> Inspiration Aftermath > by paleowriter > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Inspiration Aftermath > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Inspiration Aftermath by paleowriter Rarity must’ve offered her help at least a dozen times over, but the princesses insisted she go home. “After being controlled by that much dark magic, you must need to rest,” Twilight said, finishing up a spell to turn the town’s roads back from their golden state. Rarity winced as Twilight swayed where she stood from the effort. “Recovering from dark energies does indeed take its toll,” Princess Luna agreed, ridding a whole crowd of ponies of their gaudy, bedazzled accessories at once. “I, too, recommend rest.” “We’ve got it from here.” Princess Cadence smiled, tucking a loose strand of her mane into place after zapping Ponyville's gazebo back to normal. Rarity tried to argue, but it was no use. Before anything embarrassing were to happen—such as being magicked home by three members of the royal family—she bowed her head and headed back to her boutique. Of course, her boutique was the epicenter of her earlier actions. Rarity walked in cautiously, stepping over the piles of gowns, hats, and scarves that littered every inch of her shop. Instead of pride at any of these creations, Rarity burned with shame. “Oh, if only I could disappear just like my book so mysteriously did!” she moaned to Opal, who sat on a cat tower made of platinum. At least Opal didn’t seem to mind Rarity’s changes. She blinked one eye open at her owner, then rolled over and went back to sleep on her poofy silk pillows. Meanwhile, Rarity’s thoughts clouded over at the mention of the evil artifact that had caused her so much trouble. That book. Rarity shuddered. Even under Discord’s control, she’d never felt so…so…horrified with herself. The book didn’t just make her act selfishly. It twisted her very Element, using it to cause harm to others. And Spike… Spike… Rarity frowned. No, she wouldn’t go down that road. She shook her head, and slowly began organizing the mess she’d made in her earlier possessed state. Anything that had been created by the dark spell went to one corner, and anything Rarity already had in her shop went to another. A glittering dress to the left, and a clothing rack to the right. A tassled jacket to the left, and a mannequin to the right. But cleaning up just reminded her of all her misdeeds, and Rarity found she couldn’t keep her mind off of what Spike had done. Spike was the one who’d brought her the cursed book. But…he was also the one to save her from it. The poor dragon had no idea he had given her something that might cause harm. Yet Rarity couldn’t shake the awful temptation to blame this all on him. It’d be so much easier to blame him. Rarity bit at her lip, guilt dancing through her. No. She couldn’t blame Spike. That wasn’t fair. Once a bare patch had been cleared on her floor, Rarity laid down on it. Her couch was of no use—it would need to be de-magicked by the princess trio later. The floor would have to do for now. It was all she deserved, really. She sighed, then became mildly appalled when she noticed her breath carry a few dust bunnies across the room. “Rarity,” she asked herself, “Just what sort of Element of Generosity are you?” She buried her face in her hooves, scarcely able to face all that had happened to her. “You say you give to allow others a chance at what their hearts truly desire, and yet deep down you judge them.” Her humiliation deepened. This went far beyond a simple curse, and she knew it. “Just like your poor client and his puppet theatre. You judge what others want, as if you know better than they do. For shame! Just look at what you came up with when faced with a chance to give everypony in Ponyville what you thought they should have.” Rarity pulled one of the dust bunnies back with her magic, twirling it in the air. “Why, if it wasn’t for Spike, who knows what other atrocities you could have caused?” She set the bit of dust aside. “The dearheart is not to blame. You know he meant well, bringing that book to you. He always means well, where you’re concerned.” Rarity fell silent. Opal rolled over once more, snuggling deeper into her pillows. He always means well. After a moment, Rarity’s voice returned, far quieter than before. “Spike is truly a magnificent friend,” she whispered, shutting her eyes. “I…I hardly deserve him.” After they’d arrived back in Ponyville, Spike had tried to cover for Rarity, insisting on taking the blame himself. But Rarity fessed up to Twilight, and Spike had given her the saddest look she’d ever seen. He’d clearly felt guilty. Even though he’d only been trying to be a good friend to her. Even though he risked losing their friendship to bring her back to her senses. Rarity sat up. The mess around her was overwhelming, but she practically dove straight into it, inspiration striking. “Where is it? No, no, no…” She ruffled through endless items of dark magic, until finally getting to her boutique’s original supplies. “Yes!” Rarity tugged open a drawer. “Idea!” She would make something for Spike. Something he’d really want. She had to thank him. And more than that…she had to show him just how much his friendship meant to her. She hadn’t lied to Spike. He truly was her most supportive friend. And while that support had gotten them into quite a bit of trouble this past day, Rarity wouldn’t trade it for a million bits and a condo in Upper Canterlot. A small smile played across Rarity’s face. Somehow, Spike looked at her and consistently saw the good, rather than the flaws. It was that ability that allowed him to save her today—to remind her who she was, and who she was not. And if there was one thing Rarity knew about who she was, it was that she was one unbelievably lucky pony. It was high time she returned the favor. With all of that in mind, Rarity set to work. Oh, no doubt this project would take a while and use up a lot of her energy, and despite all that, it still might not turn out absolutely perfectly… But somehow, Rarity felt that was appropriate.