Misaligned Stars

by Zontan

Supernova

When Twilight walked in the door I was sitting at the kitchen table, staring into space. A cup of tea sat untouched and cold in front of me.

“Rarity?” she ventured, her voice hesitant, her stance cautious. She was practically hiding behind a basket full of more flowers than I had seen in one place outside a flower shop. “I… uh, I wanted to apologize. For everything.”

When I didn’t respond, she stepped cautiously into the room and set the basket down on the table. “I’m sorry. I lost my temper, but I didn’t mean to hurt you. I love you, Rarity, and everything I’ve done has been for your own good.”

I finally decided to acknowledge her existence. I wasn’t afraid of her anymore, but it wasn’t because she was contrite, head bowed, in her best non-threatening stance. It was because my worst fear had already come to pass, so what more could she do to me?

“Locking me in my home was for my own good?” I asked. I meant for it to be acidic, but it just came out sounding detached.

Twilight hesitated, but then she doubled down. “Yes. It’s… not safe for you to be wandering around town. You’re still recovering.”

“Am I?” I asked. “That’s news to me. I haven’t been in pain for days. Physically, at least.”

I took a breath, and decided it was time to take the plunge. “Twilight, this isn’t working. I think it’s time for this to end.”

Twilight jerked back like I’d hit her. “What? No, no, that’s not true. I know you’re mad, but we can work this out. I can do better.”

“It’s not about doing better. There’s nothing you can do to fix this.”

“Rarity, you can’t just give up! Of course I can fix it. I’ve always been able to fix it.” Twilight stepped forward again, reaching out to take my hoof, but I jerked it away.

“You’re not listening,” I said, a little more forcefully now. “Our relationship isn’t broken, it simply doesn’t work. I should have done this days ago, but I was too… caught up in my own head.”

“Rarity, please. We have to make it work. I love you. I’ve sacrificed so much for you, you can’t just… throw it all away!” Twilight pressed forward again, forcing me half off my chair. “What if you slept on it? In the morning this will all feel silly, you’ll see.”

“I’ve made up my mind,” I said, pushing her away with one hoof. “I made it up a long time ago. I care about you, Twilight, but I don’t love you. I’m not certain I ever did.”

I was certain, but even now, I felt compelled to soften the blow.

“You don’t—” Twilight gasped, almost going slack against my hoof. “But I…” she shook her head, and suddenly her expression darkened. “I did everything for you! Everything you asked for, and more! The least you could do is love me!”

I flinched, but refused to back down. “I am not obligated to you,” I said, Luna’s words echoing in my head. “Love is not an equation that you can solve. It cannot be forced.”

Twilight abruptly pulled back, her eyes widening before she turned away. “It’s not supposed to be like this!” she yelled. “Everything was going to be perfect, and it shouldn’t all fall apart because of one mistake. I just have to figure out what went wrong, and then we can go back to how things were.”

“Twilight!” I snapped. “There is nothing to go back to. This was never going to work.” I opened my mouth to try to explain all the reasons. We’re too different. You don’t respect me. Every time you touch me I feel violated. I’m afraid you’ll hurt me when you raise your voice.

But I still couldn’t bring myself to say them. If I told Twilight how much she hurt me, she’d never forgive herself.

“No,” Twilight said. “You’re not yourself, you don’t know what’s going on. Just… just give me time.” She reached out for me again, but stopped when I shrank away. “You’ll see. I’ll fix it, and then I can explain everything, and we’ll be together.”

“Twilight,” I said sharply. “You’re not making any sense. I don’t need you to fix it. It’s over.”

“I’m sorry,” Twilight whispered. “You never should have had to go through this.”

Before I knew how to respond to that, she turned and ran out the door.

I sagged against the kitchen counter. Every confrontation with Twilight was more exhausting than the last, but I was hopeful that it was actually over. Given how adamant Twilight had been about fixing things, though, it was a faint hope.

I looked down at the basket of flowers, and suddenly wanted nothing more than to get them out of my house. Especially since I didn’t think my trash could contain such a bundle.

I grabbed them off the table and went to the front door, trying it cautiously. I was moderately surprised when this time, it actually opened. But just dumping the flowers right outside my door didn’t seem like it would accomplish much.

Then an idea struck me, and I knew where they might actually do some good.

---

“Rainbow Dash is just down that hall,” the hospital receptionist informed me.

I’d dropped off the flowers at the front desk. Rainbow was still asleep and wouldn’t appreciate them, but there were plenty to distribute to ponies who would.

The door to Rainbow’s room was slightly ajar, but I knocked anyway before coming in. She was still hooked up to tubes and monitors, but her chest was rising and falling steadily, which I took to be a good sign.

Fluttershy looked up at my knock, before silently scooting her chair over to give me better access to the bed. I gave her a grateful smile, stepping up and reaching out to take Rainbow’s hoof. “How’s she doing?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

“Nothing’s changed,” Fluttershy murmured. “The doctors don’t know what’s keeping her from waking up, but she’s not getting any worse.” She hesitated, then added, “You should try talking to her. I don’t know if she can hear us, but I like to think she can.”

“A-alright,” I said, squeezing Rainbow’s hoof, suddenly unsure what to say. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Rainbow. I suppose I should thank you, too. You jumped headfirst into danger without even questioning it, and all I did was run.” I shook my head, a grateful smile creeping onto my face. “You probably saved my life. You kept that beast busy long enough for Twilight to show up, after all. So, I hope you’re doing alright inside your head. Better than I am, anyway. You didn’t deserve this.”

Awkwardly, I released Rainbow’s hoof and stepped away. “How was that?” I asked Fluttershy.

“It was lovely,” she said. “I’m glad you came to visit. I was afraid you wouldn’t.”

I winced. “I’m sorry. I should have come by sooner, but I was… going through a lot.”

“It’s alright,” Fluttershy smiled. “You’re here now.”

We lapsed into silence, the only sounds the steady beeping of Rainbow’s monitor and the hustle of working ponies elsewhere in the hospital.

The door opened again, and Redheart walked in. “Ah! Rarity! It’s good to see you,” she said pleasantly. “If I could just get in here…”

Fluttershy and I did our best to make space for her in the tiny room, and she squinted at the monitors, scribbling absently on her clipboard. “How are you feeling, Rarity?” she asked. “No relapses? Pain, fatigue, or anything of the like?”

I smiled softly. “No, I’m fine. Perfectly healthy.”

Redheart shook her head, chuckling under her breath. “Well, I’ll be. Glad to hear it.”

She turned to leave, but I spoke up again. “Nurse?” I asked. “It seems like that… surprised you.”

Redheart paused in the doorway. “Well,” she hedged. “Twilight didn’t want us to worry you, but in the end, you’re the patient. If you want to know the details of your recovery I’ll give them to you. But I’ll just say that… well, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I would, yes,” I said firmly. If the past week had taught me anything, it was that when Twilight didn’t want me to see something, it was probably something I should see.

“If you’re sure,” she said. “Let me go pull your chart.”

She left the room, and I realized Fluttershy was watching me intently.

When she realized I’d noticed, she looked away, covering her face with her mane. “Um, Rarity,” she squeaked. “I’d like to see that chart too. Um, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” I said easily. “But may I ask why?”

Fluttershy hesitated. “I think—”

The door opened again, and I turned, surprised Redheart was back so quickly. But instead of the nurse, the pony standing in the doorway was Twilight.

“Rarity!” she said, her voice filled with false cheer. “What a coincidence.”

“Twilight,” I replied, keeping my voice neutral. “Did you come to see Rainbow?”

“Of course,” Twilight said, letting out a nervous laugh. “Why else would I be here?”

I pretended I didn’t know she was lying. “Well, there really isn’t enough space in here for all of us, so I will be going. It was nice to see you, Fluttershy.”

I got up, but Twilight didn’t move out of the doorway. “Rarity—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” I interrupted. “Let me through.”

She didn’t move.

“I’ll scream.”

Reluctantly, she stepped aside. I pushed past her, and saw Redheart walking down the hall towards us, a folder in her teeth.

Twilight saw her at the same time I did, and she hastily stepped out of the doorway behind me. “Is that what I think it is?” she asked, and it seemed my lack of answer was answer enough for her. “Rarity, wait, wait. You don’t want to see those.”

“I think I do,” I said. “You’ve been hiding something, and I intend to find out what.”

Twilight changed tactics, turning to Redheart, who had paused warily before reaching us. “Redheart, you know why I asked you to keep those confidential. You’ll just upset her.”

Redheart transferred the folder to one hoof. “I recall. But they are her files, Twilight. She has a right to see them if she wants to.”

I stepped forward, reaching for the folder with my magic, but Twilight was faster, snatching the folder with a much stronger grip.

Redheart gasped, shocked. “Twilight!” she scolded. “Return those to Rarity at once. Just because you’re a Princess doesn’t mean I won’t have you thrown out of this hospital.”

I wheeled on her. “What is in those files?” I demanded. “What are you hiding, Twilight?”

“I can explain,” Twilight pleaded. “Just hear me out. I did it for you.”

“I knew it,” a quiet, sharp voice cut in. Fluttershy had stepped out of the room, and I had never seen her look so angry. “You did something. You fixed her.”

“I didn’t say—”

“I saw you!” Fluttershy practically growled. “You snuck in here in the middle of the night, and the next morning, Rarity was suddenly better! You healed your marefriend, but you left Rainbow to rot!”

“That’s not what happened!” Twilight’s voice quavered, and she pulled back, hugging my folder to her chest. “I’m not… I’m not a healer. I wouldn’t even know where to start. If I could do anything for Rainbow, don’t you think I would have?”

“I’m not so sure,” Fluttershy hissed. “As soon as you got Rarity out of here, you vanished. No one’s seen you, except for turning away people at Rarity’s door. It seems like that’s all you care about lately. I thought we were your friends too.”

“That’s not—” Twilight seemed near tears, backing slowly away from Fluttershy. “You don’t understand.”

“Because you refuse to tell us anything!” I shouted. “You’re so convinced you’re doing this for the greater good that you haven’t once stopped to think about how we feel about it!”

Twilight bowed her head. “You’re right,” she whispered. “I just… I didn’t want things to change.” She turned to me. “When you got hurt, it was… bad. Really bad. The doctors did everything they could, but it wasn’t enough.” Finally, she held out the folder to me. “You died, Rarity.”

I took it from her, the motion almost automatic, because my brain was still trying to process what Twilight had said. But then I opened the folder, and gasped.

There were pictures in it. Of me. My broken body, covered in blood, limbs at impossible angles. Next to the photos was a long list of medical terms, but I didn’t read them, because right at the bottom of the first page, unmistakable, was the time of death.

“I… I couldn’t let that happen,” Twilight whispered. “I couldn’t lose you. Not like that, not when it was my fault.” Her voice cracked. “When I was Celestia’s student, she taught me dark magic. Just a little bit, so I understood what it was. But I looked up more. Ways to do things that… most unicorns don’t learn about. A spell to bring back the dead.

“I didn’t have a choice. Don’t you see? I had to do it. I had to. But when you came back you were… different. I thought it would fade, that you would go back to normal if I just gave you enough time. And I was just happy to have you back. But you didn’t get better, and now it’s destroying us.” Twilight was crying now, blinking back tears as she pleaded at me with her eyes. “I changed you. I made a mistake with the spell, or it just didn’t mention the side effects. And it took away your love.”

Slowly, I flipped through the papers in my file. They detailed my miraculous recovery—healing broken bones in days instead of weeks, and everything past the first page made no mention of the fact that I had been dead right beforehand. Finally, I closed the folder, and, numbly, gave it back to Redheart, who took it without a word.

Twilight was looking at me expectantly, and I had no idea what to say. It all made sense now. Why I couldn’t create anymore. Why I barely needed to eat. Why I felt so overwhelmingly… numb.

Did I even still have a soul?

I didn’t say anything to Twilight. I just turned and started walking towards the door. I wasn’t surprised to hear the sound of hoofsteps behind me.

“Rarity!” Twilight called. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. What else could I have done?”

I kept walking.

“Please, say something!”

I kept walking.

“You don’t have to be like this! If I figure out what went wrong with the spell, I can fix you. You can go back to loving me.”

I stopped.

I turned.

“Twilight, I never loved you,” I said, almost mechanically. “I was going to break up with you before any of this happened.”

I heard the sound of Twilight’s heart shattering as I walked out the door.

---

The boutique was dark when I arrived, and I didn’t bother turning on any of the lights. I stumbled through the home in a daze, looking through the trappings of the dressmaker that ran it without really seeing them. Everything felt unfamiliar, and I traced my hoof across ponnequins and fabric like I’d never touched such things before.

Eventually, my wanderings found me in the workroom once again. I marveled at the sleek design of the sewing machine, then picked up the sketchbook on the table. There were beautiful images in it, drawn by some other pony. I recognized them, but they felt like they had been shown to me by someone else. The memories of drawing them were… wrong. Misaligned. Not quite real.

The latter half of the sketchbook was blank. Worthless. No one would fill it. I dropped it, no longer interested.

Then I left, never to return.

The bedroom at the top of the stairs looked lived-in, so I walked into that one. The bed was luxurious, too big for a single pony and impossibly soft. The dresser was ornate and covered in awards for fashion design. I walked right past them.

I went to the mirror in the adjoining bathroom and looked into the eyes of a pony I barely recognized. Her makeup was smudged, and her eyes were blank. There was no life in them; why would there be?

I opened the medicine cabinet, and pulled out a bottle.

I poured the entire contents into my hoof.

I turned on the sink.

I let the empty bottle drop to the floor, and I climbed into the too-large bed. It was just as soft as it looked.

Everything was about to go back to how it should be.

This entire week had merely been a bad dream.

I closed my eyes, for the last time.

Comments

[Mystic Sunrise]

No wonder Twilight didn't want Luna to see Rarity. She would soon figure out what Twilight had done, and Twilight would not win that fight.

[Starlight Nova]

Why isn’t there a dark tag?

[Novelle Tale]

oh dear

[new55]

That was a good story.

[Seer]

Really good stuff mate. A very intense and difficult read, but your character work shines with a creeping, intolerable sense of dread

Twilight is a really good, heartbreakingly misguided villain in the piece, and Rarity's POV is excellently pulled off. Amazing stuff

[Flashgen]

This story has been sticking in my head for a while. I think it's because the things Twilight is doing to Rarity throughout it all are so manipulative and toxic and, worst of all, real. Excluding the dark necromancy, these are the things that happen in relationships. There are gaslighting, controlling, overbearing, self-serving, and entitled people that feel owed something, who view love and relationships as a simple transaction instead of a complex, cooperative experience. The outcome of it too can be just as sad as Rarity's realization.

Fantastic work, Zontan.