This One's For The Dancer
Politics or romance.
That was the ultimatum, wasn’t it? That was the final decision that had to be made, at the end of the day.
Rarity sighed, rubbing the bridge of her snout with a hoof. Taking a deep breath and steadying herself at her desk, she stood, her joints protesting. She was getting old and she knew that sitting down for as long as she did was bad for her. She knew, really! Twilight certainly made it a habit to belabor the point whenever she was given the opportunity.
She thought of her beloved. She thought of her, trapped in that glittering spire, chained to a desk. Chained to a fake smile. A fake smile that she had gotten very good at over the years, to Rarity’s concern. So long as Rarity could remember what a real Twilight smile looked like, however, she didn’t care too much. It was selfish, but that was somepony else's problem.
She had given enough of her life, of her precious time; she had been as generous as fate demanded. She would allow herself some small selfishness. She would allow herself to think of her lover, of their bodies tangled in the sheets as the summer sun beat against the cool marble of the castle. Or maybe she would think of them strolling the quiet streets of Ponyville, wrapped up in a powerful glamor Twilight had created. The two of them, tails intertwined, appearing as normal ponies. The two of them, decades of trials and tribulations between them. The two of them, walking in step, into an uncertain future.
There was an unmistakable domestic bliss in two mares quietly working in each other's company. For Rarity, the low thrum of her sewing machine was the perfect backing track to the quiet ‘hmms’ and ‘ohs’ that spilled unbidden from Twilight’s lips. You could always tell when she was lost in thought, a phenomenon Rarity paused her sewing to observe.
Her body language was predictable, in a way. She would roll her shoulders, tap her pen against the desk, chew her lip, mumble something under her breath; this would repeat again. Her mind kept the time while her body played the rhythm. There was something mesmerizing about the entire thing. It served almost as a reminder that Twilight was just as much a pony as she was a princess; her body was just as much flesh and blood as myth and magic.
Seemingly noticing the absence of noise, Twilight stopped in her tracks. She set the pen down as she looked up and then over to Rarity.
“Hello, Rarity.” Twilight’s face and voice were difficult to read, almost diplomatic.
“Hello, Twilight.” Rarity made no such effort to be opaque. Her voice was transparently thick with love and charm and her body mimicked the tone. “You’re very cute when you get lost in thought.”
Twilight blinked a few times, her brain only just now catching up to the present moment. She smiled back, the tension in her shoulders slipping away. “I’m glad you think so! I’d be worried if you didn’t, to be honest. I feel like I get lost in thought a lot.”
Rarity stood up and sauntered over, pressing a gentle kiss to her lover's neck. She was so tall and warm and soft; so unlike the bedraggled pony that had first stumbled into her boutique all those years ago. Twilight hummed happily, a slightly blush washing over her cheeks.
“You do! Less so these days but…” Rarity rolled her hoof around in the air, lost for words. She opted to turn her focus to Twilight's work instead; the table in front of her was covered in charts and maps and reports. Being a princess looked exhausting. “What’ve you been working on?”
Twilight pivoted in her chair, excitedly splaying out her front hooves. “Public transportation! The Equestrian train system was one of the… more neglected public works Celesta developed. This new system leverages a few different types of heavy rail, local buses, and upgrades to the existing high speed rail network. The goal is to be able to connect more of Equestria and the world outside of it than ever before. It’s… pretty ambitious, I’ll admit, but I’m really keen on leaving my mark on this world as best I can.”
Rarity nodded, only half listening. She had seen some of the changes first-hoof — small optimizations in her route between Ponyville, Canterlot, and Manehattan. Small changes in the grand scheme but no doubt deeply impactful on hundreds of thousands of lives. “I know you’ll be able to pull it off. How… How long do you think something like this would take?”
Twilight paused, her gaze unfocused. She looked at her workspace, then to Rarity, before turning her attention back to the table again. “Optimistically? Thirty to forty years.” Twilight turned back to Rarity. “Worst case? Sixty years. Depends on how politics change in the next few decades. “
Forty years. Her entire lifetime up until this moment was being used now as a measuring stick, a tool with which to mark the passing of time. She nodded curtly, her expression devoid of any character. “Forty years, eh? I just hope I’m alive to see it.”
Twilight turned, her eyes full of equal parts concern and confusion. “I’m certain you will be.”
Twilight Sparkle was tall. She was graceful. She was wise. She was talking too goddamn much for a mare with a headache to stand.
Rarity was slumped on the couch, a cool washcloth over her eyes. She tried her best to imitate a comatose pony, sinking into the exquisitely comfortable cushions she currently sought solace in. She had drunk far too heavily last night in a desperate attempt to get her brain to come up with some sort of proposal plan. Anything, anything at all. And all she had to show for her efforts was a splitting hangover and several inexplicable bruises.
Oh, and a missed date with Twilight. Past Rarity had lacked the foresight to notify her marefriend that she would not be able to attend brunch after all, that a project had come up and that they could reschedule for later that evening. Instead, Twilight had let herself into Rarity’s bedroom to find her sleeping, curled up on the floor and surrounded by bottles of rum.
“Twilight.” Rarity didn’t have the energy to keep her tone even as she spoke, the pain behind her eyes pulsing incessantly. “Do be quiet.”
“Right. Yes.” Rarity could picture Twilight from across the room. She would fold her hooves across her lap, her mouth a thin line. She would look around the room for something to catch her ever-moving mind. Something quiet, hopefully, to keep her entertained while Rarity tried not to be catastrophically sick onto the tile floor of her room.
She would feel bad because of course she would. She was perfect and kind, a paragon of ponykind. She was so lovely and so painfully blind. Blind to time, to the pressure of death, to needing to do something with this love before it inevitably expired.
Rarity took a few deep breaths, steadying her mood. That was the hangover talking. Twilight was an angel and that was final. “You wouldn’t happen to have a spell to cure hangovers, would you?”
Rarity pictured Twilight perking up at the question. Magic! Magic was something Twilight could do, something that didn’t need thinking about in the way that marriage did. Magic, Rarity knew, was her passion. “Not off the top of my head but I’m sure I could figure something out! I don’t have any of my healing magic books with me, so stay right here. I’ll be back!”
Twilight’s exit was announced with an ear splitting crack, teleporting off to… wherever it was she was going. “I can do that,” Rarity said to an empty room. “I can wait for as long as you need.”
Rarity rolled the ring around in her hooves. It was heavy. Or felt heavy, at least. It was simple, just a band of platinum adorned with two gems. One, a brilliant white diamond, was cut into the shape of a six pointed star. The other was an amethyst, similarly mimicking a four pointed gem. A simple ring for a painfully complex situation.
“Ma’am? Is everything alright with the ring? It’s some of my finest work but if it’s not up to your standard—” The jeweler was silenced with a wave of Rarity’s hoof. She had long ago learned that just being an Element carried with it a weight that caused other ponies great anxiety. She had no time to indulge that anxiety today.
“Everything is perfect as usual, Golden Band. You shouldn’t doubt yourself just because a mare looked at you funny.” Rarity placed the ring back in its box, fishing out a stack of bit bills. When she turned back to Golden, the concern on his face gave her pause.
“You’re not just a mare, Rarity. This is a ring for… for her, isn’t it?” Golden fiddled with the bills, not even bothering to count them before tucking them away. “I’ve got to make sure it’s perfect. This ring is going to live a lot longer than me.”
Rarity nodded, trying her hardest to keep her own expression neutral. “She’s going to love it, I promise. I’ve never lied to you before, have I?” Rarity flashed him a smile, putting the ring way into her bag.
“No, not to me.” Not to me. Rarity thought about that. Not to me. To her friends, maybe. To herself, all the time. Never to him. “Just… let me know how she likes it, okay? I won’t be able to sleep right until I know.”
Rarity smiled again, a quiet and pensive smile. “Trust me, you’ll find out from the tabloids how she feels about it, one way or the other.”
Rarity could wait no longer. She could only delay this for so long. Her brain screamed at her every moment she was alone with Twilight.
Propose!
Twilight turned to the next page, her glasses perched gently on the bridge of her snout. Rarity thought it funny that she needed glasses at all. How did the body of a mare immune to aging get to the point where glasses became a necessity? Maybe it was all those years spent as a unicorn reading. Maybe she wasn’t as immortal as Rarity thought.
PROPOSE!
Maybe she was just incredibly long-lived. Maybe the sisters' retirement was them realizing the end of their own lifetimes. Retirement would be the best way for their little ponies to understand that. Could you imagine what would happen if the Sun and the Moon themselves said one day ‘we will die soon’? Rarity wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
PROPOSE!
Rarity could take it no longer. Twilight Sparkle, that beautiful mare, could only look at Rarity sideways as she slid off the couch and landed kneeling. Twilight Sparkle, love of her life, only understood what was happening when Rarity pulled a box out of the bag lying on the couch. Twilight Sparkle, crying tears of joy, reminded Rarity why she was in love.
“I was hoping,” Rarity could barely speak through her choked sobs. “That you would propose sometime before I died. I couldn’t wait any longer. Will you marry me?”
Twilight managed a yes through her own tears and for a moment, Rarity felt immortal.