened as she entered.

First, the bell over the door tinkled softly.

Second, someone, somewhere in the diner, made a small sound of surprise.

Third, a pony suddenly sat bolt upright from a reclined position in a seat two booths down.

Her mane was mussed and frizzy, floaty down slowly—slower even than the low gravity could truly account for. Not only that, but half of it seemed stuck in its form where it had clearly been pressed against the cracked vinyl seat. The redness of her cheek, the dark circles ringing her eyes and tugging at her cheeks, and the thin line of dried drool all but confirmed it—the mare had been woken from a deep sleep.

As she rubbed her glassy eyes with a clumsy hoof and looked lazily around the place, a pair of large and colorful wings pulled in towards her sides. Every color of an Equestrian sunrise was reflected in those feathers, doubly so in the long and gently curving horn on her head—not only the natural lavender of her coat, but fierce pink-orange and a yellow so vibrant it practically gave off its own light.

And then she locked eyes with Rarity.

And everything clicked.

“Twilight?” Rarity breathed in utter disbelief.

Twilight blinked. She didn’t say a word, only stared back at Rarity with those wide and glassy eyes, her jaw clenched, her brow taut. Her hooves came to rest on the edge of the scuffed table in front of her, poised just so, tucked one right beside the other.

Back in the kitchen, something beeped softly to alert its attendant that it was finished.

“Y-you’re an Architect?” Rarity asked.

After a long pause, Twilight unfurled one wing and looked down at it, puzzled, as if she had only just noticed it there. “I… yes.” She paused, made a face, then snapped her wings back into her sides. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to meet—” The words caught in Rarity’s throat.

T.S.

An odd duck.

“You,” Rarity finished. “I’m here to meet you.”

Twilight furrowed her brows. She thought for a moment, then forced a small chuckle. “Oh, no. No, I don’t think so.” She reached up and tried to pat down the flyaways from her mane. “I’m here to meet with an Architect candidate.”

Rarity took a few more uncertain steps towards her old friend. She didn’t say anything, only let a wry smile tug at the corner of her mouth.

“You…” Twilight’s own smile faded. “Wait. I thought you were in fashion design.”

“I was,” Rarity said, sliding into the booth across from Twilight. “And then ponykind spread to the stars. It’s the sort of thing that makes you rethink your career choices.”

Twilight stared at her.

Rarity stared back.

A small fan somewhere whirred softly, filling the room with a low droning sound that made the absence of tinny easy-listening music all the more obvious.

The mares were quiet.

The memories were fuzzy, of course, but the feelings were not. Like peering into the past through a blurry lens smeared with petroleum jelly, Rarity could make out very few details, could recall no precise memory of a day spent with Twilight. But that halo of yellow-green light that surrounded them on lazy August afternoons was clear. The conspiratorial giggles of a shared joke. The evenings huddled near the radio, listening for news on the latest mission to another world. All those wonderful pauses and yearnings of a youth spent waiting for history to happen.

It had been a long time since their schooling together in Canterlot. But as the now-mature mares looked into one another’s eyes, it was as if no time had passed at all. As if even here, planets away from home, they were just two bright-eyed and idealistic fillies waiting for the moment they would be called to action.

“You look…” Twilight looked her old friend up and down. “Different. You look different than when I last saw you.”

“Well. That makes two of us, darling,” Rarity said.

Twilight chuckled lightly, a nervous and awkward sound tinged with a sort of sadness Rarity couldn’t quite pin down. “Fair enough.”

Rarity smiled.

There was a soft shuffling sound as the doors to the kitchen swung open, their soft rubber stoppers gliding against one another in slow motion. A waitress appeared, her low-gravity gait a practiced and graceful thing, and she trotted up to the booth with ease.

“Morning, fillies,” she said. “What can I getcha?”

Rarity looked up at her and gave her a warm smile. “A hot tea, please,” she requested. “And some wheat toast.”

The waitress nodded, then looked at Twilight.

“The same,” she agreed, somewhat meekly.

“Alrighty, then,” the waitress said. “Thanks for goin’ easy on me. I’ll be out in a few—I’ll put the radio on, too.”

“Thank you,” Rarity said with a small nod.

Twilight made a tiny sound of affirmation.

The waitress departed, gliding through the room with ease as her voluminous curls bounced freely about her face.

“It’s been…” Twilight bit her lip as she tried to count the years.

“A long time,” Rarity finished for her. “It’s been a long time. But it’s wonderful to see you again, dear.”

Twilight fought a smile. “You, too.”

Rarity beamed and rocked back in her seat. “So, then, tell me!” she insisted. “When did you become an Architect?”

Twilight’s smile vanished. “Oh, I…” she mumbled, looking down at the table. She thought for a long moment, then forced an awkward little giggle. “You know me. Always the teacher's pet. Celestia kinda took me under her wing and, when I showed an interest, she… fast-tracked me a bit.”

“A bit?” Rarity repeated. “As far as I’m aware, you’re only the second Architect to gain wings at all. And Cadance was—”

“A special case,” Twilight finished for her. “And… yep. I'm the second one."

Rarity was struck speechless for a moment. "I didn't even—" She stopped herself, took a breath, and tried again. "I know Cadance had a bit of alicorn blood in her, so does that mean—"

"Let's not talk about me, okay?" Twilight cut in, tugging her mane back into place. "Did you… did you really write that asteroid proposal?"

"Tsk." Rarity put her nose in the air. "Are you implying a lady isn't any good at writing research proposals?"

"No!" Twilight argued, genuine panic in her voice. "No, of course not!"

Rarity arched a brow in Twilight's direction and allowed a smirk to fight through her frustrated facade.

"Oh." Twilight frowned. "You're teasing me."

“Sharp as ever,” Rarity snarked. “The asteroid was, indeed, my proposal. I heard you liked it.”

Twilight scoffed, a thoroughly unladylike sound as she was known to make. “Liked it?” she repeated. “It’s amazing! It’s exactly what I’ve been dying to do since I got these stupid wings—some real magical research!”

She flared her wings for dramatic effect, though she was more than a little clumsy. A few primaries caught the edge of the napkin holder and sent plastic tubs of raspberry jam careening across the table.

“Oops.” Twilight snapped her wings in once again. “Sorry. I’m still getting used to them, if I’m honest.”

Rarity only giggled in response. She lit her horn and quickly and neatly stacked the jams back in their container.

“So… you’re trying to become an Architect?” Twilight said softly. “A full one?”

“You mean with the wings to match?” Rarity said with a wink. “I do hope so. If you ask me, I think I’ve got a fair shot at them in the next few years. With the right teacher, of course.”

Twilight’s face flushed. “I-I’m not a teacher.”

“But you are!” Rarity insisted. “You always helped me back at Celestia’s school, much as I may have hated it. I’m sure I owe most, if not all, of my success on Aurora to your tireless tutoring efforts.”

Twilight was quiet for a long moment, only staring back at Rarity with wide and youthful eyes. “You really think so?”

Rarity smiled. “I know so.”

A sudden cough of static filled the diner, and the once-perfect vacuum of silence was filled with the light and jaunty tunes of classic music from the radio. Rarity couldn’t place the exact piece, though the cadence felt very familiar to her, every note short and lifting into nothingness, the true music in the space left behind.

“Well…” Twilight cleared her throat. “Wow. We have a lot of planning to do. I mean, first we’ve got to find an asteroid candidate, and who knows how long it will take to track down one we can make work. We’ll need a staff, of course… at least one earth pony and one pegasus to make sure we have our bases covered, both of them trained in terraforming… what am I forgetting?”

“A moment to breathe?” Rarity suggested.

“Right! Equipment!” Twilight whipped out her televox and practically threw it onto the table. “An asteroid won’t have any atmosphere to speak of. We’ll need a ship and enough gear for our crew, plus some cloud-seeding chemicals to kickstart atmospheric development. We should plan to get a little bit of greenery in, too—might as well let nature do some of the work for us, right?”

Rarity, freed from her sudden freeze, took out her own televox. “I think I can knock a few items off our to-do list,” she said. “As long as you’re alright working with a few more students, that is.”

"Order up!" the waitress called from the window.

Rarity straightened up in anticipation of the coming food.

Twilight, on the other hoof, remained still. She only looked at Rarity, and Rarity could have sworn she saw the far-off twinkle of golden memory in her eyes as a smile crept over her lips.

"Thank you," Rarity murmured to the waitress.

She smiled in return. "I'll be back in a few to check on you," she said, before gliding away once again.

The mares found themselves staring at one another once again.

"What is it?" Rarity asked.

Twilight laughed. "I trust you," she said. "That's all."

Rarity blushed and looked down at her toast.

"So… who will we have on our crew?"

Comments

[iAmSiNnEr]

She relaxed, falling halfway back into her pillows and settling in to watch a beautiful twilight.

when the foreshadowing go br

[Lurks-no-More]

Friendship is Terraforming!

[Venerable Ro]

Always nice to see old friends catching up.

[daOtterGuy]

Ahhhhhh, this was cute as all fluff. Love the dynamic you built between the two of them. Did I say Rarity was my second favourite character? Rarity is my second favourite character. Anyways, the way you told their relationship without ever actually *saying* it was amazing. Super solid.

[Bicyclette]

“I put it in your calendar, okay?” Spitfire continued. “I just wanted to let you know that she’s a little… esoteric might be a nice word for it.”

Rarity blinked. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You don’t know what esoteric means?”

“No, I know what—”

“She’s an odd duck, okay?” Spitfire said. “Not an unkind or unintelligent one, but an odd one for sure. I just want you to hear, from me, that she’s extremely well-respected in this field, and that her little weirdnesses are the only price you pay for her being so brilliant.”

ah, i can just hear Spitfire saying this! and Rarity having to find her hoofing right after waking up; this scene just felt so vivid and real, more like i was watching a movie scene than reading it, you know?

T.S. and R. - Asteroid Proposal

already excited by the initials

Rarity awoke when the autocarriage made its predictably tumultuous landing on the lunar surface, nearly throwing her from her seat. She briefly wondered if the acute shock and terror was better or worse than hot coffee splashed into the white fur on her chest.

again, just love these little worldbuilding details for their own sake, but also for how thematic they are. technology removing another bit of pony connection, and just the general un-idealness of living on Aurora in so many little things. and then the perfectly Rarity tint of vanity in her brief thought, so good!

Her mane was mussed and frizzy, floaty down slowly—slower even than the low gravity could truly account for. Not only that, but half of it seemed stuck in its form where it had clearly been pressed against the cracked vinyl seat. The redness of her cheek, the dark circles ringing her eyes and tugging at her cheeks, and the thin line of dried drool all but confirmed it—the mare had been woken from a deep sleep.

As she rubbed her glassy eyes with a clumsy hoof and looked lazily around the place, a pair of large and colorful wings pulled in towards her sides. Every color of an Equestrian sunrise was reflected in those feathers, doubly so in the long and gently curving horn on her head—not only the natural lavender of her coat, but fierce pink-orange and a yellow so vibrant it practically gave off its own light.

oof, that otherworldly beauty that she is not even aware of enough to try to deliberately maintain, that vulnerability. just so wonderfully Twilight. augh idk, i just love this as an introduction to Twilight Sparkle so much that i can't properly express it

The memories were fuzzy, of course, but the feelings were not. Like peering into the past through a blurry lens smeared with petroleum jelly, Rarity could make out very few details, could recall no precise memory of a day spent with Twilight. But that halo of yellow-green light that surrounded them on lazy August afternoons was clear. The conspiratorial giggles of a shared joke. The evenings huddled near the radio, listening for news on the latest mission to another world. All those wonderful pauses and yearnings of a youth spent waiting for history to happen.

and this way you fit so much character background and worldbuilding in the space of one paragraph, just how do you do that? i can practically feel the magic and excitement of growing up in this world, and can understand better that repeated assertion that everyone wants to be a pioneer. it's like i was there with them

Twilight chuckled lightly, a nervous and awkward sound tinged with a sort of sadness Rarity couldn’t quite pin down. “Fair enough.”

oof, this hits a lot different on a reread

"Tsk." Rarity put her nose in the air. ""Are you implying a lady isn't any good at writing research proposals?""

"No!" Twilight argued, genuine panic in her voice. "No, of course not!"

Rarity arched a brow in Twilight's direction and allowed a smirk to fight through her frustrated facade.

"Oh." Twilight frowned. "You're teasing me."

auauaugh perfect RariTwi interaction

Twilight scoffed, a thoroughly unladylike sound as she was known to make. “Liked it?” she repeated. “It’s amazing! It’s exactly what I’ve been dying to do since I got these stupid wings—some real magical research!”

She flared her wings for dramatic effect, though she was more than a little clumsy. A few primaries caught the edge of the napkin holder and sent plastic tubs of raspberry jam careening across the table.

i wish to repeat my earlier comment on just how perfect and beautiful of an introduction to Twilight this is, augh

A sudden cough of static filled the diner, and the once-perfect vacuum of silence was filled with the light and jaunty tunes of classic music from the radio. Rarity couldn’t place the exact piece, though the cadence felt very familiar to her, every note short and lifting into nothingness, the true music in the space left behind.

this really feels like one of those incidental details that's supposed to be thematic, but what? augh. what is communicated about the relationship between Rarity and Twilight in what isn't said between them? that is great, i love it

The mares found themselves staring at one another once again.

"What is it?" Rarity asked.

Twilight laughed. "I trust you," she said. "That's all."

Rarity blushed and looked down at her toast.

i just want to swim in this stuff, just wrap it over me like a warm blanket. augh, i feel this RariTwi so much and it makes me so happy