> Succor > by Rose Quill > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > "Teach me how to fight." Rarity asked sweetly. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Absolutely not.” Princess Rarity was not used to hearing those two words together. They had been coming out of her bodyguard’s lips an awful lot lately. “And why not?” she demanded.  “Because it is pointless, my Lady,” Twilight said, turning a page in her book. She’d relaxed slightly while in Rarity’s private chambers, managing to complete two chapters today. “Your purpose is to lead this country one day. And mine is to make sure you can. If I were to train you in close quarters combat, shall I learn statecraft as well?” “I think I’d rather share the throne with you than some of these stuffed shirts Father seems so intent to marry me off to.” Rarity batted her eyes at Twilight and a slight blush flushed the soldier’s face.  “Well, um...” Twilight closed her book and set it to the side. “That’s an issue for you and your father to decide.” She stood, stretched, and winced. The cut of a thwarted assassin's blade was still fresh on her side. If Rarity hadn’t—grudgingly—donned a disguise of armor and coif, she might not be standing here. Rarity didn't miss her guard’s pained look. “Does it still trouble you?” “A bit,” Twilight replied. “Thankfully, the doctors removed the stitches this morning. My full range of motion should return soon.” Rarity glanced down, fiddled with the hem of her cape, and whispered, “I’m glad.” Twilight looked at her, a curious look sliding over her usual serious demeanor. “Why do you even want to learn fighting, my Lady?” she asked quietly. “Surely you don’t doubt my abilities, and you have taken years of training with the rapier, as your father demanded. The truth.” “I…” Rarity’s throat squeaked closed. The sight of the bleeding gash on Twilight’s side flashed before her eyes and fear snapped her body tense. “I want to protect Sweetie Belle. And protect myself in the dreadful case we get separated.” Twilight sat and met the princess’ eyes. There was compassion and understanding in her gaze. Twilight might not know what went unsaid, but she knew there was something held back. “I see.” “She’s my sister,” Rarity continued, building up to ramble. “If assassins are after me, surely they’ll make attempts on her life as well.” “She also has her own guard. I’ve trained with Rainbow Dash and she’s as loyal as they come. She’ll be safe. And I’ll keep you safe, I swore an oath to do so, if you recall.” “Because it’s your duty...” Rarity said, the words sounding a little despondent. “It is my duty,” Twilight agreed. “You are the future Queen, the strong hoof to guide the country into the days ahead.” She glanced out the window at the sun. “I must go receive the guards’ reports before the evening shift rotation. I trust that you’ll behave in the ten minutes I’ll be gone?” “I think I can manage five.” The princess gave a flirting smile, burying the little knot of worry in her chest. She pulled the discarded book over to her and flipped the pages open. “I’ll try to keep your place.” “I’m on page two-fifteen, paragraph three section two.” Twilight winked. “Do your worst.” The soldier missed Rarity’s raspberry blown as the door swung closed behind her.  Once she was alone, Rarity put the book down with a frown.  Brillant, Rarity. Simply brilliant. Why hadn’t I been able to tell her why I truly wanted to learn? She didn’t want to see Twilight hurt again—on her behalf. It made sense to her: if she knew how to defend herself, then she’d make the task easier for Twilight. They could watch each other’s backs. She hoped she could even bridge the gap between them. She was getting tired of everpony calling her ‘Her Highness,’ ‘Princess Rarity,’ or even the neutral’ My Lady’ she got from Twilight. Aside from her sister, she was just a title. Even Father called her by her titles more than her name! Her ears perked up at a rustle outside. “Twilight?” she called. “Has it been ten minutes already?” A sudden cry followed the clash of metal and she scrambled to her hooves. She stared at the door, her only rampart from the commotion, then away for an escape. She galloped to the main chamber door and slammed the bolt shut. She fled to her room, locking each door on the way. She leaned against the last one and pressed her ear to the wood. Distant shouting and fighting carried through the wood. Fighting in the castle? Who? Why? How had they gotten into the castle? A heavy body overrode the fighting noise as it slammed against the outer chamber doors.  “Twilight.” She whimpered as she heard the doors crack in protest. “Hurry.” The outer doors crashed open one after the other. Rarity could hear heavy hoofsteps tread closer across her carpeted floor. “We know you’re here, poppet,” a rough voice said. “Come out now and we won’t hurt you.” The steps came to the front of the last door. Rarity bit her lip to keep her fearful whine slip free. Her eyes flew across the room, searching for anything she could use for defense. All she had near to hoof were her needlepoint and a half-finished scarf she had started knitting for Twilight. The door she was leaning against shuddered in it’s frame. The impact flung her away from it for a moment. She hurriedly thrust against it again, eyes darting all over for a weapon. She saw the fireplace poker and snatched in her magic just as the door splintered under another heavy blow. “Just let us in, poppet. You’re just making it harder on yourself.” She could see a dusty orange coat beyond, covered with sturdy leather barding.  Another blow collapsed the door and a tall stallion stepped over the shattered planks. He easily caught the awkward swing of the poker. “Ah, now.” He chuckled. “That just plain wasn’t nice.” He tore the poker from Rarity’s panicked grip and tossed it out of her line of sight. “I think you should learn that actions have consequences.” Rarity scrambled back as he brought out two looped silver straps from a pocket in his armor. Mage shackles. “I wasn’t planning on using these, but you just showed you can’t be trusted.” He stepped forward. “Give me your hoof.” She shook her head. Twilight… “Maybe you didn’t hear me,” the stallion said, his voice losing its false humor. “Give me your hoof.” As he reached down for her hoof, she swung out and connected. A trickle of blood rolled down from his lip. He responded with a hard punch. Her world swam before her eyes as she skidded across the floor and collided against her craft table. Her eye was starting to swell shut as the table dumped its contents around her. “Bitch,” her attacker spat, spitting a wad of blood to the side. He pocketed the shackles and advanced, fury in his eyes. Rarity tried to get her bearings, but he was too close. Her only valid eye fell onto her knitting needle. “You’re not going to enjoy this, Princess.” She didn’t like the tone of the title. As he reached her, she kicked out, managing to connect a weak blow to his chin, barely enough to turn his head. “Why you little–“ Rarity screamed, fear and adrenaline mustering a stronger burst of magic than normal. Her cornflower blue magic grabbed the long needle and sent it flying forward into the stallion’s astonished face. There was a sudden resistance and a slight grunt of surprise… Then silence, save for Rarity’s sobs. She couldn't look away. The needle still glowed with her magic, and she could dimly feel the weight of the stallion, the glow illuminating the shock frozen on his face.  “My Lady,” a voice whispered, unheeded by Rarity. I killed him, she thought dully. A pair of hooves settled onto her shoulders.  “My Lady,” Twilight repeated. Her lavender magic flowed over the knitting needle and slowly replaced Rarity’s grip on it. “It’s alright, I’m here.” Rarity turned her face to her bodyguard and saw blood on the purple fur of her face. Rarity began to frantically paw at her, surveying for where she’d been hurt.  “Highness!” Twilight protested but Rarity kept searching. “Rarity.” Twilight whispered harshly into the frantic princess’ ear who finally paused. “It’s not my blood. It’s not mine.” She called me Rarity, the princess thought. Adrenaline fled and blackness starte to crawl at the edges of her vision. I like how it flows from her lips. Nausea rose and she turned to the side, retching then collapsing. She dimly hear Twilight cry out for a healer. The weight of her quilt was the first thing Rarity felt. She groaned as several bruises wracked her side and face. She could barely open one eye. I’m in my room, but what an awful mess… the events rushed back into her mind and she stiffened, which pulled another groan from her mouth. Twilight came into her line of sight, clad in her light kit: a hammered metal cuirass and a light coat of mail. A look of concern creased her face. “Are you alright, my Lady?” she asked. Rarity nodded, regretting it as pain in her eye flared. “Better than I must look, I’m sure.” Twilight tilted her head in agreement. “You’ll have a few nice bruises; that eye of yours will take a day or two to go down.” She looked away. “I’m glad you’re okay.” “Where were you?” Rarity asked. “They slipped in through the postern gate,” Twilight said. “The rotation had just begun and they slipped through in the confusion. I think a few guards were also on the payroll of whoever planned this. Four are unaccounted for.” “Twilight,” Rarity whispered. “This is my fault,” she said. “I shouldn’t have left you. My place is here, by your side.” Rarity smiled a little. “But you can’t be there all the time. How will you ever finish your book?” Twilight let a light chuckle slip free. “I’ll find time, my Lady.” “Stop that,” the princess said, sitting up a bit more in her bed, hissing in pain as bruises protested. “If we aren’t among courtiers or in public, I don’t want you calling me by my title.” “I’m sorry?” “Rarity,” she stated. “My name is Rarity, and I would very much like it if you were to use it when we are in private.” “I will keep that in mind, my Lady,” Twilight said, bowing her head. “What did I just tell you?” “To use your given name whenever the two of you are in private,” a smooth voice said. With a yelp, Rarity turned and found Sunset Shimmer, court mage and healer, lounging on a nearby divan. The amber pony hopped up and approached, horn lighting up. “As unobtrusive as I try to be, I am still present.”  The warmth of a palliative magic swept through Rarity’s body. “She’ll be fine,” Sunset told Twilight with a smile. “I can’t do much for the bruises, but she doesn’t have anything broken and she should be up on her hooves tomorrow afternoon at the latest. I put a mending spell on her, it’ll help her heal faster when she rests.” Sunset dimmed her horn and turned to leave. “Thank you,” Twilight said. “I know you have others to attend to.” “Anything for you, Sparky,” she said with a grin. “You keep an eye on her.” Rarity pouted slightly. “I’m right here, you know.” “Both eyes, as often as I can spare them.” Sunset left, leaving the two unicorns alone. In the moment of silence, Rarity scanned her room. The door bore hasty repairs, reminding her of the assailant “Why do you want to learn how to fight?” Twilight asked. “Why ask that now?” Rarity huffed. “It’s not just to protect yourself,” her bodyguard mused aloud. “Your technique may not have been... refined, but you did manage to defend yourself when it came down to it.” Her eyes latched onto Rarity’s, making her fidget. “I don’t like the idea of you getting hurt,” Rarity whispered after a moment, her eyes downcast. “My Lady?” “I don’t like you getting hurt, okay!” Rarity shouted. She shook her head, regretting raising her voice. “I know you’re my bodyguard and that it’s your duty and all, but... You’re not a shield for me to thrust out at any danger—like Father does! You’re a great pony: a thinking, brilliant, breathtaking pony! And the thought that you being wounded --or worse-- because of assassins after me hurts more than anything any assassins could do.” Rarity lifted her gaze to Twilight and met her dumbstruck eyes. “That’s why I want to learn, beyond than formal training befitting a lady. That, I know, won’t help in a real bout. I refuse to just be your damsel in distress. If I can help, I want to. Because in the future, there might be a time where we’ll have to work together.” Twilight scuffed her hoof on the carpet, the fibers making a tiny noise as they rubbed against her greave. “All right,” she finally said. “But! I’ll only teach you the basics for now.” “Twilight–” Rarity began. “You must walk before you can run, my Lady,” Twilight said, taking a seat near the bed as she picked up her discarded book in her magic. “And before you can walk, you must rest.” “If you insist,” Rarity sighed. “I do,” Twilight said with a nod. “Twilight,” Rarity asked after a short silence. “Will you be here when I wake up?” “I will,” her guard assured. “Whenever that might be.” “Good,” she whispered sleepily, eyes growing heavy. “Twilight?” “Yes?” “Thank you.” “You’re welcome, Rarity.” As her eyes slid shut, Rarity smiled. She called me Rarity.