• Published 3rd Feb 2012
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Friends and Lovers - Donnys Boy



A series of mini-stories exploring various pony ships. Because shipping is magic.

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Growing Pains (RariPie)

"Growing Pains"
(RariPie)

“Where you goin’, sugarplum?”

Said in a voice just a little too loud and a little too cheerful. Just a little too much.

“Just out somewhere,” comes the reply, in a low snarl, barely restrained. “And for the last time, I’m not a baby anymore, Mom. Stop calling me sugarplum!”

“Okie dokie lokie, sugar--” An embarrassed grin, paired with eyes as sad as they are blue. “I mean, okie dokie, Topaz.”

The door opens, and the door slams. Pinkie Pie stands staring at the front door for several long moments, standing more silently and more motionlessly than she’s almost ever been, and it breaks Rarity’s heart just to look at her wife. Finally, Pinkie turns around and gives a helpless shrug.

“I dunno what I’m doing wrong,” she confesses in a voice that’s soft and scared.

“Nothing, darling,” Rarity replies, shaking her head. “Our little gem is simply growing up. That’s all.”

Pinkie Pie frowns. “But that doesn’t make any sense, Rarishine. Topaz and I used to be the bestest friends ever, and now … now ...”

Rarity gets up from her work table and crosses the living room of the boutique, wrapping Pinkie in a hug as soon as she’s within reach. She concentrates on the feel of Pinkie’s face buried against her chest, on the surprisingly gentle inhales and exhales from the other pony, and she tries to ignore the tiny little voice in the back of her head that’s whispering terrible things. The voice that reminds her of all the days and nights a much younger and smaller Topaz would cry and yell, “I don’t want you--I want Mom!

Instead of listening to that traitorous voice, Rarity runs a soothing hoof down her wife’s back. “It’s just a phase, Pinkie. She’s trying to assert her independence, and at this age, all parents are tremendously unhip and embarrassing.” She drops a kiss into that mess of pink mane. “Topaz will grow out of it.”

There’s a moment or two of silence before Pinkie replies, her voice muffled against Rarity’s fur, “But don’t you still think your parents are embarrassing?”

“Yes. Well. That is because my parents are embarrassing.”

This time, the pause is notably longer. “Rarity? I’m not so sure this is a very good cheering ponies up talk.”

Rarity snorts, in the loud and unladylike way that only Pinkie Pie is permitted to hear. “My point, darling,” she says with a small chuckle, “is that Topaz still loves you very, very much.”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”

Rarity feels Pinkie give a tiny little nod. “O-okay. I hope you’re right, Rarishine.”

“Darling, just how many years have we been married now?” And then, before Pinkie can actually answer that question, Rarity adds, “Far too many for you to doubt that I am always right.”

They stand there, in the middle of Carousel Boutique, just leaning against one another, holding on to one another. It’s not the first time they’ve done this, by any means, and it won’t be the last. Rarity holds onto Pinkie as tight as she can, because she knows she won’t hurt Pinkie by doing so. Too-tight hugs aren’t what hurts Pinkie.

After just a few minutes, however, the front door opens, and Rarity takes a step back. The young mare in the doorway, a filly with beautifully sparkling eyes and a violently frizzy mane, fidgets with her forehooves and stares down at the floor.

It’s quiet enough to hear a pin drop. The filly’s huge eyes, normally a light blue, are so wet that they almost look violet.

“Mom?”

Pinkie’s voice trembles, just slightly, as she says, “Yes, sweetie?”

“I’m … I’m sorry. For, you know, yelling at you. And stuff.”

Almost before the words are out of Topaz’s mouth, Pinkie’s across the room, scooping up the filly in a crushing embrace while laughing and crying and singing all at once. Topaz rolls her eyes but can’t quite hide a grin of her own. And then, almost in unison, both mares glance over to Rarity, a question and an invitation in their eyes.

Rarity waits just a beat or two, for dramatic emphasis, before relenting. “Oh, very well.”

Obligingly she trots over to her wife and daughter, and they pull her into their hug. Rarity can feel her fur grow damp with tears and quite possibly bodily excretions other than tears, as well, but she can’t quite stop herself from smiling anyway.

Author's Note:

RariPie angst-fluff! Don't care that "angst-fluff" isn't a word! It should be! This is a story adapted from a submission to the Thirty Minute Ponies prompt "A lot changes when you're a teenager" (http://thirtyminuteponies.tumblr.com/post/44641493673/prompt-278-compilation-growing-pains-theme-week).