When Rarity’s friends discover that she has been secretly meeting with an escort, they begin investigating, and soon discover a web of lies and unrequited romances none of them ever could have expected.
When Rarity’s friends discover that she has been secretly meeting with an escort, they begin investigating, and soon discover a web of lies and unrequited romances none of them ever could have expected.
Rarity hummed while she worked, fading in and out of vague, tuneless melodies. Her needles slid back and forth together in steady rhythm, needle through loop after loop, row after row of yarn coming together in easy stitches.
There were very few things she enjoyed quite as much as giving a gift to one of her friends. The feeling of pleasant, dry heat on her skin at the sauna, or the precise moment at which unexpected, fleeting inspiration for a new design struck her, perhaps, came close. It was the smiles, always the smiles her friends gave her in return. Simply the knowledge that she was the pony who’d caused those smiles was enough to make any amount of work worthwhile.
She slowed her needles, taking a moment to admire her work. It was a simple affair. A basic scarf. Nearly solid purple wool, not unlike her mane, with an occasional streaking highlight, arranged in rows of loose stitches, designed more for comfort than style. A pony who spent as much time outside as she did would surely appreciate some added protection from the autumn cold. Rarity folded it over with her magic and exchanged her knitting needle for a sewing needle before—
A ring of the door chime interrupted her thoughts. “Just one moment, please,” Rarity called over her shoulder, sliding the needle into the fold. She cocked her head to the side and chewed on her cheek. Perchance it was too simple. Her friends really did deserve the best, especially her. And as much as she valued functionality, perhaps she wouldn’t mind a small taste of extra flair.
“Oh,” a soft voice behind her said. “If you’re busy I can come back later.”
“No,” Rarity said, making sure to smile before turning around and trotting into the front room of Carousel Boutique. “It’s no problem, Fluttershy. Did you need something?”
Fluttershy’s smile mirrored her own as she poked at one of the many dresses on display near the front window. Such a shame she didn’t wear formal dress more often, Rarity thought. Her figure was perfect. “Applejack and I were going to go to the spa today, and I thought you might want to come too.”
“Applejack?” Rarity repeated, eyes coming awake. It hadn’t been long before that Rarity had first convinced the cowpony to visit the spa with her, a treasured memory. They’d both had the most wonderful time together. “I’ll just go grab my shawl, and then I’ll be right out,” Rarity said, turning with a giggle.
“Okay,” Fluttershy said, following her into the work room. “This scarf is lovely.”
Rarity stopped cold at the foot of her stairs. “Scarf?” Oh no…
“I can’t wait to see it when it’s finished.” Fluttershy stroked it delicately, as if it were a wounded rabbit.
Rarity spun around on her hooves, grabbed the scarf up in her magic, and pulled it away from her friend. “I’m so sorry, but I just remembered that I have a very important, eh, prior engagement, and I really must finish all of my work before then.” Rarity flashed one of her most brilliant smiles, hiding the scarf behind her tail.
“Oh, sorry,” Fluttershy said, drawing back a little and lowering her head. “Maybe we could all go a little later then. I’m sure Applejack wouldn’t m—”
“No!” Rarity said too loudly. She flinched at the force of her own voice. “No, I’m afraid I’m much too busy tonight. Perhaps some other time.” She set about feigning keen interest in a nearby spool of linen.
Fluttershy frowned. “Oh, okay then." She turned and walked towards the door, stopped halfway, and turned back around. “Are you okay?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Rarity answered, turning her attention to a stray shred of fabric on the floor.
Fluttershy rubbed the inside of her leg with her hoof. “I just wanted to make sure. You seem a little, um, stressed.” Fluttershy’s head shot up. “Not that you don’t look nice! I just meant that, um—”
“Really, I’m fine,” Rarity said with a wave of her hoof and a strained, hasty laugh.
Fluttershy didn’t answer right away, silently rubbing her leg some more. “Well, alright. See you tomorrow then.”
“Of course,” Rarity replied, her eyes following her friend to the door. A gust of cold air rushed inside as Fluttershy stepped outside and waved goodbye. When she was finally gone, Rarity floated the unfinished scarf back to its place. The needle had fallen out at some point.
She looked between the scarf and Fluttershy’s retreating figure through the window and then back and forth between the two again. “What am I doing?” she asked no one in particular as she searched the floor for the missing needle.
_________________________________________________
Twilight took a breath and focused, not on the toy, but on herself. She looked inside her chest, feeling around in the stifling dark until she touched a familiar warmth, prickly and electric. Its embrace always made her shudder. Slowly, she coaxed a little tendril away and out into the room, poking and prodding into cold, open air, until it discovered the soft faux fur of the miniature pony figurine. Immediately, the warmth surged out along the strand, writhing, twisting, and pulsing around the toy, swallowing it whole. Then, just as quickly as it had come, it rapidly shot back inside her, settling down somewhere deep in her stomach.
She released her breath and smiled at the results of her newest spell. Where before the toy’s coat and mane had been a dull green, now they shined a mix of yellow and crimson. Her smile dropped as she levitated it around. Its eyes, unchanged, had remained a stubborn blue.
She looked up from her seat in the library’s corner and glanced around. There were only two other ponies in the library. Rainbow Dash, lying back with her head on a pillow and staring up at a novel, and a pinkish-red unicorn Twilight didn’t recognize, staring very seriously at a row of books. It struck Twilight that the unicorn didn’t appear to be actually reading any of the titles, simply staring at them between careful, quick glances over her shoulders. If Twilight didn’t already know how little value the library’s books held outside of their knowledge she might have suspected there was a thief in the building.
She sighed and floated her copy of Illusions, Phantasms, and Transfigurations to her hooves. She flipped through its pages, confirming what she had already suspected. She had followed all of the steps correctly. The eyes should have changed too.
“Uh, hey there,” a voice by her side said, breaking her concentration.
Twilight turned around. The pinkish-red unicorn stood before her, smiling strangely and drawing a hoof through her mane again and again. “Uh, you’re the librarian, right?”
“Yes,” Twilight said, putting on her best librarian smile and pushing her own book aside. She made a mental note to request another guide to transformation spells the next time she sent a letter to Princess Celestia. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“I think so,” the mare said, smile growing. “I don’t really do this a lot. I was looking for a romance novel. One with, like, lots of, uh, lots of…” The mare bounced a little on her hooves as she spoke, causing her mane to flit about in her face. “…You know,” the mare finished with a shrug.
Twilight didn’t know. She shook her head. “Are you looking for a specific author?”
“No.” The mare groaned. “Uh, lots of, uh, kissing and… like, physical romance. That’s it! Physical romance,” the mare finished, practically shouting as she grinned. “Oh, and I’m Sugar Sweet.”
“Your mane is really pretty, Twilight Sparkle,” Sugar Sweet interrupted, leaning in a bit too close. Twilight could smell her breath, hot and sugary. She had golden yellow eyes that matched her mane, shining with vibrant and laughing life. “Especially that cute little pink bit in the middle.”
Twilight tried to back away, but found herself pressed up against a table. “Uh, thanks. “Sorr—”
“Can I touch it?”
Twilight blinked. “What?”
“Can I touch your mane?” Sugar Sweet giggled. “I mean, not weird like. It’s just super pretty.”
Twilight blinked again. “…No.”
“Oh, okay,” Sugar Sweet said, not moving away.
Twilight cleared her throat, biting back her irritation while she edged around the still smiling mare and back into the freedom of open space. If there was one thing she had learned about dealing with other ponies, it was patience. “About that book you wanted, I’m sorry, but I’m not very familiar with the genre myself. I’m certain I have a few of the better-known authors in circulation though, if you would like a list.”
“Uh…” Sugar Sweet brought her hoof up to her mane again. “Uh, actually I’m, like, not really looking for a romantic book.”
“Oh?” Twilight tilted her head to the side, her mane falling onto her cheek. “Well, I know my friend Rarity returned one the other day that she seemed to enjoy, if you change your mind.”
“No, I mean I’m not looking for a book at all—wait, Rarity?” Sugar Sweet asked, looking up, her eyes quick and eager.
“Yeah.” Twilight nodded. “Do you know her?”
“Uh-huh, oh.” Sugar Sweet dropped her head and turned away. Twilight noticed that the sides of her coat were bare. She didn’t seem to have any cutie mark. “I mean, no, not really. Kind of, like, a little, I guess.”
“Um… okay?” Twilight tried when it became clear Sugar Sweet wasn’t going to explain. “You said you weren’t looking for a book? Are you looking for something else?”
“Yeah,” Sugar Sweet said, her cheeks going red. “Do you know Applejack? She, like, hangs out around here, right?”
“Sure,” Twilight answered, brightening. “I could introduce you if you wanted.”
“No, no!” Sugar Sweet cried, throwing up her leg as if to shield herself from Twilight’s suggestion. “Don’t tell her I asked! I just, like, I need to, uh, I just wanted to know what she’s like.”
Twilight opened her mouth to reply when she heard the front door open. She turned and watched, as if on cue, the pony in question step inside. Applejack quickly stepped towards her, smiling.
"Hey, Twilight," Applejack said. "Me and Fluttershy are goin' to the spa. Wanna come along?"
“Heh, the spa.” Dash snickered, her face hidden behind her book. “Lame.”
Applejack smirked. “Says the pony readin’ one of Fluttershy’s romance stories.”
Rainbow Dash grunted and pulled the book closer around her head.
"No, sorry," Twilight replied, covering a laugh with her hoof. She turned back around with a start. Sugar Sweet had disappeared. "Uh, I'm having trouble with this spell. I'll probably be up working on it all night."
“Oh well, some other time then. Have you seen Apple Bloom anywhere?” Applejack asked with a frown. “I can't find her anywhere. She's supposed to be cleanin' out the chicken coop.”
“Yeah, Apple Bloom and the girls were here earlier,” Twilight answered, noticing Sugar Sweet back beside the shelf again, eyes carefully trained to book bindings. “They came to see Spike, and then I think they all went over to Fluttershy’s. Something about Cutie Mark Crusaders fire eaters.”
Applejack rolled her eyes. “And you let them go?”
“Well, both Fluttershy and Spike are there too. I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Twilight said, wondering if she should mention the strange conversation she had just had with Sugar Sweet.
Applejack’s smile fell back into the beginnings of a scowl.
“But I can go check on them,” Twilight blurted, “if you’re worried.”
“Hey Twilight,” Sugar Sweet said from behind her, walking towards them with an uneasy smile. “What book did you say Rarity liked?”
“You know Rarity?” Applejack asked before Twilight could make sense of the unicorn’s behavior, her voice dubious. “Prissy unicorn with the dress shop?”
Sugar Sweet dropped her head a little further. “Uh, well, yeah.” Suddenly, her head shot back up, sending her mane lurching behind her in an embarrassingly obvious attempt at surprise. “Oh my gosh! You’re Applejack.”
Applejack’s eyes widened for a moment before narrowing again. “Uh, yeah. Why?”
“Wow.” Sugar Sweet soundlessly moved her jaw back and forth for a moment before continuing. “You’re so pretty. Like, really, really pretty. I didn’t know you’d be so pretty. That makes sense, I guess.”
Applejack didn’t respond. Her face contorted, rapidly flashing between several different emotions before settling somewhere between disgust and anger. “I am not that kind of mare, and neither are any of my friends. You don’t know Rarity. She wouldn’t know somepony like you.”
“I do too! What do you know?” Sugar Sweet stomped her hoof on the ground. “We’re mar—er, friends, and I’m gonna go hang out with her tonight. So there!” She stuck her tongue out at Applejack, whose expression remained unchanged.
Applejack’s jaw rolled back and forth. Twilight thought she could hear a growl. She backed away, preemptively wincing at the coming encounter. But the blowout never came. Instead, Applejack turned with a grunt and a flick of her tail, walking towards where Dash was sitting.
Twilight couldn’t think of a time she had seen her friend more upset. Every one of her muscles was drawn tight like a coiled snake. With the cowpony's back turned away Twilight could only imagine what the glare in her eyes must have looked like.
Sugar Sweet snorted, beaming. “Can I have that book now?” she asked quickly, turning to Twilight.
Twilight mentally debated whether to ask what was happening, glanced between the two, decided against it, and turned to Sugar Sweet. “Yeah, if you’ll follow me, I can get it for you.” Better to wait until Applejack had calmed down before asking questions. She led Sugar Sweet towards her record book and away from impending confrontation.
“Okay, if you could just sign here, I’ll go find it.” Twilight indicated an empty space on the open page before looking to the returns pile. She frowned. In spite of herself, she found her mind searching for a way to decrease the time between the returning of a book and its re-shelving. The returned books really should have been organized by then.
“Alrighty,” Sugar Sweet said, surprisingly chipper. If her spat with Applejack had upset her, she did an impressive job of hiding it. “Done.”
Twilight nodded and floated the novel Rarity had returned the day before, From Dusk, out of the pile. Suddenly, another force tore it from her aura’s grip, forcibly pulling it to Sugar Sweet.
The other unicorn ripped it open, excitedly flipping through the pages, but not resting on any one passage long enough to actually read. “You said Rarity liked this, right? I bet it’s really good then.”
“Mm hmm.” Twilight nodded. “I think she enjoyed it.”
Abruptly, Sugar Sweet dropped the book into one of her saddlebags. “I need to go. It was really nice meeting you though.” Sugar Sweet smiled.
Twilight glanced at Applejack before smiling back. “Yeah, you too.”
“See you around.” Sugar Sweet trotted out the door, the book back out of her saddlebag again and floating before her.
Twilight slowly walked to where Rainbow Dash was shooing Applejack away as she searched for the best way to broach the subject without further angering her friend.
“Could you go look angry someplace else? I’m trying to read here,” Dash said, annoyed.
“I’m not angry,” Applejack growled under her breath, obstinately standing in Rainbow Dash’s reading space.
“So…” Twilight let out a little laugh that didn’t sound quite right. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard Rarity mention Sugar Sweet before. I wonder how long they’ve known each other...”
“That’s because Rarity doesn’t know Sugar Sweet. She lied,” Applejack said simply.
Twilight bit her lip. “Oh. I wonder why she doesn’t have a cutie mark.”
“Because only ponies get cutie marks,” Applejack replied. “She’s just filth.”
Twilight cocked her head to the side. She tried and failed to recall a time she’d heard her friend say something so awful about another pony. “How do you know she lied?”
Applejack snorted. “It’s just what she does. She’s a liar by trade.”
“Seriously, I’m trying to read.” Rainbow Dash groaned from her place between them. “Go somewhere else.”
“By trade?” Twilight asked, stepping away from the cyan hoof swatting at her legs.
“She’s an escort.” Applejack spat out that last word like a thick lump of snot that had caught in her throat.
“Oh...” Twilight sighed. She hated ignorance. And, far more than that, she hated being ignorant. “So, what does she escort?”
Rainbow Dash groaned again and Applejack looked at her like she’d just declared that apples were a vegetable. “Don’t you know what an escort is?”
Twilight looked up into the corners of her eyelids. “Escort. Noun. A group of ponies, or a single pony, accompanying another or others for protection, guidance, or courtesy: An escort of sailors accompanied the Princess.”
This time Rainbow Dash snickered and Applejack facehoofed. “Sugarcube, no. She’s a”—she leaned in close, whispering conspiratorially, as if they weren’t the only three ponies in the building—“mare of the evening.”
“A what?”
Applejack sighed and pulled back. “Twilight, please don’t make me say it.”
“Say what?”
“She’s a hooker,” Rainbow Dash said bluntly, not looking up from her book. “Go talk about it somewhere else.”
Twilight smiled at what she assumed was a joke, but her smile fell when Applejack’s frown stayed put. “What? But she seemed so nice.”
“Exactly,” Applejack growled. “Wolves in sheep’s clothing.”
"But how do you know?" Twilight asked, looking between her two friends.
"Seriously, Twilight?" Dash asked, sounding bored. "Everypony knows about Sugar Sweet. You really need to get out more."
“So you think she was lying about knowing Rarity?”
Applejack turned her glare on Twilight. “Do you think Rarity, the pony who hates all things dirty, would ever sink low enough to associate with somepony who wriggles around in the dirt for a livin’?”
“What do you care if Rarity’s seeing a hooker?” Dash asked, still not looking up from her book. "Who cares what she does when she's in bed?"
For a moment, Twilight was certain Applejack was going to kick the book out from between the pegasus’s hooves. “I care, and you should too. Those kinds of ponies are dangerous. I refuse to believe that somepony I call my friend would ever have anything to do with somepony like that.”
“Well, whatever.” Dash shrugged. “She said she was going to go see Rarity tonight.”
“She lied.”
“I don’t know.” Twilight brought a hoof to her chin. “Why would she lie about something like that?”
“How should I know?” Applejack spat. “They’ve got no integrity. They’d say anything to get a few bits.”
“I’m sorry,” Twilight said, pointing her hoof at nothing in particular. “I don’t think Rarity would ever do… that, but it didn’t seem like Sugar Sweet was lying either.”
“Then go there,” Dash said, waving a hoof in the general direction of the door.
Applejack paused. “What?”
Dash finally looked up from her book, letting it drop onto her chest. “Go talk loud at Rarity’s right in her face while she’s trying to read. If Sugar Sweet doesn’t show up, you win.” Dash lifted her book back up. "Ugh, I lost my space."
Applejack looked between her two friends before flicking her tail to the side. “Fine. We’ll go ask Rarity herself. She’ll tell you the exact same thing.” She quickly turned and walked up to the door, holding it open with one hoof. “Twilight.”
Twilight shrugged and followed her friend out the door and into the dark. “See you later, Rainbow.”
“Hey, wait up!” Dash called behind them. Twilight glanced over her shoulder to see the pegasus hovering towards them, the book left forgotten on the floor. “I’ll come too.”
“I thought you were too busy readin’ your sappy book?” Applejack almost smirked.
“I’m not gonna sit in the library all by myself.”
“Owlowiscious is upstairs,” Twilight said, pointing to the second floor window.
Dash grimaced. “I said ponies.”
Twilight raised a brow at that. “You didn’t say anything about ponies.”
Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Whatever, I’m going too.”
Twilight shrugged and cantered to catch up with Applejack, who had already begun walking in the direction of Carousel Boutique. Twilight fell in step beside the earth pony, hearing Rainbow Dash fluttering somewhere behind her. A cold breeze swirled around them, and Twilight, shivering, soon regretted not bringing any warmer clothing. Applejack trudged on, seemingly unaffected.
“I promised Pinkie I would help her give Gummy a bath tonight,” she said as she rose higher into the air. “I’ll be right back!” she cried, somersaulting and darting off in the opposite direction.
Twilight paused for a moment to watch her leave. Nose tilted over her head, she quickly lost sight of her friend in the starless, cloud-filled sky. A few little flickers of moonlight glinted through cracks in the clouds, leaving the road in darkness save for a handful of glowing streetlamps. Applejack shrugged at Twilight and continued walking.
Applejack didn’t talk, which told Twilight more than enough. Though, she wasn’t precisely sure what it was that it told her. Something was wrong, but she didn't understand what. She walked carefully behind her friend, listening to the rhythmic clatter of hooves on stone. The cold had scared most ponies indoors for the night, and the few that were out rushed by with little more than a nod in passing greeting. Twilight picked up her own pace.
“It sure is chilly out.”
“I suppose.” Applejack didn’t look back.
Twilight opened her mouth to try once more, but almost immediately closed it again. Yellow light shone behind windows on either side like flushed eyes peering down at the two ponies trotting in the dark. Occasionally, a blurry outline would pass behind one of the windows, sending long shadows and fleeting, muffled laughter sprawling over the street.
She trotted up beside Applejack. "Back at the library you said ponies like Sugar Sweet were dangerous. What did you mean? You don't think she'll hurt somepony, do you?"
"I think I was mighty clear," Applejack said curtly.
Twilight paused. "Does it have to do why you're so angry about this?"
Applejack stopped abruptly, her neck bristling.
"I'm sorry!" Twilight said quickly, feeling another chill sweep over her back. "I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
Applejack dropped her head, blowing a long sigh out her snout, misty white breath falling from her mouth. "No, I should have said something before... It's just..." She looked back up, her mouth set in a grim frown. "They ruin families. My Uncle Russet... he was a plum idiot, ignorin' the mare he already had for some scummy floozies. My cousins and poor Auntie cried for weeks."
"I'm sorry," Twilight said, offering her friend a nuzzle.
"It's not me you should be feelin' sorry for." Applejack pulled away, walking forward.
Twilight frowned as she followed her friend. "She said she was looking for you. Sugar Sweet, I mean."
"Why?"
"She didn't say. She wanted to know what you were like."
"Hmmm..." was Applejack's only reply, marching on.
The pair rounded a corner and Carousel Boutique was in sight. The showy, multi-floored building stood burning bright like a challenge to the surrounding cold. Applejack trotted up to the front door and roughly knocked on the wood. Barely a moment later, the door swung open.
“Applejack!” Rarity smiled brightly, her coat shining and extravagant, a sharp contrast to the dark around her. Twilight had never noticed just how similar to her home the other unicorn looked. “You’re early.”
Applejack’s forehead creases crumpled together. “You were expectin’ us?”
“Why, of course I—” Rarity’s eyes fell on Twilight, apparently noticing her for the first time. Her smile disappeared.
Twilight waved. “Hey, Rarity. Can we come in?”
Rarity rapidly looked back and forth between them for a moment before smiling again. “No, no, no. I’m very sorry, but I’m expecting an, eh, important client soon. Yes, an important client, and I simply don’t have the time to entertain guests at the moment.” She began inching the door shut.
Applejack’s forehead crumpled further and further. “But I thought you said—”
“No, no.” Rarity laughed. “I’m sorry, but I really am much too busy at the moment. Perhaps another time. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The door slammed shut. Applejack stood, silently regarding the closed door, as if it was responsible for all of her frustration, before slowly turning around.
“Well, that was strange,” Twilight said.
Applejack grunted in reply, walking back down the road.
“So…” Twilight fell in step beside her. “Rarity said she was meeting a client tonight…”
“Mm hmm.” Applejack kept her muzzle pointed straight forward as she walked.
“And Sugar Sweet said she was meeting Rarity tonight…”
“Mm hmm.”
“Maybe Sugar Sweet is just one of Rarity’s customers,” Twilight said, slowing down a little. “That would explain everything.”
“Maybe.”
Twilight looked to her friend, but Applejack didn’t say anything more. She sighed and settled for examining the ground around her hooves. She stepped on a smooth rock, well-worn and packed into the dirt—
“Move!” Applejack hissed into her ear.
Before Twilight had a chance to ask what her friend meant, she abruptly felt two hooves on her side, pushing her over into a bush. The branches scratched at her cold coat and legs, and made a mess of her mane.
“Applejack!” Twilight cried, spitting leaves out of her mouth. “What was that for?”
“Shhh.” Applejack pointed out at a pony walking up the road. “It’s her.”
Twilight leaned forward a little and brushed a branch away from her eyes. Sure enough, Sugar Sweet trotted by carrying a pair of saddlebags down the same path they had just come from. She hummed happily as she went, practically skipping, oblivious to the cold and the two ponies watching her from inside a bush beside the road.
Twilight watched until the skipping pony was out of earshot. It was hard not to smile at the cheerful unicorn. “You know,” she turned to Applejack, “she could be going anywhere.”
“Maybe.”
“And even if she is—”
“Why are you guys sitting in a bush?”
Twilight yelped at the unexpected voice and jumped out onto the road. Standing in front of her were Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie.
“Oh, were we supposed to surprise you? Surprise!” Pinkie cried, throwing her forelegs into the air.
Twilight took a deep breath to calm her nerves. The cool, dry air bit at her throat and snout. When she looked again, she realized that it was really only Rainbow Dash who was standing in front of her. She looked like she’d just been dragged through a shower. Water and soap suds dripped down her coat and off shining strands of her mane.
Pinkie, significantly drier, was sprawled over the pegasus’s back. Her hooves dangled, straddling down Dash’s sides, not quite touching the ground. Twilight turned. Sugar Sweet was still absentmindedly half-skipping down the road.
“Are you looking for an ice cream sandwich?” Pinkie asked, patting Rainbow Dash on the head. “I found one in a bush once.”
“No,” Twilight answered, watching Applejack crawl out from beneath the leaves. “Sugar Sweet just walked by.”
One of Dash’s soaking brows climbed up her forehead. “So?”
“We didn’t want her to see us,” Twilight said.
“Why?” Dash asked.
“Because…” Twilight searched the ground for an answer, quickly realizing that she didn’t have the slightest clue why they didn’t want Sugar Sweet to see them. She looked to Applejack for the answer, who promptly ignored her.
“Were you playing hide and seek?” Pinkie asked. “I played hide and seek with her once. She was really bad.”
“You know Sugar Sweet?” Applejack scowled, looking at Pinkie.
Pinkie giggled. “Duh, I know everypony.”
Applejack chewed on her cheek for a moment before turning her scowl onto Dash. “Why did you bring her?”
“Bring who?” Dash shook her head to the side, flinging water every direction.
Applejack rolled her eyes. “Her,” she said, pointing up at Pinkie.
“I didn’t bring her,” Dash replied, still trying to shake water out of her mane.
“She’s sittin’ on your back!” Applejack cried, her voice rising.
It was Rainbow Dash’s turn to roll her eyes. “It’s not like I put her there.”
Twilight sighed and turned just in time to see Sugar Sweet round the corner onto Carousel Boutique’s road.
Applejack rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes. “Whatever, let’s go.” She quickly trotted towards the corner Sugar Sweet had just turned onto, Twilight and Dash following close behind, Pinkie readjusting her rump on Dash’s back.
When they reached the corner, they stopped, looking around its bend. Carousel Boutique shined just as brightly as before, and Sugar Sweet stood before it, a vibrant painting in its light.
Applejack made a pitiful noise like she’d been bucked in the gut.
Sugar Sweet stood perfectly still a few steps from its door, her eyes closed and horn coming to life. At first, it was just a faint glimmer, but it grew, brighter and brighter, until it rivaled the light from the dress shop. Then the light passed from her horn and curled down Sugar Sweet’s neck. It spiraled across her withers, down her legs, over her flank, and to the tip of her tail, until it covered her body like a cloak.
Twilight gasped. “That’s a transformation spell!”
The light dispersed, fizzling and dying in the cold air. Sugar Sweet smiled, showing off a new set of freckles. Her coat had turned a familiar orange, and three red apples had appeared on her flank. She opened her saddlebag and floated out two red hair bands, tying them around her tail and mane. Finally, she pulled a brown stetson hat out of her other bag and set it crookedly on her head, hiding her horn. The only hint that the pony in front of them wasn’t Applejack was her yellow eyes.
Applejack remained silent. Twilight couldn’t even tell if she was still breathing.
Sugar Sweet trotted up to Carousel Boutique’s front step and knocked on the door, smiling.
The door swung open, and Rarity smiled back.
“Howdy, beautiful!” The other-Applejack said in the most exaggerated accent Twilight had ever heard. “May Ah come in?”
“Of course,” Rarity said, moving aside to let the other mare in. “It’s so nice to see you, Applejack.”
The other-Applejack walked in and kicked the door shut behind her.
For a long time, no one said anything. They stood where they were, stealing quick glances between Applejack and the closed door. Applejack was the first to speak.
Rarity smiled and watched Applejack. It was nice to be able to simply sit and watch her without having to pretend to be looking at something else when Applejack noticed. She was beautiful. It wasn’t something Rarity had noticed right away. She was pretty, certainly, in a rustic sort of way. But it had taken Rarity a long time to notice just how effortlessly stunning her friend was. Applejack didn’t have to hide behind makeup or hair products. All she had to do was tie her mane up into a ponytail and smile.
“Whatcha’ thinkin’ about?” Applejack asked, shaking off the cold and hopping onto the sofa with a bounce. Rarity’s many supplies and fabrics had been cleared from the room, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of being lost somewhere barren and unfamiliar.
“Do you know that you’re gorgeous?” Rarity sighed. “I don’t understand how or why, but you are perfect.”
Applejack smiled. “Ah think you’re beautiful too.” She slid off the couch, walked to Rarity, and leaned forward.
Rarity sighed again. Applejack kept leaning forward, her breath shallow. Rarity watched her come, trying to understand how she felt. At the last moment, she turned her head away.
“I made you something,” she said, quickly trotting past and away from Applejack.
Applejack stood still for a brief second before turning around, unfazed. “Awesome!”
Rarity floated the ribbon topped box from its place behind the counter and over to the other mare. “It’s not my best work, but I hope that it will keep you warm, at the very least.”
“Ah’m sure it’ll be great.” Applejack looked queerly down at the box in front of her hooves for a long moment, scratching at something underneath her hat. “Oh, right!” she said, bending down and grabbing the ribbon in her teeth, pulling at it so hard she nearly slung the entire box into the air. She lifted up the lid and gasped with far more theatrics than the gift was due. “It’s perfect!”
Rarity allowed herself a small smile. “I’m glad you like it.” Correction: there was nothing she enjoyed as much as giving a gift to one of her friends. Absolutely nothing.
“I love it so much when you make things for me.” Applejack stopped twisting the scarf around her neck and looked up at Rarity. “I’ve been practicing knitting and sewing, like, a ton. Soon I’ll be able to give you something too.”
Rarity’s smile fell. “But Applejack, you don’t enjoy sewing, remember?”
“Oh… right,” Applejack said, scarf slipping down her neck. Suddenly, she smiled like a cat who’s just spotted a mouse. “But Ah reckon there’s something Ah can give ya’.”
And then Applejack struck, rough lips mashed against Rarity’s own. Rarity almost gave in; she almost wanted to, until she noticed Applejack’s half lidded, sickly, golden yellow eyes. She gagged, choking on her own tongue. It was always the eyes that spoiled it.
“Is something wrong?” Applejack—but only when Rarity closed her eyes—asked, pulling back and frowning worriedly.
Rarity spun her hooves in tight circles round and round each other. “I think I might be a bad pony,” she said, so quietly she doubted Applejack even heard.
“What? No way!” Applejack cried, her eyes swelling with surprise. “Why would you even say that?”
Rarity waved one of her spinning hooves in the air to illustrate the obvious.
Applejack squinted at her. “No way,” she repeated, sounding hurt. “We’re friends, right? How could anypony say you’re bad just for hanging out with your friend? Besides, you’re, like, the nicest pony I’ve ever met. And I really do think you’re beautiful too,” Applejack finished with a glare Rarity could only describe as comical.
Rarity shrugged. Nice. “You shouldn’t say ‘like’ so often, it’s an entirely meaningless and superfluous word.” Twilight had told her that once.
Applejack stayed silent for some time. Rarity didn’t mind. She felt so nice, lying to all of her friends. That was something nice ponies did.
“Why did the skeleton go to the movie theatre alone?”
Rarity looked at her, confused. “What?”
“Why did the skeleton go to the movie theatre alone?” Applejack asked again, rolling her eyes. “Come on, it’s easy!”
Rarity paused. “I… I don’t have any idea.”
Applejack’s face split open in a magnificent smile. “Because he had nobody to go with him!”
At first, Rarity didn’t respond. Then she tried and miserably failed to keep her mouth set in a frown. Small giggles overtook her, and she soon laughed outright. She fell forward, laughing loud and obnoxious in a display any of the Canterlot elite would have labeled crude. Her chest hurt and she probably looked ridiculous, and she didn’t care.
“That was awful,” Rarity finally managed when she could catch a breath.
Applejack wrapped her forelegs around Rarity’s neck in a loose embrace. She smiled, their snouts touching. “You still laughed though.”
For a moment, Rarity saw green instead of yellow. She closed her eyes, resting her forehead on Applejack’s, pleasant and warm.
Knocking at the door broke her attention.
“Rarity!”
She saw yellow. Their heads turned away and to the door in unison. Sounds of a struggle and muffled voices Rarity couldn’t quite place came from beyond the door, then knocking again. This time it was pounding, like the pony on the other side was throwing their full weight against the wood.
“Rarity!” a familiar voice yelled. “Open this door right now.”
Rarity looked to Applejack, terror and confusion swirling together in a horrible soup in her stomach. Rarity pushed her away. “Hide,” she hissed.
Applejack nodded and darted out of the room. Rarity did her best to compose herself and slowly walked into the front room and up to door, thinking, please no, please no.
More pounding. “Rarity, I know you’re in there!”
Rarity slowly cracked the door open just wide enough to see who was on the other side. No, no, no.
Applejack shoved the door open with both of her legs and stomped inside. “What the hay is goin’ on in here?”
“Whatever do you mean?” she heard herself say. Her other friends sat on the ground outside the door, all in varying states of out-of-breath.
“Applejack, stop,” Twilight said. Rarity could only guess at the meaning.
Applejack whirled around to face Rarity, eyes narrowed to slits. “Don’t lie to me. Where is she?”
Rarity considered dying right where she stood. “I—I don’t know what—”
“Tell me you didn’t hire some whore to dress up like me,” Applejack snarled, leaning so close Rarity could have kissed her, but that would have been inappropriate. “To make me into your sick little plaything so you could do Tartarus only knows what to me.”
Rarity stared down at the floor. It felt like one part of her was somewhere far away from the rest, somewhere she had more important things to consider than the furious Applejack standing in front of her and the lurking Applejack hiding in the other room. She’d had the same rug laid out on the floor since she moved in. Right then, she decided it was time to buy a new carpet.
Applejack, apparently, interpreted her stare differently. “Disgusting!” she cried, reeling back and then advancing again just as quickly. “Rarity, why? Of all ponies, how could you do something so—so ugly?”
Rarity shrugged. Applejack was right. It really was a very ugly carpet. What had she been thinking?
Applejack paced back and forth in front of her, the very definition of seething. Rarity swore she could hear her growl.
“You’re ugly!” Sugar Sweet yelled, appearing in the backroom doorway, still proudly shining orange. Rarity made up her mind. She would die right there and then on that appalling carpet. “What kind of friend would say something like that? You’re just a jerk.”
Applejack’s legs shook. “You shut up.”
Rarity noticed that her legs were shaking too, so she sat down.
The yellow-eyed Applejack standing in the doorway smirked. “No wonder she likes me more. I wouldn’t wanna be around you either.”
“Who the hay do you think you are?” Applejack asked, twitching her tail up and down. “Don’t ever compare me to you.”
Rarity looked between them. Which one did she want to hide from? She couldn’t remember anymore.
The other-Applejack’s smirk fell. “What makes you so much better than me? What makes ponies like you so different from ponies like me?”
“No,” Applejack said, throwing a leg through the air. “I don’t tear parents apart. I don’t wreck families. I’m not a whore.”
“I am not a whore!” The other-Applejack stamped her hoof on the ground. “I’m an escort.”
Applejack laughed. She actually laughed. Rarity had never heard a more hideous sound. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but tumbled down into fits of laughter instead.
She turned, still laughing, and walked away. Her tail bobbed over Rarity’s head, by the other-Applejack, out the door, swishing past her friends, down the street, and into the dark. Rarity could still hear the laugh long after she could no longer see its source.
Rarity stared at the floor. She had read recently that knotted carpets were currently in style. Some shade of red would complement the walls nicely. Crimson, perhaps.
“Hey, Rarity?” She felt a reassuring hoof on her shoulder. “It’s okay, you know. I don’t think you’re disgusting at all.”
Rarity looked up to thank her friend. But when she opened her eyes it wasn’t her friend at all. Her friends were all still sitting in the doorway, staring wide-eyed at her, murmuring among themselves. Rarity didn’t think they’d moved an inch since she’d last seen them. Instead, she saw yellow eyes. Looking at them, Rarity saw everything that had just happened, heard everything that had been said.
“Um, I think, like, this might be my fault. I went and talked to Applejack before—”
“You did what?”
Sugar Sweet dropped her head. “I’m sorry, I just—”
“Don’t touch me!” she shrieked, knocking the hoof away and standing up. “You are disgusting. This is your fault. You’ve ruined everything!”
“What?” Sugar Sweet’s face twisted together, her mouth open. “That’s not fair! You called me.”
Rarity smelled the sweet scent of vindication. “Exactly. You’re a pariah spreading your sickness to everypony you touch. You bent my neck around until I couldn’t see straight anymore. You’re just a worm sniveling in the dirt.”
“Oh yeah?” Sugar Sweet took a long, shaky breath, her eyes glistening with falling moisture. “At least I’m not so sad that I have to pay somepony else to like me—”
“Shut up!” Rarity screamed. “Shut up, shut up, shut up. I hate you. You’ve destroyed everything I loved, and I hate you. You pathetic and stupid worm. I’ve never seen anything uglier in all my life. A filthy pig has more grace than you.”
Sugar Sweet opened her mouth, her chest heaving. Then her knees buckled and she slumped, crumbling down onto the floor like a small, old roof beneath too much snow. She closed her eyes.
Rarity looked down at her and almost cried. Everything had gone wrong, and suddenly she didn’t have any Applejacks left. She turned to the door, saying, “No, no, no, no, no….” Brusquely, she trotted out the door.
“Where are you going?” Rainbow Dash asked as she passed by, but Rarity’s only answer was to quicken her pace to a gallop.
Rainbow Dash turned to follow her, but Twilight grabbed her tail to hold her back. For a long while Rarity’s three friends stood where they were in the cold air, listening to Sugar Sweet sob on the floor. Finally, Pinkie Pie put on a smile, nodded to Twilight and Rainbow Dash, and walked up to the crying pony.
“Hey,” she said, placing a hoof on Sugar Sweet’s shivering withers. “Berry Punch made a super huge order of donuts today, but Mrs. Cake wrote down the wrong number and made it an even super-er huger-er-er order. So we had a bunch of extra donuts today and Mrs. Cake said I could have them, but I haven’t yet because I wanted to share them with somepony. So,” Pinkie’s smile widened, “wanna go to Sugarcube Corner with me and eat some donuts?”
Sugar Sweet shook her head.
“Aww…” Pinkie scrunched her nose up and then smiled again. “But they’re really tasty, with sprinkles and icing and chocolate filling. And you can have as many as you want, and I bet you’ll love them!”
Sugar Sweet sniffed. “Okay,” she said, quietly standing up.
“Super!” Pinkie bounced in a circle around her and then lead Sugar Sweet out the door, nodding to Twilight and Rainbow Dash again as she went. Sugar Sweet kept her head down.
Twilight watched them go for a moment before closing the door, standing lost on the doorstep. “What do we do now?”
Rainbow Dash shrugged. “Eat some donuts, I guess.”
Twilight shrugged too, walking beside the pegasus, following Pinkie from a safe distance.
Pinkie bounced Sugar Sweet on the flank and giggled, her voice echoing off the quiet walls of dark houses. “Hey, why did the skeleton go to the movie theater alone?”
________________________________________________
Applejack had nothing to do, so she walked to the mantel. The hearth beneath it cast orange, red, and yellow shadows over the ceiling and walls, the only light in the room. She kept walking until the heat singed her legs and chest. She had swept and washed the floors, wiped the counters, reorganized the pantry and cupboards, dusted behind the furniture, washed the window panes, and even cleaned the brim of her hat.
She had nothing left to do, so she turned around and walked back past the sofa, the same sofa that had been sitting in the Apple living room as long as she could remember, since she’d been a filly. Her earliest foalhood memories were of sitting in Granny’s lap on the chair, listening to the then not-quite-as-old mare’s stories. She tried sitting down, but immediately stood back up.
She walked to the shelf on the opposite side. The fire’s light faded to little more than a glow on that side of the room, and she could only just barely feel its heat on the tip of her tail. She could still make out the pictures cluttered on its boards. In one, she, Big Mac, Granny, and Apple Bloom smiling at the beginning of cider season, in another was the last family reunion, another of Granny still barely more than a filly, and finally one of Twilight, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy at the Grand Galloping Gala. And Rarity.
She turned and walked past the sofa, back to the warmth of the fire. She needed to do something, so she turned back around and walked past the sofa again to the shelf. And then back to the fire again. She continued, in and out and into the cold, until she spotted her brother watching her through the doorway.
“Is Apple Bloom asleep?” she asked, stopping halfway between the couch and the shelf.
Big Mac nodded. “Eeyup.”
“You know she skipped her chores to go ruin one of Fluttershy’s chicken coops? Fluttershy told me on my way back.”
“Eeyup.”
“Make sure she goes over to apologize first thing in the mornin’.”
“Eeyup.”
Applejack walked the rest of the way to the shelf, and turned to the door. “She’s still out there, isn’t she?”
Big Mac glanced over his shoulder. “Eeyup.”
“Well,” Applejack said, walking past the couch, “let her stay out there.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
Big Mac swallowed. “Because…?”
Applejack’s tail flicked at the air. “Exactly.”
Big Mac took a step towards the front door.
Applejack stopped. “Where’re you going?”
Big Mac passed her a calm stare. “What’d she do?”
“I don’t wanna know. She’s been lookin’ at me, and thinkin’—ugh.” Applejack shuddered.
Big Mac took another step towards the door.
“Don’t let her in here!”
Big Mac whirled full around. “I’m not leavin’ some poor filly to cry alone on our doorstep.”
He began walking to the door again, and Applejack groaned. “Fine,” she said, stomping past him and into the narrow hallway. “Just let me take care of it.”
He nodded to her as she pushed the front door open. Rarity sat on her haunches on the ground, whimpering and shivering like a stray dog. Applejack almost grabbed the pathetic looking unicorn and pulled her inside out of the cold on impulse, but quickly bit the instinct back. Rarity looked up.
“Rarity, please go home before you freeze to death.” Applejack closed the door.
When she turned around, Big Mac was waiting for her. He scowled at her, disapproval obvious on his face. Applejack groaned again. “Fine, okay. I’ll take care of it.”
She opened the door again. Rarity still sat in the same spot. “You’re not gonna leave until you’ve said your piece, are you?” Applejack asked.
Rarity shook her head, keeping her bleary, red-rimmed eyes trained on the ground.
Applejack sighed. “Well, come on then.”
Rarity made a squeaking sound and began lifting herself up onto shaking legs. Almost immediately, she fell back down into the dust again. Applejack saw a single tear slip down her cheek.
Applejack wanted to knock her own head into the wall. Whatever else the unicorn was, she was a hurting pony, and she was her friend. And Applejack had ignored her. She grabbed Rarity in her hooves and pulled her up, allowing her to lean, stumbling, against her as they walked into the house. She felt like ice against Applejack’s coat.
“Go get some hot cider,” Applejack told her brother as she walked by him, ignoring his glare. Though Applejack knew she probably deserved it. He nodded and walked the other way.
Applejack slowly lead Rarity into the living room, being careful to make sure she didn’t fall, and rested her in front of the fire. Rarity mumbled a thank you. Applejack took a step back to examine her.
Rarity looked as bad as Applejack had ever seen her. Worse even than when she’d arrived in Ponyville riding on a handcar with Pinkie Pie, half-delirious and covered in sweat and dust. It wasn’t so much her looks this time though. Besides the sniveling and shaking, her mane was still meticulously groomed and her coat still nearly untouched by dirt. It was something else that Applejack couldn’t quite put her hoof on. She looked empty, washed out.
Big Mac arrived in the doorway carrying a blanket and a cup of cider on his back. He helped Applejack wrap the blanket around Rarity and set the cup on the floor in front of her before promptly walking away. Rarity, only her head popping out over the blanket, picked the cup up in her magic and took a dainty sip.
“Feelin’ any better?” Applejack asked, standing away from her.
Rarity nodded, the shaking having desisted, and took another sip of her cider in the warm flush of the fire. Her white coat shined, hoarding its light and leaving the rest of the room in cold darkness.
“Need anything else? Some shampoo or somethin’?”
Rarity shook her head.
“Well, out with it then,” Applejack said, much more harshly than she had intended. “Say what you came here to say.”
Rarity shifted about beneath the blanket. “I’m sorry.” She said it so quietly Applejack probably could have pretended she hadn’t heard.
Applejack paced to the shelf and back. “Do you think sayin’ sorry will fix everything?”
“No.” Rarity sniffed. “But I don’t know what else to do.”
Applejack held in a groan and turned around. “You could start by explainin’ what the hay was goin’ on back there.”
“Alright,” Rarity said with a nod and took a long, slow drink of her cider before setting the empty mug on the floor in front of her, glinting in the firelight. “I really like you, Applejack.” She sighed. “I don’t know when it started. Maybe it was when we put on the Hearth’s Warming Eve play in Canterlot and I realized how beautiful you really are. You let your mane down, just for a moment while changing your costume. You look simply magnificent when you let your mane down. I always knew you were pretty, but you were wearing the silliest outfit.” Rarity chuckled.
“It didn’t matter though,” she continued, looking to Applejack. “You were gorgeous anyway. It doesn’t matter what you wear or where you are, you’re always beautiful. It’s incredible, really. And then as soon as I realized, I simply couldn’t help myself. The more I thought, the more I liked you, and I couldn’t stop thinking. You’re always so nice to me, and so, so kind. Every little favor and smile you gave me seemed special somehow. I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.” She passed Applejack a wan smile over the folds of her blanket.
Applejack turned her head away, closely probing the brim of her hat. “And what does any of that have to do with what you were doin’ back there?”
“I’m not stupid.” Applejack didn’t look to see, but she could hear Rarity’s smile fall. “Whatever anypony else says, I’m not. I know you don’t have any feelings for me. How could you? How could you ever love somepony like me? I’m nothing you could want in a mare. Even if you pretend I don't, I know that I annoy you sometimes. A lot of times.”
Applejack chewed the inside of her cheek so hard it hurt.
“And it isn’t fair,” Rarity hissed. “I’m beautiful. I know I am. Ever since I was a filly, I’ve waited to find my special somepony, dreaming about him. But I’ve spent so many nights alone just—just wishing I had somepony, anypony to be with me. Of anypony, I need—I deserve this. You’re so caring, and thoughtful, and strong. You’re everything I ever dreamed a lover could be.”
Rarity sniffled. “But I know I don’t live in a fairy tale. So I thought, maybe just for a little while, it would be okay if I pretended that you liked me too, and we were happy together. I wasn’t hurting anypony.”
Applejack stood with her back turned away, listening to the crackling fire. She turned around, fighting back a scowl. “How long have you been seeing her?”
“…It’s been quite a while now.” Rarity looked at the floor.
“Did you sleep with her?”
Rarity wiggled a little, collapsing the sides of the blanket. “Well, we did have… flourishes, on occasion.”
Applejack groaned and rubbed her sore cheek. She shook her head, as if she could simply refuse and cast off everything she had seen and heard that night. “Rarity,” she finally said, “I don’t know what to say to you. What you’ve done is just gross.” She did her best to soften her features. “But I care about you. You’re a part of my family, and I guess I just thought you were better than this.”
Rarity sniffed again.
“I’m sorry if I led you on somehow,” Applejack continued. “I don’t think about that kind of stuff often, and I’m sure I could have without realizing. That doesn’t give you any right to use me like that though.”
“I know,” Rarity replied, nodding. “I’m sorry.”
Applejack grunted and readjusted her hat. “You don’t have to keep apologizin’, sugarcube. What’s done is done, and there’s nothin’ anypony can do about it now. It’s best that we’ve gotten this out in the open. Nothing good comes from keeping secrets all trapped up and souring in our chests.”
Rarity looked up, her eyes catching orange light from the dying fire. “So, you accept my apology then?”
Applejack sighed. “I… I don’t know. I just need some time to think about all this.”
“Oh, okay. I should go,” Rarity said quickly. She twisted her legs around, untangling herself from the blanket, nearly falling over. She stood up and trotted out of the room.
Applejack followed her, stopping by the front door. “Rarity, one more thing.”
“Yes?” Rarity asked, doing an impressive job of looking like everything was okay.
“Please promise me you won’t go see that mare again, for your own sake.”
Rarity opened the door and paused in the chill. “I promise,” she muttered.
“Good,” Applejack said with a smile. “Just go home and rest, eat some fancy food, wash your hair. This’ll work out. Soon enough, we’ll both be lookin’ back on this and laughing.”
Rarity nodded brusquely and walked out into the empty yard, the only thing that moved on Sweet Apple Acres besides the swaying trees.
“Rarity,” Applejack called out when the unicorn reached the path leading out of the farm.
“What?” Rarity asked, not doing nearly as good a job of looking like everything was okay.
The steam gently swirled and rolled through the air between them, lulling Rarity into a comfortable stupor. Moisture trickled down the wooden walls, slipped over her mane, and along her coat. She took a deep breath, and warmth went flowing down her throat and throughout her chest. She closed her eyes and rested her head back against the wall.
“So… we just sit here?”
Rarity smiled and peeked at Applejack, who was fidgeting back and forth on the opposite bench, wiping water away from her eyes.
“Yes.” Rarity smiled. “And relax.”
Applejack shifted back and forth in her seat for a few moments before speaking up again. “What exactly is supposed to be happenin’ right now?”
Rarity sighed. “The steam opens up your pores, which in turn improves your blood flow and flushes away toxins. It’ll make your coat look absolutely magnificent.”
Applejack snorted, sending steam twisting around her snout. “And how long does that take?”
“Let the steam settle,” Rarity replied, taking another deep breath and allowing the steam to soothe her throat.
“Is there something else we can do besides the sauna?”
“This is a steam room, saunas are dry.” Rarity lifted her head up to look at Applejack through the bleary haze, her mane clinging to the wall behind her. “If you aren’t going to get a massage, you at least have to do this. You promised me you would spend one day at the spa,” Rarity said, putting on her best pout.
“Fine, fine,” Applejack said, leaning back against the wall. “How long does it take?”
“You have to relax first,” Rarity said, stifling a giggle and a smirk. "Otherwise, nothing will happen."
“I thought that was the whole point.”
Rarity chuckled. “You have to allow it to relax you. Really, when was the last time you had a break? You work all day, but when do you ever take a little time to treat yourself?”
“Can’t argue with that, I guess.”
Rarity allowed herself a small smirk. “And you should really let your mane down.”
Applejack frowned and ran a hoof through her ponytail, stopping at the red band binding her hair. “Nah, I’m fine.”
Rarity shrugged and settled into her seat. “If you’re sure.”
They fell into a pleasant quiet, listening to the hissing steam fill the room and the slow breaths of two resting ponies. Rarity, smiling contentedly, couldn’t remember a time she’d felt more relaxed.
“So, how’s the dress business goin’?” Applejack asked, her eyes closed.
“You don’t have to pretend to be interested in the Boutique,” Rarity said with another chuckle. “Being here is enough.”
“Hey, that’s not true,” Applejack protested, leaning forward. “I don’t have to pretend to care about my friends’ work. If didn't wanna know I wouldn't have asked.”
“Well, if you insist, it could be better," Rarity said with a tired sigh.
“How so?”
Rarity rubbed the back of her neck. “I’d rather not discuss this here.” Her leg jerked abruptly at the feeling of something brushing her leg.
She saw Applejack lay a hoof on her leg for a brief moment before pulling away. “I’m around, okay? Just let me know if you need any help.”
Rarity stared down at the spot where Applejack’s hoof had been, eyes wide. “O-okay. Well… I designed my entire formal season line with satin, which has been very hard to find this year, so it was very expensive.”
Applejack poked at the inside of her cheek with her tongue. “And I’m guessin’ satin hasn’t been sellin’?”
“It would have,” Rarity huffed. “But that boor Opal Lace, who wouldn’t know a good design if it served her tea and pancakes for breakfast, somehow convinced Hoity Toity to feature her line instead. And now all anypony in Canterlot talks about is lace and tatting. It’s simply infuriating.”
“I can only imagine,” Applejack replied, without the barest hint of sarcasm. “Why’d you make yours with satin?”
“Well,” Rarity leaned forward, feeling the familiar excitement that always came with discussing her designs, “it’s been years since satin was in style. Not since Ruby Glacier presented her last line at the Manehatten expo, at least. And I know for a fact that it is a personal favorite of Fancy Pants’.”
“Really?” Applejack asked, barely hiding the fact that she didn’t have the faintest idea what the difference between satin any other fabric was.
“Oh yes,” Rarity replied. “Not many ponies know, but the last time I was in Canterlot I spoke to him and…”
To Rarity's surprised, Applejack continued listening intently, long after it had become clear to them both that the cow pony no longer had any idea what Rarity was talking about. Applejack nodded politely and smiled at all of the right times, and it seemed to Rarity like her friend really did care what she had to say. It was so rare that she had the opportunity to talk fashion and gossip with anypony but Fluttershy, who, for all of her wonderful qualities, wasn’t much of a conversationalist. And Applejack seemed to be enjoying herself anyway.
“Mmmmm,” Applejack moaned between a lull in the conversation. “You were right. This is nice.” Applejack spent so much time working it wasn’t often that Rarity had the chance to see her like this, comfortably smiling, her legs loosely hanging at her sides, muscles relaxed. Her damp coat positively glowed beneath the steam.
Rarity smiled. “I knew you’d love this.”
Applejack leaned back, breathing deep. “I think I’m ready to try one those massages now.”
“Perfect, I’ll go call Lotus and—” Rarity stopped, a bold idea taking hold. “Actually, I could do it.”
Applejack raised one brow. “You know how to, eh, massage?”
“Sure I could,” Rarity said, trying to hide her growing excitement. “I’ve been here every week for the last ten years. I’ve seen the twins give more than enough massages to know how it’s done. I’m certain I could.”
“Okay.” Applejack shrugged. “Should we get out of here first?”
“No,” Rarity said, jumping to her hooves. “This is fine, just turn around.”
Applejack shrugged again, swiveling through the mist so her back was facing Rarity. “Is this good?”
“Perfect,” Rarity said breathlessly, tentatively walking forward and placing a hoof on Applejack’s glistening coat. “I’m going to have to let your hair down though.” Rarity grinned as she pulled the hair band away, letting Applejack’s straw hair fall loosely over her shoulders and back, smelling earthy and sweet.
Rarity slid her loves along Applejack’s back for a few moments, indulging in the feeling of the soft coat over strong muscles, before pressing down. “How does that feel?”
“Ugh,” Applejack groaned. “Are you sure you know how to do this?”
“Sorry,” Rarity said, moving her hooves near Applejack’s neck and twisting them in small circles. “Is this better?”
“A little,” Applejack replied, her muscles tensing beneath Rarity’s touch. “But not much. Maybe we should just go see the spa ponies.”
“No!” Rarity cried, wincing at the force in her voice. “No, I can do this. I want to do this for you.” She pressed harder, her hooves digging into Applejack’s tightening skin. Applejack groaned painfully.
“Eh, Rarity,” Applejack said, turning around and staying Rarity’s hooves. “Please stop. I appreciate that you wanna help, but I’m pretty sure you don’t have any idea what you’re doin’.”
Rarity sighed. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” She turned away.
“Hey.” Applejack touched her shoulder, smiling. “Thanks for bringing me here. This is really great.”
Rarity smiled and dared a small nuzzle, brushing against Applejack’s neck. “You’re welcome.”
Applejack smiled back to her. “Come on,” she said, leading Rarity out of the steam and into the cold hallway, pressing close. “I really am happy that you asked me to come. I’ve been lookin’ to spend more time with you for a while now.”
“Of course,” Rarity said, drawing closer to Applejack and relishing in the warmth that passed between them.
Rarity shook the memory from her mind and drew the covers up over her face so she couldn’t see the windows, their curtains drawn to catch the blearing afternoon light and leaving the room in appropriate gloom. In the heat of the bed, she could smell her sweat. Her breath, uncomfortably hot and moist, filled the sheets and clung to her face until she had to turn away. But it followed her and no matter which way she turned sleep wouldn’t come.
Applejack didn’t want her. Rarity always secretly believed that Applejack would, if only Rarity told her friend how she really felt. She’d always assumed that they would end up together eventually, that there would always be some chance. She’d known that chance was remote, but it had always lingered in the back of her mind. Now that chance had been definitively crushed once and for all.
Twilight sighed as her eyes swept over the room. The tulips in the vase by the door had dried and blanched violet, a single strand of ribbon had been strung over a bare mannequin and rolled, winding and twisting across the floor, and a smell like stale bread hung by the kitchen door. Besides those small changes, it seemed Carousel Boutique had frozen itself in time the night of Rarity and Applejack’s fight. Everything sat in the exact same spot as she had seen then. It was clear, clean, and neatly typical of the unicorn who called it home.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Rainbow Dash called from the top of the stairs. “Get back up here.”
Twilight trotted back up the wide steps. “I thought there might be something down there that could help.”
“Did you find anything?” Rainbow Dash asked, fluttering over the top step with her forelegs crossed over her chest.
“No,” Twilight answered, shaking her head.
“Good work,” Dash said, irritable and bored. “Hurry up already.”
Twilight ignored her, trotted down the hallway, stopped at the door, and knocked. Again. “Rarity, you need to come out.”
Something shuffled about in the closed room. “Go away,” Rarity said, her voice muffled by the door.
Rainbow Dash pounded both her hooves on the wood. “Seriously, Rarity, this is like the hundredth time you’ve done this. And every single time we sit out here and are like, ‘Hey Rarity, come out now,’ and you say…”
“No,” Rarity said, an annoyed twinge in her voice.
Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “And then Twilight says…”
Twilight nodded and opened her mouth. “R—”
“And then I’m like, ‘Blah blah blah,’ ”Dash immediately interrupted. “And you say, ‘Blah blah blah,’ and we say, ‘Blah bah blah,’ and then you come out after a couple days, and then Pinkie Pie throws a party. Can we just skip to the last step this time? You know, speed things up a little?”
Rarity didn’t respond.
Twilight glared at the pegasus. “That isn’t helping.”
Rainbow Dash shrugged. “I thought it was worth a shot.”
“What’d I miss?”
Twilight turned to see Pinkie bouncing up the stairs, a popcorn bucket balanced on her back and slinging kernels through the air with each bounce.
“Nothing,” Rainbow Dash answered, grabbing a hoof full of popcorn. “She’s just sitting in there.”
“Awesome!” Pinkie sat down on her haunches and plopped the bucket down in front of her hooves, already half empty. “I brought popcorn.”
Twilight sighed again and chewed on a piece of popcorn, feeling the cloying, sweet butter coat her teeth.
Rainbow Dash pounded on the door again, her mouth still full of popcorn. “No spfony spefides Appleflack even cares.” She swallowed. “She’s just uptight.”
“Yeah,” Pinkie said, balancing a kernel on her snout. “Sugar Sweet’s cute. Right, Twilight?”
Twilight rubbed her chin. “Well, Spike was a little upset, but—”
“You told Spike?!” Rarity shrieked.
“I didn’t give him details, but he was bound to find out sooner or later. Better from me than somepony else.”
Rarity groaned.
“What are you doing in there anyway?” Rainbow Dash asked, smiling as she tossed a bit of popcorn at Pinkie’s mane when the bouncing pony turned away.
“Eating fancy food,” Rarity called back.
“You’re eatin—ahh!” Dash yelped as Pinkie Pie, ever ready for a popcorn fight, tossed the entire bucketful back at her. Twilight winced at the now snack-littered floor. Whenever she finally came out, Rarity wasn’t going to be happy.
Pinkie smiled and threw the empty bucket down the stairs. “Ooo, I have popcorn. Wanna trade?”
“If you’re going to eat, can you at least eat out here so we can talk?” Twilight asked. Before turning away from the door and lowering her voice. “Stop making a mess or she’ll never come out,” she hissed at Dash, trying to swipe the popcorn out of sight with her tail.
“What?” Dash cried. “She started it!”
Pinkie waggled her brows up down at Dash and grinned, sucking popcorn off the floor and down her throat.
“Just stop,” Twilight said, ignoring the pegasus’s protests.
They heard what sounded like something falling over on the other side of the door. “You’re right,” Rarity said after a pause.
“Who’s right?” Twilight asked, looking around.
The door abruptly swung open, and Rarity, looking as meticulously manicured as ever, trotted out. She nodded to Pinkie, who was busy making silly faces at Dash, and walked to the stairs.
Twilight stepped out of the way as Dash launched herself at Pinkie, falling into a giggling mass of pink, blue, and popcorn. “Where are you going?”
“To ask Applejack to dinner,” Rarity replied, her hooves crunching on fallen popcorn with each step.
“Uuh, are you sure that’s such a good idea?” Twilight asked. “I think Applejack is still pretty upset.”
Rarity flicked her tail to the side. “No, I’m not. And please have this hallway cleaned before I get back.”
Twilight watched Rarity leave, and then turned to Rainbow Dash, who was sitting, beaming and triumphant, on Pinkie’s stomach, stray bits of crushed kernels spread across the floor around her. “I’m not cleaning this up.”
_________________________________________________
Rarity followed the sight green leaves, red apples, and the sound of hooves striking bark. Most of Sweet Apple Acre’s trees had succumbed to the growing cold, leaving behind thin strokes of bare, web-like limbs to grasp at the empty air. But one patch of trees always outlasted the rest, stubbornly shining with fruit until the first snowfall. It was to this patch that Rarity walked, head held straight and legs moving quickly.
Applejack didn't want her. But Rarity didn't believe that, she couldn't. All she could think of was that very first spa visit they’d shared, just the two of them together. She shook her head, remembering the feeling of Applejack’s coat pressing against her own and the warmth they’d shared.
No, it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be true. Even if Applejack herself didn’t realize it yet, Rarity was certain she loved her. Rarity would just have to make her realize it.
She slowed when she reached the green trees, enjoying the fleeting taste of summer. The Apple’s collie ran by her and barked happily. Winona ran up a small hill, her tongue hanging loosely out of her mouth, up to Applejack. The cowpony was pulling a large cart filled with apples. She frowned at Rarity and then smiled again.
Rarity put on a smile of her own and trotted up the hill. “Good afternoon, Applejack. How are you?”
“Afternoon,” Applejack said, bending down to scratch Winona’s neck. “I'm fine. We’re just gatherin’ up the last of this year’s harvest.” She stood up and rubbed her own neck. “How ‘bout you?”
“Swimmingly,” Rarity replied, walking closer. “Ah, and it’s going well, I suppose?”
Applejack glanced up at the cold, gray sky. “I guess. Did you, uh, need somethin’?”
Rarity nudged the bothering dog away from her with a hoof and smiled all the more. “Yes, I’ve come to ask if you’d be interested in joining me for dinner this evening.”
“Sure I would,” Applejack replied, continuing to pull the cart forward. “I can hardly remember the last time we all got together to do anything.”
Rarity fell into a slow trot beside her. “Well, actually I was thinking it could be just the two of us.”
“Just the two of us?” Applejack repeated, one cheek crumpled.
“Yes, think of it as a sort of da—apology.”
“I told you not to apologize to me.” Applejack walked a little faster. “That’s behind us now.”
“Well, just a dinner between friends then?”
Applejack didn’t answer.
Rarity ran in front of her friend and stopped, forcing Applejack to stop and nearly getting both of them run over by the apple-filled cart. “Applejack, please. I’d really like to do this with you. We can just go to the Sandwich Shack if you want. Nothing fancy. Just as friends. When was the last time you had a break?”
Applejack sighed. “Fine, tonight at the Sandwich Shack then. Nothing fancy. Just as friends.”
“Perfect!” Rarity smiled and laughed. “I’ll see you tonight then.”
“Mm hmm.”
Rarity turned and trotted back to the gray trees. Soon, Winona ran beside her again. Rarity welcomed the company, thinking about apple harvests. Winona barked, and Rarity threw her head back and laughed at a joke only she heard.
It was going to be a big night. Well, formally it was only going to be a dinner between friends, but Rarity knew how important such a seemingly insignificant occurrence could be. She rifled through her closet’s many dresses, skirts, robes, and hats. She couldn’t wear a dress, that would be too obvious, but she had to wear something special. She'd spent the day trying and failing to update her season line. She couldn't seem to focus on anything but the thought of cowpony hats.
Applejack probably wouldn’t mind if she wore something simple. Maybe she would wear the scarf Rarity had made for her the night before. Rarity smiled at the thought. Her ear and smile twitched as somepony knocked on the front door.
She sighed and walked down the stairs, past half-shaped dresses and piles of folded cloth, and opened the door.
“Hey, Rarity!”
It was a long while before Rarity recognized the mare greeting her from past her doorway and beneath the evening rain, a glowing umbrella floating over her head. Her scarf looked familiar, but the rest of her was a strange mess of blonde mane and pink coat. Then she noticed the yellow eyes.
“Can I come in?”
“No.” Rarity glanced behind her. “What do—er, do you need something?”
“Oh, okay.” Sugar Sweet smiled anyway. “I just wanted to lik—uh, say sorry, for getting you in trouble with your friends. I shouldn’t have gone to the library to see them. It was my fault, and I should have tried to be more careful. I—I just wanted to know why you liked her so much, so I could be better for you, but I just messed everything up.”
Sugar Sweet looked down. “And I’m sorry I yelled at her. I know I just made everything worse, but she was saying all those mean things about you, and I—and I’m sorry.”
Silence hung about while the other mare stared at Rarity, smiling hopefully and expectantly. Rarity cleared her throat. “I, well, thank you. It’s better now… And I apologize as well. I… shouldn’t have said those things to you.”
Sugar Sweet beamed. “No problem! I made you something to make up for it.” She floated a dingy cloth in front of Rarity’s face. Its stitching hung loose, the hems were uneven, and the colors poorly chosen.
“What is it?”
“It’s a cloak,” Sugar Sweet said, floating it around in circles to show her the hood. “I know it isn’t as good as the stuff you make. I’m not nearly as good as you, but I thought—”
“I have more cloaks than I need as it is,” Rarity said with a snort and waved the cloth away.
Sugar Sweet frowned. “Oh…”
“But I do appreciate the thought,” Rarity added quickly with a strained smile. “I’m sure I can find a place for it somewhere. Is that all, or did you need something else?”
“No, I’ll keep it. Uh, see you later…” Sugar Sweet turned away.
Rarity moved to close the door. “Well, goodbye then.”
“Wait!” Sugar Sweet turned around quickly, sending her mane whirling around her head. “Like, wait a second. I need to say something else.”
Rarity stopped the door half-way closed and sighed.
Sugar Sweet took a deep breath and jittered on her hooves, looking for all the world like she was about to be marched into a lion’s den. “I need to say thank you.”
“That’s really not necessary,” Rarity said, closing the door again.
Sugar Sweet threw her leg in the door. “Please wait!”
“…Alright,” Rarity slowly let the door swing back open.
“Thank you for being nice to me.” Sugar Sweet swiped her mane away, tucked it behind her neck, and looked down at her hooves. “Most ponies I went to see were really mean, or just, like, really awful. Or they would act like I’m not a pony at all and wouldn’t talk to me or anything. But you were always super nice, and I always really liked being with you, more than anypony else.” She smiled.
Rarity looked at everything, the low, gray clouds, the sky dimming over the brightening streetlamps, the lone candle glowing behind her neighbor’s window, two ponies walking side-by-side down the damp street, paying more attention to each other than where they were walking—everything but the mare standing before her.
“I realized that I don’t want to be with anypony else,” Sugar Sweet said. “I only want to be with you.”
“Oh no,” Rarity muttered under her breath, massaging her forehead. She dropped her hoof and looked at Sugar Sweet. “Listen, I’m sorry, I don’t know what you thought this was, but it must end now.”
Sugar Sweet’s lips trembled. “Oh, but why?”
“I promised I wouldn’t.”
Sugar Sweet’s smile returned, full and sparkling. “We don’t have to do that anymore. We’re friends, right? We can just hang out together!”
Rarity prodded at her doorstep. “No, I’m afraid that isn’t possible.”
“But, why not? I made you laugh, right?” Sugar Sweet asked, leaning forward suddenly as if to catch something that she had dropped and feared lost. “I don’t want, like, anything else. Just that.”
“No, I promised I wouldn’t see any more escorts.” Rarity dared a look at the mare before her, and immediately dropped her gaze again. “And that includes you.”
“I’ll quit then!” Sugar Sweet cried. “I can find another job easy. I don’t even like doing this.”
Rarity steeled her back, standing up straight. “I’m sorry, but you must keep away from me from now on.”
Sugar Sweet’s smile held until her mane fell back over her eyes. “…Because of her?”
“Yes, of course.” Rarity continued massaging her forehead.
“You’re, like, the stupidest pony I’ve ever met,” Sugar Sweet said, her eyes glowering behind her mane like a fire smoldering beneath a bale of straw. “I never called you disgusting. I only wanted to be nice to you. Like, every single thing she said was true.”
“Please, please, please go away. I’m so sorry.” Rarity sniffled, she wouldn’t cry though. She absolutely refused to cry. “I’m begging you—leave me alone. I promised I wouldn’t see you again.”
Sugar Sweet stared, opened her mouth, closed it, spun around on her hooves like a drunk, and walked slowly away into the drizzle, her umbrella swaying precariously over her head.
Rarity closed the door and wiped her eyes. She trotted upstairs into the bathroom to splash hot water on her face. She knew the pain of being told she wasn’t wanted, and she never would have wished it on even the absolute worst of ponies, much less the caring and thoughtful. If there had only been some other way, some way no pony would have to have gotten hurt…
She sniffed again, steeling her face and pushing those thoughts out of her mind. She still needed to figure out what she was going to wear. After all, it was going to be a big night.
Rarity sat down and then stood up again. She looked at the clock and winced. Applejack was late. She took a deep breath and imagined herself one hour after their dinner together. One hour after the most important night of her life, when everything would be pleasant and sweet again. One hour after Applejack realized how wrong she’d been about Rarity. One hour after Rarity could finally toss away each and every one of her silly romance stories once and for all. They would smile to each other, curled together on the couch, whispering sweet nothings into one another’s ears.
She sighed and walked to the mirror again, just to make sure. She bounced her curls and smiled. She frowned. It wasn’t perfect, and it needed to be perfect. Where had she left that brush?
Somepony knocked. Rarity cantered to the door, paused for a brief moment to collect herself, and opened it.
Applejack smiled. “Hey, Rarity. You ready to go?”
Rarity closely examined the mare before her. “Applejack, is that you?”
“Who else would it be?” Applejack’s face soured, green eyes clouding. “Never mind. You ready to go?”
“Yes,” Rarity answered quickly, trotting out of her house. Applejack nodded and they fell in step together, walking up the street.
Applejack trotted in a hurry, nearly running. Rarity could only assume that she was very hungry for some sandwiches. Rarity sniffed. The air smelled wet and cool, and the ground shone dully under what little light was left. The clouds had finally broken, and moonlight bounced off Applejack’s flank and tail.
The Sandwich Shack was already in sight, worryingly close to Rarity’s home. She needed to say something, anything to get started on the right hoof. She cleared her throat loudly.
“Yeah?” Applejack asked, turning her head.
“Yes…” Rarity tried to scratch her neck, forgetting that she was walking and tripping over her hooves. Her face flushed as she steadied herself. “Uh, do you know why the skeleton went to the movie theater alone?” she tried, for lack of anything else to say.
Applejack slowed down and chuckled. “Let me guess. Was it because he had nobody to go with?”
“You’ve heard it before?”
Applejack laughed beautifully. “I think Pinkie’s told me that one at least a dozen times.”
“Oh,” Rarity said, trotting up to the door of the Sandwich Shack, an indistinct building among the houses of Ponyville with an even less distinct menu. Rarity almost laughed at the thought that it would be the stage for her greatest triumph. She regretted that it couldn’t be somewhere more appropriate, but desperate times and the rest.
Applejack stopped in front of the door. “Why was the cucumber havin’ a bad day?”
“I don’t know,” Rarity said, brushing her mane to the side like she’d practiced.
Applejack grinned. “Because it was in a pickle.”
It wasn’t funny, but Rarity couldn’t think of anything to do but laugh. “That’s terrible, and it doesn’t even make any sense.”
“Mm hmm. Granny you used to say it a lot,” Applejack replied, opening the door and stepping aside with an absurd little bow. “After you.”
Rarity nodded to her and, in spite of her vow to never enter any establishment with the word ‘shack’ in its name, walked inside.
Rarity smiled and nodded along with Applejack’s blinking, happy eyes. The sweet smell of her half-eaten honey and azalea sandwich on the table drifted up to her snout, a house specialty. Her hooves were warm on the tabletop.
“You should have seen the poor little guy!” Applejack laughed, her own sandwich turning over in her open mouth. “They had him wrapped up with some kind of slingshot tied to his tongue.”
“Oh no,” Rarity said, covering her amusement with a hoof. It was going so, so perfectly. So much more so than she ever could have thought possible. It was really happening. “He wasn’t hurt, was he?”
“Nah,” Applejack replied, waving a hoof in the air. “He’s fine. I can’t say the same for Fluttershy’s chickens though. Those girls almost burnt the coop to the ground. I told them they had to help her around her cottage for the rest of the week.”
“But whatever does any of that have to have to with fire eating? And why in all of Equestria would they ever want such a silly talent anyway?”
Applejack shrugged as she took another bite of her sandwich. “Beats me, but you know how those girls are.”
“Well, it certainly sounds like Sweetie Belle.” Rarity smiled and took a sip of her water.
“Mm hmm,” Applejack mumbled over her food. “I swear, sometimes I don’t think they’ll ever figure it out.”
Rarity shook her head. “No, I’m sure Apple Bloom will find her own soon. She’s a very bright filly.”
Applejack nodded. “They all are.”
Rarity opened her mouth and closed it again when the waitress arrived.
“Everything good here?” the waitress asked, pouring dingy water into Rarity’s glass. With an off white bar top lined by spinning stools, and booths that overlooked wide, smudged windows, the Sandwich Shack was the closest thing Ponyville had to a true diner. Tonight though, Rarity thought it looked beautiful.
Rarity cleared her throat. “Thank you, I think we are fine.”
The waitress lifted her pitcher, a permanently smart aleck smirk pasted onto her face. “You two gonna be having any dessert tonight? We’re serving blueberry pie tonight. Chef’s favorite.”
Rarity lifted her hoof to refuse.
“Oh, come on,” Applejack interrupted. “A perfect end to a perfect night, huh?”
“Well…” When she put it like that. “I suppose I could eat a slice of blueberry pie, if you really don’t mind.”
Applejack patted her stomach and laughed. “Mind? I’d mind if we didn’t. Send it over.”
“Alright then, that’ll be right out.” The waitress squiggled on her notepad, smiled, and walked away.
Applejack pushed her empty plate away, scratching it over the table top. “I’m surprised, Rarity. I didn’t think you liked this place.”
Rarity flipped one of her curls. “I think it’s lovely.”
“Really?”
“Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
Applejack chuckled and shrugged. “I don’t know. This just doesn’t seem up to your, eh, standards.”
“Maybe,” Rarity said with a smirk. “But I believe I have demonstrated on a number of occasions that I am more than willing to get my hooves dirty. Especially when it comes to the ponies I care about.” She laid her hoof on Applejack’s. Rarity’s skin tickled at the touch.
Applejack’s leg went rigid while Rarity pretended not to notice.
Applejack coughed and shifted in her seat. “Sugarcube…” She pulled her hoof away and laid it in her lap. “Sugarcube,” she tried again, “what exactly are you hopin’ to get out of tonight?”
Rarity blinked and coughed, her hoof now lying alone on the table. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Applejack sighed. “You said this would be a dinner between friends. I told you already I don’t have any feelings for you.”
Rarity coughed again. “Maybe not now, but if given—”
A blueberry pie collapsed, clattering on the table between them. “Here it is!” the wretchedly happy waitress announced, laying two more empty plates on the table. “Need anything else?”
“No thank you,” Rarity replied with her best smile. Blood pounding down her legs, she waited for the waiter to move on before continuing. “Maybe not now, but if given some more time and thought, I think you’ll disc—”
“No!” Applejack said, loud enough to draw the attention of every other pony in the restaurant.
“But we’ve been having such a nice time together…”
Applejack sighed. “Rarity, look, I don’t wanna be mean, but I suspect I’m goin’ to be anyway, so I might as well get it over with quick.” She took a deep breath, and Rarity stopped breathing. “You were right. How could I ever like a pony like you?”
Rarity looked down. The blueberry pie was getting cold.
“You’re uppity and clean and blow more time fixin’ your mane in the morning than I spend eatin’ breakfast. You spend all day making things showy and pretty, and I couldn’t care less about how anything or anypony looked.” Applejack’s face softened. “That’s what I like about you. It’s what makes you Rarity, and I wouldn’t have you any other way. As a friend. But I don’t want to be with you, not like that. There’s just no common ground.”
Applejack smiled. “I think I get it now. I remember when I moved to Manehattan and I wanted to be somepony else, someplace else, someplace better. I can accept your apology now. If I could do this any other way, I would. I want you to be happy. But neither of us would be happy if we were together. It wouldn’t work. Do you understand what I’m sayin’? I’m not tryin’ to hurt you. Do you understand?”
Rarity tried to nod, but cried instead. Pitiful, shaking sobs rippled and popped in her chest. Applejack walked around the booth and laid a hoof over her neck, like a fire alighting on Rarity’s skin. “Yes,” she finally managed. “I understand.”
Applejack stroked her withers, up and down, up and down, saying, “I’m sorry.”
“What’s wrong with me?” Rarity asked.
“No, no,” Applejack murmured. “Nothi—”
“Yes,” Rarity cried. “Something is. I was so sure about this. First Blueblood and now you. What am I doing wrong? Why can’t I ever get this right?”
Applejack remained silent for so long, Rarity worried that she had left, except for the warmth pressed against her side. “I think,” Applejack said, slowly rolling her jaw back and forth, “I think your problem is that you don’t see things how they are, but how you want them to be. You’re livin’ in your fantasies and you’re even willing to pay mares to keep them alive because you know they aren’t real.”
Rarity flinched.
“It doesn’t make any sense,” Applejack continued. “You’re a beautiful, wonderful, and hardworking pony. If you would pay more attention, you would see that there are a ton of ponies who already like you for you. But you keep ignorin’ them in place of me and ponies like Blueblood, ponies who you never could have been with. If you would just give one of those other ponies a chance—”
A bright white flash of light to the side caught Applejack’s words. “What are you doin’ here?” Applejack asked, her voice and leg stiffening around Rarity’s neck.
Rarity looked up to see Sugar Sweet, appearing from nowhere, march up to Applejack and raise her leg into the air. After a single confusing moment, she brought her hoof down hard across Applejack’s face, leaving behind a ringing slap that stilled the entire restaurant. Rarity felt Applejack’s breathing go heavy and her leg shake.
Applejack slowly turned to Sugar Sweet, the mark on her cheek burning red. “You don’t ever touch me again,” she said, her voice deathly low.
“No, you don’t ever make her cry again,” Sugar Sweet replied, ignoring Applejack‘s glare and not shrinking away.
“I’m being honest with her,” Applejack said, her voice like ice. “Something you’ll never do.”
“Rarity, what are you doing?” Sugar Sweet asked, turning to Rarity. “She, like, doesn’t even want you. But I do!”
Applejack tightened her hold on Rarity. “All you want is her money.”
“How would you know? Rarity, you’re crying right now. I never ever made you cry.”
“What?!” Applejack said, rising in her seat. “All of this, everything, this is your doin’. If you’d just left her alone, none of this would have happened.”
Sugar Sweet turned away from Applejack. “Rarity, you know that isn’t true, right? Like, please come with me. Why are you even with her?”
Applejack huffed. “She’s not goin’ anywhere with you.”
Sugar Sweet ignored her, her face hardening. “Rarity? Please?”
Rarity turned away from them both, staring out the dark window. "I... I don't know what's right anymore..."
“It's okay, you don't have to say anything to her,” Applejack said with a gentle nuzzle before turning back to Sugar Sweet. "You’ve got your answer."
Rarity heard Sugar Sweet sniff, saying, “You really are stupid”, the sound of running hooves, and the door swinging open. She watched Sugar Sweet run out and around a corner, out of sight.
Watching the mare leave, a confusing sadness overtook her, and she couldn’t understand why. Maybe it was because she never had a chance to answer Sugar Sweet's question. She was seized by a sudden impulse to go running out after her, but she had no idea what she would do if she actually caught her or what her answer even was, yes or no.
Rarity stopped crying, her heart wholly and completely broken. She ignored the confused and concerned looks of the ponies in the booth behind them while sounds of life slowly returned to the small restaurant.
“Are you alright?” Applejack asked, leaning forward.
“I’m fine,” Rarity said, curtly.
“Do you wanna go home now?”
“No,” Rarity answered. “I’d like to eat that pie. And I’d like for you to go back to your side of the table.”
“Oh, sorry.” Applejack awkwardly tumbled out of the seat and back around. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Rarity floated the knife into the air and brought it swiftly down into the soft pie crust, tearing it to pieces. Her mouth and eyes watered. “Absolutely.”
Rarity chewed her pie lazily, enjoying it fully, cold and sweet. She ate two slices. She felt like she deserved it. She’d always liked blueberries, and she wondered why she didn’t eat them more often. Applejack distractedly poked at her own slice, occasionally carrying one of her pokes up to her mouth. Rarity took her time.
One by one, the few other ponies remaining in the Sandwich Shack left, leaving behind piled plates for the tired waitress to take away, grumbling back to the kitchen. It started to rain, tap, tap, tapping on the roof and trailing down the grubby windows. When the waitress informed them that she would soon be closing up, Applejack and Rarity stood and smiled at each other.
Applejack tried to pay, but Rarity insisted. It was only fair. She let Applejack take the pie home. After all, she’d eaten two slices, and that was fair too. Applejack asked her if she wanted her to walk her home, if she’d brought an umbrella, and if she was okay. Rarity nodded and said no, no, and yes.
At the entrance, they hugged and said goodbye, and Applejack pushed through the squeaky door. Rarity followed her out onto the misty street. They said their goodbyes again, and Rarity looked away as soon as she could. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt cool, refreshing rain trickle down her face, so she walked slowly.
Applejack didn’t want her. There was no longer any possible way for her to pretend or fool herself into thinking otherwise. Applejack, in ruthlessly plain words, hadn’t left any room for doubt, explaining just how little chance there remained, or had ever been. She hadn’t even given her a chance. She couldn't think of any pain worse, and she realized that she'd inflicted that same pain on another pony, maybe more than one.
She wandered the empty, fog-ridden streets of Ponyville, enjoying a lack of purpose or obligation. Her mane, slick and dripping, stuck to her face and neck. She smiled as she jumped in puddles like a filly, her nose turned up and wondering at starry breaks in the wet clouds.
Applejack didn’t want her. But she had said to find a pony who liked Rarity for who she was. But Rarity could only think of one other pony who fit, and Applejack certainly wouldn’t approve. As if Applejack had anymore say in the matter, she thought bitterly, stomping in another puddle.
When she accidently reached her home, she carelessly trotted up the steps and into her bathroom, not bothering to worry about spoiling the carpet. She was planning to buy a new one soon, after all. She scrubbed her head and coat with a towel. When she was a little less wet, she found Opalescence, sat her down on the couch, and groomed the cat’s fur. She wanted something nice to look at. She brushed and brushed until the cat hissed and swiped her away.
She looked at her empty bed. Applejack hadn’t even given her the courtesy of a chance, and now she had to spend another night alone. They could have been happy together. Rarity believed—no, knew it for an absolute certainty. But once again, her plans had been dashed against the rocks. First the boorish Blueblood, and now the ignorant Applejack. No, Rarity did not understand how Applejack could simply toss her aside for such a silly reason.
And Sugar Sweet... it was as if Rarity and Applejack had traded places. She was to Sugar Sweet as Applejack was to her. She felt sorry for the other mare. She hadn’t given her any chance either. But if everypony deserved a chance, and Applejack had given her one, how could anyone have given Sugar Sweet hers? Or if she had given Sugar Sweet a chance, how could she have ever gotten one from Applejack?
She shook her head slumped her face down into the mattress. Nothing made sense anymore. She just wanted someone to be with. Was that so terrible a crime that she deserved such punishment? Perhaps I should simply swear off love forever, she thought with a groan, like the terrible vice that it is.
She couldn’t think of anything else to do, so she went to sleep. Acutely aware of her empty bed, she twisted alone under the hot sheets. She gritted her teeth, tired and sweating. She scowled her hardest at the pillows, but sleep never came. All she wanted was someone to sleep beside her. Nothing more.
Rarity swept the money off the counter and into the coin chest, listening to it fall into the other coins with a satisfying clink. She looked back up and passed the stallion on the opposite side of the counter a stiff smile. “Will that be all?”
“Yeah, this is perfect. She’s gonna love this!”
Rarity very seriously doubted that. She knew his marefriend, Raindrops, much preferred simple, breezy skirts and spring colors. Not the pompous, frilly affair slung over his back. It was more suited to ballroom dances than anything else, and she also very seriously doubted Raindrops had any interest in attending a ballroom dance anytime in the near future. He would give it to her expecting her to be excited, and she would do her best to oblige him, while thinking behind her smile that it was an ugly, obtuse thing. But why ruin his mood by telling him?
“I’m sure,” she said, wincing as he grabbed the dress up inbetween dirty teeth.
He nodded, rushing out the door with a muffled thank you. The dress dragged along the ground behind him as he left.
“Have a nice day,” Rarity replied automatically.
With another customer gone, she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Failing to think of anything better, she slumped against the counter and dully slid her hoof over the smooth countertop. She felt tired, like she’d spent the night before working late, as she often did, too worried that the inspiration would be lost if she stopped and resigned herself to sleep before she was finished. She could have restocked the front shelves, or organized her workroom, or tried to finish one of her older designs. But all she really wanted to do was go back to sleep. She couldn’t sleep though. There at the front desk she could distract herself with the occasional customer, at least. Back in her bedroom, she would be left alone with her thoughts, and she did not look forward to that.
“Hey, where do you want this?”
Rarity looked up. Twilight stood across from her, a stack of silken fabrics floating beside her. Rarity had forgotten her friend was in the room at all.
“Oh, just put it down anywhere, I suppose,” Rarity replied.
Twilight frowned and rested the fabric on the floor. “Rarity, are you feeling okay?”
Rarity snorted, an incredibly unladylike gesture, but she couldn’t help being amused by the question. “Not especially.”
Twilight’s frown deepened as she stepped closer. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not especially.” Rarity tapped her hoof on the counter. “I just don’t understand why she couldn’t have at least given me a chance. What harm could that have done?”
Twilight moved around the counter. She lifted a foreleg up as if to grab Rarity in a hug, but she hesitated, and then dropped it, offering her friend a smile instead. “I think she did what she thought was best for both of you, if that helps.”
“Right,” Rarity replied, returning her smile. “I’m sorry, Twilight. Really, all things considered, I’m not bad. I just need to keep myself busy. I think I’ll try to get some work done.”
She drifted back to her workroom, and Twilight trotted in beside her. Rarity frowned at the mess that welcomed her into the room. Failed designs on crumpled papers and forgotten bits of fabrics littered the floor, unused mannequins lay on their sides, and stacks of overused magazines lay open on her desks. She liked to tell her friends it was organized chaos, but really it was just the normal, messy sort of chaos. She always planned to clean it, but it was a plan she found easy to put off. Still, there was comfort in familiarity, even in the familiarity of disorder.
“I really can’t thank you enough for offering to help today,” she said to Twilight. “I’m sure you must be busy as well.”
“It’s the least I could do—” Twilight’s voice caught. “Oh wow, Rarity. This dress is beautiful,” she exclaimed, trotting up to a mannequin near the center of the room.
“Thank you,” Rarity said, warmth rising in her cheeks at the compliment. She moved beside Twilight and examined the dress. A tight, short bodice fitted around the mannequin’s chest, ending in a cascade of warm, golden waves that washed over its flanks. “It’s for the Duchess of Tall Tale. She ordered an ensemble for this year’s Autumn Harvest Festival.”
“She came all the way to Ponyville to order a dress?” Twilight asked, eyes widening.
“No,” Rarity replied with a small smirk. “She came all the way to Ponyville to order a dress from me.”
Twilight laughed. “Well, congratulations, Rarity. I’m really happy for you. So, is there anything else I can help with?”
“I suppose,” Rarity said, chewing on her cheek. “Do you think you could help me clean up in here?”
“Sure,” Twilight replied with a smile, looking down at the mess beneath her hooves.
They worked together in comfortable silence, Twilight gathering the stray fabric and paper together, and Rarity organizing them into neat piles. Soon, the workroom was looking cleaner than Rarity could last remember. A little part of her wanted to stop and spill the piles back over the room, as if she’d just let go of some personal thing she couldn’t get back.
After floating some stragglers out from behind one of the desks, Twilight cleared her throat loudly. “Hey, Rarity?”
“Yes?” Rarity said distractedly, busy ensuring each of her mannequins faced precisely the same direction. If she was going to order the disorder, she was going to do it right. No trace could remain.
“I need to apologize to you.”
“Hmm?” Rarity stopped to look at her friend. “Whatever for?”
Twilight swallowed, looking down at the ground. “The other night, when Applejack found out about—well, you know, I didn’t do anything to help. I just stood there. I’m really sorry. I was just... I don’t know, stunned.”
“Oh.” Rarity’s chest tightened at the mention of Applejack, just the name she’d been working to forget. For a time, at least, until she felt ready. “It’s fine. I’m sure we were all, eh, surprised.”
“And then I still didn’t do anything when you and Applejack left,” Twilight continued. “I thought you two might be better off working it out by yourselves. But maybe I could have done something to help. I’m really sorry, Rarity.”
Somehow, Rarity managed a smile. “Really, it’s fine. There’s isn’t anything more you could have done.” Rarity sighed, straightening another mannequin. “This was a long time coming, and I accept responsibility. I’m just glad it is behind me now instead of in front of me.”
“Well, I’m sorry all the same,” Twilight replied. “And I wanted to apologize for Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie too.”
“I think you have been spending a little too much time with Fluttershy,” Rarity said with a chuckle. “But what have Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie done that they can’t apologize for themselves?”
“No, I mean about the other night, when you, uh, locked yourself in your room.” Twilight smiled sheepishly and then frowned again. “I don’t think they meant to be, but they acted a little insensitive.”
“Oh? I hadn’t really noticed. My mind was... occupied with other matters.” Rarity frowned. “But I’m sure they were just trying to help in their own way.” She stood back to examine the mannequins. The light from the windows didn’t bounce off them quite as they should, she thought. Perhaps if they faced the other direction...
“I’m still sorry” Twilight said, joining her in realigning the mannequins. “I guess they thought it would work with you too. They did pretty much the same thing when we were with Sugar Sweet that night.”
The mannequin Rarity had been lifting fell clattering to the ground. She quickly pulled it back upright. Sugar Sweet’s name brought a very different kind of tightness to her chest.
She steadied herself on her hooves, hoping Twilight didn’t notice her slight blush. She realized with a start that it wasn’t just shame and guilt that quickened her heartbeat at the mention of Sugar Sweet, but a kind of excitement at the guilty, shameful memories that name brought to her mind.
She shook her head. After everything that had happened, her thoughts and feelings still blazed out of her control, galloping far ahead of her hooves.
But then again, she thought, Applejack had told her to find somepony who liked her for her. Sugar Sweet certainly fit that description, and Rarity had no desire to bear her nights alone any longer. If not Applejack then why not Sugar Sweet? Surely she could make as good a companion as anypony else. Or were her thoughts twisting themselves into knots again?
“Are you alright?”
Rarity looked up with a start to find Twilight staring at her. “Oh, uh...” Rarity made a pitiful attempt at a casual laugh. “I was just thinking.”
“What about? Anything I can help with?”
Rarity hesitated, but so many of her private thoughts had been revealed to her friends already, perhaps it no longer mattered. “You mentioned you spent some time with Sugar Sweet?”
“Yeah, with Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie. Why?”
“Well,” Rarity poked uncertainly at a nearby mannequin, “what did you think of her?”
Twilight shrugged. “I only really saw her for a little while, but she seemed friendly.”
“Oh?” Rarity did her best to appear inconspicuous, fully realizing she probably looked anything but as a result. “And what did you all do together?”
Twilight shrugged again. “Talked mostly. There were some donuts too.”
“And what did you talk about?”
“Uh, nothing really specific,” Twilight said, scratching her head. “Rainbow and Pinkie were joking around most of the time. Um, she told us why she first came to Ponyville.”
Rarity’s ears perked up. “She’s not not from Ponyville?”
“No.” Twilight passed her a puzzled look. “You spent all that time with her and you never knew where she was from?”
That gave Rarity pause. Sugar Sweet had spent all of their time together pretending to be somepony else. What else didn’t she know about her? “I guess I always simply assumed she was from Ponyville.”
Twilight glanced over her shoulder, looking to the window. “It’s getting late.” She turned back to Rarity. “Is there some reason you’re asking me about Sugar Sweet?”
Rarity grimaced. Leave it to Twilight to be so blunt. “Uh, no. I suppose not. You should probably head back to the library soon, or Spike’s going to start getting jealous.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Twilight replied with a chuckle, walking to the door.
“Don’t let me keep you,” Rarity said after a pause, following Twilight back.
“I’m sorry to leave so soon, Rarity,” Twilight said, stopping by the door. “You’re more than welcome to stay with us tonight, if you want.”
Rarity shook her head. “No, I’m sure I’ve taken up too much of your time as it is. Thank you again for your help.”
“I’m happy to help. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Rarity watched Twilight step outside, a growing knot coiling in her stomach. Dreadfully soon, she would be alone with her thoughts again, nothing to distract her from names like Applejack and Sugar Sweet. And more than that, she would be alone without either. “Wait!” she cried.
Twilight stopped mid step through the doorway. She looked over her shoulder. “Yeah?”
Rarity cleared her throat to compose herself before continuing in a more normal tone, “There’s something I wanted to ask you.”
“Is something wrong?” Twilight asked after she’d walked back inside.
“Nothing is wrong. I just...” Her voice trailed off as she looked to the side, avoiding Twilight’s eyes. “I was thinking about Ap—Sugar Sweet.”
Rarity wasn’t sure what reaction she’d expected from her friend, but she didn’t get any. Twilight did not become angry, or disgusted, or even skeptical. “Okay, what about her?” was all she said in response.
What indeed, Rarity thought. “Well, I suppose I was thinking about apologizing to her.”
“Alright. I’m sure she would appreciate it.” Twilight smiled and scratched her head. “I’m not sure why you’re telling me though.”
Rarity bit her lip. “And I was thinking about doing something more.”
“Okay?” Twilight laughed. “You’re acting just like Spike when he’s skipped out on one of his chores.”
Rarity sighed. Twilight would make her say it out loud. “Something like ask her out to dinner, or something of that nature.”
Twilight’s smile fell, but not into a scowl. “You mean you want to ask her out on a date?”
“Well...” Rarity drew a hoof through her mane. “Yes, I suppose I do.”
After a long pause, Twilight replied, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Rarity.”
It was the exact response Rarity had anticipated, more or less, but she still could not stop the disappointed frown that spread over her face. “Why not?”
“Applejack—”
“Applejack does not decide whom I am and am not allowed to associate with,” Rarity said with a stamp of her hoof. “I’ll go to dinner with whomever I please.”
“Okay, that’s fair,” Twilight said, raising her hoof. “But you shouldn’t ignore your friends’ feelings. It’s your decision, but you’re not the only pony it affects. Have you even thought about how Sugar Sweet might feel about this? You said you just rejected her yourself not two days ago.”
Rarity opened her mouth to tell Twilight she was being ridiculous, that of course Sugar Sweet would be happy. But her voice caught in her throat. She wanted to tell Twilight no, but she realized the truth was she hadn’t thought much about how Sugar Sweet would feel. She closed her mouth.
“What I mean is,” Twilight went on, “are you doing this because you want to be with Sugar Sweet, or is it just that you’ve been through alot this past week and you want... well, I’m really sorry if this sounds rude, but you want somepony to comfort you?”
“...No,” Rarity replied, feeling like a liar.
Twilight tilted her head to the side. “Are you sure? It isn’t a good idea to jump straight into a new relationship just after a breakup.”
Rarity snorted. “How would you know?” She winced. She hadn’t meant it to so sound so rude. “I’m sorry, but have you ever even been in a relationship before, Twilight?”
“Well, no,” Twilight admitted. “But I’ve studied the dynamics of romantic relationships. After all, in many cases it’s an extension or progression of a pre-existing friendship.”
Rarity had to screw her eyelids shut to keep from rolling her eyes and just barely managed to cut a laugh short in her throat. There was no reason to be mean. Twilight was only trying to help, however naive she might be.
“I think you’re experiencing what’s referred to as a rebound,” Twilight said, ignoring Rarity’s reaction. “Sometimes ponies almost immediately start a new relationship after a breakup to distract themselves from the emotional pain of ending the first one.”
“No,” Rarity said, looking Twilight in her eyes. “Sugar Sweet wants to be with me.”
Twilight held Rarity’s stare. “Maybe, but have you thought about how much you really know about her or what she wants? Don’t take this the wrong way, but you didn’t even know she wasn’t from Ponyville until tonight.”
“I—I’ve known her for months!” Rarity cried. Though even as she said it she wasn’t certain. Twilight, for all of her bookish naivete, was saying something that sounded awfully similar to good sense.
“I’m not trying to start an argument,” Twilight replied calmly. “I guess you were never technically in a relationship with Applejack, but it still seems too soon. I’m just saying that you need to be honest about why you really want to be with Sugar Sweet. Do you really like her, or are you just using her to distract yourself from Applejack? Do you just want to be with her because you’re lonely?”
Rarity remained silent. Once again, she wanted to tell Twilight no, but realized she honestly didn’t know for certain.
Twilight smiled. “I realize this has probably been hard for you. But I’ll be here for you, and so will the rest of your friends. Even Applejack. I think you should make up with Sugar Sweet, but I don’t think it would be fair to use her just to make dealing with not being with Applejack easier.”
“That’s... that’s not what I wanted to do,” Rarity said quietly.
“I know you didn’t,” Twilight said, wrapping a foreleg around Rarity’s withers in a quick hug. “I know you wouldn’t hurt somepony on purpose. Just think this through.”
Rarity sighed in defeat. “You’re right.”
“You don’t have to give up that easily.” Twilight said with a laugh. “I’m just saying you should think about the real reason you want to be with her. If you do want to start a real relationship with her, and you think that’ll make you both happy, then I say go for it.”
Rarity sat down on her haunches and rubbed her temples. “I don’t know, Twilight. I don’t know anymore. I used to have a plan, this was all supposed to go a certain way. And then Blueblood and then Applejack, and now I don’t know.”
Twilight shrugged. “Well, just don’t jump into anything too soon. Either way, I think an apology is a great idea. And I think Sugar Sweet is a pony worth getting to know.”
“Thank you,” Rarity said with a nod. “I suppose you should get back now.”
Twilight smiled. “No, I can stay as long as you need.”
Rarity shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine.”
Twilight hugged her close before turning back and opening the door again. “Well, just remember that you can come over anytime you want. See you tomorrow.” With a final wave goodbye she walked out and closed the door.
So Rarity sat alone by lines of hanging dresses and skirts. Her legs shivered. It wasn’t so much the aloneness that frightened her as it was the stillness of it. The dresses at her side didn’t sway with any passing draft. No one walked among the racks to admire her work or to simply pass the time. Opal didn’t saunter by, swatting at customers or loose threads of yarn. Everything in the room stood absolutely and dreadfully still. All Rarity heard was the sound of her own muted heartbeat.
She tried to keep her mind as still as her surroundings, and away from thoughts of pink and orange ponies. Zecora had offered to teach her the art of meditation once, to clear her mind of unruly thoughts. Rarity now desperately regretted not accepting. She walked back to the workroom, looking for anything to distract herself.
She stopped in front of the dress she’d fashioned for the Duchess. Applejack had modeled it for her. The farm pony had looked absolutely stunning. It would be a shame for anypony but her to wear it.
What did she want from Sugar Sweet? Or even Applejack? When she’d been a filly, she’d wanted somepony strong and handsome and cultured, a great stallion to save her from slobbering monsters and clever villains. Now, Rarity wasn’t sure. She simply wanted somepony to be with, to share her life and her work with, who she could care for and would care for her in return. Applejack, steadfast and sturdy as the trees she spent her life caring for, seemed perfect. But Applejack didn’t want her, wouldn’t even give her a chance. Sugar Sweet did, or had, but Rarity hadn’t even given her a chance. Everything thing had gone topsy turvy.
She looked back up at the dress. No, she realized, it hadn’t been Applejack who had modeled for her. It had been Sugar Sweet, her coat still blazing orange, who had looked so stunning. How many dresses had she modeled for her? It must have been dozens. Rarity badly wanted to see Sugar Sweet in the dress again, but in her natural colors. Would she still be so beautiful?
That was the only common thread to her roaming thoughts—Sugar Sweet. She wanted to see her, see her smile and hear her laugh.
Rarity shook her head. She picked the dress up in her magic, slipped it into a garment bag, and rested it flat across her back. Then she turned and walked out the front door. Somepony deserved an apology, at the very least.
Rarity enjoyed the feeling of her hooves falling on cobblestone, each step accompanied by a satisfying clap. Most of Ponyville’s streets were dirt, making it nigh impossible to keep one’s hooves clean. It was still a young town, lacking the development of even the smaller cities. But Rarity had grown fond of the little hamlet, dirt roads and all. It might be simple, but it could also be cozy and welcoming. Even so, she knew there was little in Ponyville that would be considered suitable for the gentility, that could compare to the glittering courts of Canterlot or the gleaming skyrises of Manehattan. But Ivory Street came close.
Here, cobblestone replaced dirt, and on either side of the street hummed the neat, spacious homes and apartments that housed Ponyville’s few truly wealthy. Rarity recognized a number of her customers in the groups she passed by, and, in spite of her best efforts, many of her customers recognized her. Most of her regulars lived on Ivory Street, and it seemed as if she walked by every one of them. A dozen different ponies stopped to greet her, share some bit of tedious gossip, and ask what she was doing in the neighborhood so late. Rarity smiled, pretended to listen, and replied that she was there on business, pointing to the dress slung over back and trotting away.
Any other night, she would have enjoyed meeting with Ponyville’s pseudo-aristocracy. But she’d spent most of the evening tracking down Sugar Sweet, carrying the cumbersome dress on her back all the way. She felt sweaty, hot, frustrated, and in dire need of a cool bath. She had quickly realized that she didn’t have the faintest idea where Sugar Sweet lived, and it didn’t seem like anypony else she asked did either.
Finally, she had given up and asked Pinkie Pie for directions and a Pinkie promise not to say a word to anyone else. Pinkie Pie knew the address of everypony who lived in Ponyville, as well as their birthday, favorite flavor of ice cream, and preferred breakfast cereal. In Sugar Sweet’s case it had been an apartment on Ivory Street, in precisely 47 days, strawberry, and Cheerioats. She’d been skeptical that Sugar Sweet could have lived in such a well-off neighborhood, but she had nowhere else to look.
Checking and rechecking the number by the door, Rarity walked up the steps to the apartment Pinkie had directed her to. Just when she reached a hoof out to knock, the door of the next apartment over opened.
An older mare walked out with at least a dozen fake pearl necklaces jingling together around her neck, as if believing the more necklaces she wore the more distinguished she would look. “Rarity!” she exclaimed. “Well, what a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe this pleasure? Is that a delivery?”
After a moment, Rarity recognized her as Voilet, a semi-frequent customer. She sighed and smiled. Ivory Street wasn’t Canterlot; Voilet was among the foolish few who pretended otherwise “Good evening. I’m actually here to see the unicorn who lives in this apartment. Do you know her?”
“Not really,” Voilet replied. “She is seldom home. She has been living here for some time, but I don’t believe I’ve seen her more than once or twice.”
“It is Sugar Sweet’s apartment though, is it not?”
“Is that her name?” Voilet asked with a snort. “She is a pretty little thing, but garish, loud, and none too bright. Just between you and me, I don’t believe she fits in here.”
Rarity felt her ears burn at the blunt description of Sugar Sweet, but she checked her tongue. She didn’t know what could compel a mare to saunter about in public covered in fake jewlery, but Voilet had made a sort of hobby out of it. Rarity doubted she realized how ridiculous she looked, and Rarity took some solace in that.
“Dear, a word of advice,” Voilet said, leaning forward and lowering her voice. “It probably isn’t in your best interest to associate with that girl. I have heard some nasty rumors about her.”
Rarity shifted the dress on her back, silently praying to any god who might listen to hurry Voilet on her way. “What kind of rumors?”
“Well, they say she’s an escort.” Voilet shuddered. “I’ve heard she works for Miss Velvet, and everypony knows what it is she does for a living.”
Rarity’s ears burned like they were on fire. She turned away so Voilet wouldn’t see her flush. “Thank you,” she said quickly.
Voilet stepped back, smiling and raising her head. “I really must be going, but I will be sure to come by the Boutique tomorrow to see your newest work.”
“Of course,” Rarity replied, waiting until she was out of sight before turning to the door.
She knocked, and waited. She knocked again, but heard no sound from the other side of the door. She became anxious, tapping her hoof on the ground. She hadn’t called in advance. Sugar Sweet couldn’t have known she was coming, and Voilet had said she was rarely at home anyway. What a stupid waste this would all have been, she thought.
She knocked again, and the door opened.
“...Rarity?” Sugar Sweet asked, looking at Rarity as if she thought somepony had played a trick on her.
“Yes,” Rarity said with a wide smile. “How are you?”
Sugar Sweet paused, glancing over Rarity’s shoulder. “Uh, fine I guess. How’re you?”
“Doing better,” Rarity replied. “May I come in. There is something I’d like to speak to you about.”
“Oh, yeah, definitely!” Sugar Sweet said, brightening and jumping aside to let Rarity in.
“Your home is fabulous,” Rarity exclaimed after she’d walked in and looked around. Indeed, it was fabulous. Rarity suspected this one small apartment must have cost more than the whole of Carousel Boutique. It easily rivaled the best that Canterlot had to offer. A great stonework fireplace dominated one wall, elaborate woodwork spanned the ceiling and floor, and through a doorway towards the back Rarity spotted a bed that put her own to shame. And it all looked remarkably clean. If there was ever a home that could have been described as spotless, this was it.
“Yeah,” Sugar Sweet laughed. “Bet you can’t guess how jealous my dad would be if he knew, like, how nice my place was now.”
“I’m sure.” Rarity realized the apartment wasn’t just clean, it was barren. She didn’t see any furniture besides the bed, a sofa large enough for at least four ponies to sit on at once, and a cheap little folding table. The fireplace sat cold, and the couch stood empty. The only indication that anypony lived in the room at all was a stack of magazines resting on the floor. “Did you just move in recently?” she asked.
“Nah, I’ve been here pretty long. I just don’t really know what else to, like, put up on the walls and stuff. I was just eating,” Sugar Sweet said, pointing to a pitiful salad on the table. “Want some?”
“No thank you,” Rarity replied. She eyed the empty apartment, a queer contrast to the vibrant pony living within its walls. “Sugar Sweet, I came here to...” Rarity’s voice trailed away as she tried to decide why she had come. “Could we sit down?”
“Yeah, sure!” Sugar Sweet jumped on the sofa, bobbing up and down on its cushions. She waved Rarity over.
Rarity followed her, turning to sit down.
“Hey! No way,” Sugar Sweet protested. “No pony’s allowed to sit down on this couch without bouncing first.”
Rarity froze somewhere halfway between sitting and standing. Rarity cleared her throat stiffly. “Eh, no, I’m sorry. A lady does not, er, bounce.”
“You don’t have to be a lady all the time. Sometimes you can just, like, have fun, you know.”
Rarity snorted. “One can be a lady and still have fun.”
“I guess, but it’s not like there’s anypony here to see you if you stop being a lady for one second. Just me anyway.” Sugar Sweet awkwardly coughed and looked away. “Like, never mind. My couch, my rules. If you wanna sit you have to bounce. Or are you too scared?” she asked with a silly little smirk.
Rarity most certainly was not scared. Still, she looked around to make sure no pony else could see her first. She smiled and laid the garment bag on the ground. If Sugar Sweet wanted to see a bounce, she’d show her a bounce. Rarity backed up, taking a running start and leaping off her hooves. She crashed down hard onto the cushion, sending Sugar Sweet laughing into the air and sprawling over the sofa.
“How was that?” Rarity asked, giggling.
“Good,” Sugar Sweet answered quietly. She stayed on her stomach, facing away from Rarity, her laughter spent.
“Is something wrong?” Rarity asked.
“Um, I, uh, don’t think I’m, like, really supposed to see you as a client anymore,” Sugar Sweet responded, her voice muffled by the cushion. “You know, after what happened. I kind of forgot when I first saw you, but I’m not allowed anymore.”
“Well,” Rarity said, lightly poking Sugar Sweet in her side, “I’m not here as a client then.”
Sugar Sweet looked over her shoulder. “What are you here as then?”
“I’m here...” Rarity considered carefully. “I’m here as your friend.”
Sugar Sweet blinked, and then giggled. “Oh, yeah, that’s cool.” She sat up. “Yeah, that’s, like, really cool. What are you doing with that bag? Is it a dress?”
Rarity hesitated before floating the garment bag up onto the sofa. “Sugar Sweet, I came here to... to apologize.”
Sugar Sweet’s smiled dropped. “It’s okay—”
“No,” Rarity said shortly. “It’s not okay. I said terrible, horrible things to you. Things no pony should ever say to a friend. I really and truly am sorry. I’ve treated you unfairly, and you deserve better. I want you to have this.” She slid the Duchess’s dress out of the bag and floated it in front of Sugar Sweet. “I know I can’t make up for everything with a single dress, but I hope this will make for a good start.”
Sugar Sweet’s eyes went wide. “Rarity, you can’t give this to me.”
“It’s my dress,” Rarity replied. “I may give my dresses to whomever I please.”
Sugar Sweet frowned and poked at the dress, then she quickly drew her hoof back, as if she expected it to rear up and bite her. “You can’t give this to me. Isn’t this for some important pony?”
“You are an important pony,” Rarity replied. “I want you to have this.”
Sugar Sweet looked between Rarity and the dress. “R-really?”
Rarity nodded. “Yes, really.”
Hesitance gone, Sugar Sweet grabbed the dress and jumped off the sofa, swirling it in circles around herself. “Oh wow! Thank you so much! This is, like, the prettiest dress I’ve ever seen. Thank you, thank you!”
Rarity smiled. Correction: there was nothing she enjoyed so much as giving a gift to somepony she cared about. “I’ve been thinking,” she said, “that everypony deserves to be given a chance. And I never gave you that chance.”
Sugar Sweet stopped. “What do you mean?”
“Just that. I’d like to give you that chance, to give you and me a chance.”
First, Sugar Sweet simply blinked, then she grinned and made as if to laugh and tackle Rarity in a hug, and then finally her smile vanished and her legs halted. She bit her lip. “Rarity, I don’t wanna... If you’re just gonna throw me away again...”
“I promise you I won’t,” Rarity said, the words tasting bitter. “I promise I’ll never let somepony get hurt like that again, especially you.”
Sugar Sweet grinned. And then she was upon her. Moving like a flash of lightning, she launched herself at Rarity, grabbing her in a hug. “Oh, thank you, thank you!” she cried, kissing Rarity on her snout and cheek and forehead. “I knew it, I knew it! I knew you loved me.”
Instead of the warmth she’d hoped for, all Rarity felt was an aching, lingering disappointment. She realized that beneath the orange coat and brown cowpony hat, Sugar Sweet was no knight in shining armor ready to save her from her demons, or singing nymph ready to whisk her away from all her troubles, but just another lonely mare.
“Wait,” Rarity said, holding a hoof up to stop her. “Wait. I’m so sorry. Twilight was right.”
“What?”
Rarity crawled out from beneath her. “I’m sorry. I’m so stupid,” she said, the words tumbling out. “Twilight was right. I don’t know you at all. I’m just making the same mistake all over again. I am so sorry.”
“What?” Sugar repeated, her eyes wide and confused. “What are you talking about? You don’t know me?”
“I don’t though,” Rarity said. “I don’t know where you’re from, or anything about your family, or why you came to Ponyville, or anything about you. We’re strangers.”
“What? I know you. We’re not strangers. Why would any of that matter anyway?” Sugar Sweet asked. “Like, what does any of that have to with being in love?”
Rarity sighed. “It does matter. How can two ponies be in love if they don’t even know each other? I am so sorry.”
The silence that followed stretched on for what Rarity was sure must have been weeks, waiting for Sugar Sweet to answer. She noticed a crack in the wall behind the sofa. She followed it down to a broken sewing machine on the floor, and saw a familiar cloak stuck in its needle. She glanced over at Sugar Sweet, imagining her, forsaken, crying, and angry, throwing the machine into the wall. Rarity felt a pang in her chest at the image. She had caused so much hurt, she considered leaving before she would cause anymore.
Beside her, Sugar Sweet frowned down at the dress, left lying forgotten on the floor, chewing her cheek. Rarity had just begun to stand up and say good bye when Sugar Sweet interrupted her.
“I’m from Fillydelphia,” she said quickly, not looking up. “My dad’s a stupid hypocrite, and I don’t have any brothers or sisters. I was going to Los Pegasus to be a model, but I only had enough money to get to Ponyville. And, uh, my favorite color is purple. Is that good enough?” she asked, looking up. “I—like, I don’t see how any of that matters.”
“Then how did you become a... get into, er, your current line of work?” Rarity asked, sitting back down.
“There’s, like, not any modeling work in Ponyville at all,” Sugar Sweet said with a huff. “I just needed to make enough money to get to Los Pegasus. Uh, I met Miss Velvet pretty quick, and she gave me a place to stay. She told me she had a job that I would be really good at because I’m, like, really good at transformation magic.” She shrugged.
“You are,” Rarity agreed. “Where did you learn how to do that?”
“I don’t know.” Sugar Sweet shrugged again. “Nowhere, I guess. It’s just always kind of made sense to me.”
“So, you said you wanted to be a model?” Rarity asked.
“Oh, yeah. More than anything,” Sugar Sweet said, immediately perking up. “When I was little we used to put on these fashion shows behind our house. Every filly on our street would come. I never won, but they were really fun.”
Rarity laughed, remembering. “I used to do the same thing.”
“I bet you won though,” Sugar Sweet said, smiling.
“Well, yes.” Rarity smirked. “But only because I would ransack my mother’s closet and wear her dresses. Most of the other fillies didn’t have any. My mother would get angry, but I don’t think she was really upset. One day she told me that if wanted dresses I should just make my own, so she taught me how to knit and sew. Do you still have any interest in fashion shows?” she asked, moving closer. “I attend quite a few.”
“Definitely!” Sugar Sweet chirped, jumping off the sofa and running to the stack of magazines on the ground, grabbing a hoof-full. Rarity recognized them, the same fashion magazines she subscribed to herself. She suspected Sugar Sweet’s had seen far more use than hers though, the pages were folded and torn, and the binding nearly broken.
Sugar Sweet opened one, flipping back and forth through its pages. “Look at this one!” she said, pointing at an image of a mare standing by a waterfall and wearing a simple, airy skirt whose color matched the blue of the waterfall. “Isn’t she so super pretty?” Sugar Sweet asked, holding the magazine close to her muzzle, her eyes eager.
“She is,” Rarity said. “That’s one of Hourglass’s designs. I met him once. He told me the best dresses were an extension of the mare, and designers should avoid being overly decorative and showy. I can’t say that I agree, but I can’t argue with his results either.”
“Oh, cool! What about this one?” Sugar Sweet asked, turning the page and pointing to another picture.
“Hmm, I believe this is one of Tenor Trend’s. Do you see the way the hems are cut so they’re jagged and uneven?” she asked, pointing at the dress. “That’s very popular in Cloudsdale this season. Something about pegasi wanting to look wild and untamed while in flight.”
“Oh, wow,” Sugar Sweet murmured. “You know so much about these.”
“Well, it is what I do for a living,” Rarity replied with a smile.
Sugar Sweet nodded, but she kept staring down at the mare in the picture. “Wouldn’t it be so cool to be in one of these magazines? Like, everypony would see you and think how super pretty you were.”
“I suppose, but you don’t have to be in a magazine to be pretty,” Rarity said carefully. “Even so, I know some ponies. I’m sure I could speak with them and get you an interview.”
“Really? That’d be awesome!” Sugar Sweet’s smile dropped. “Oh wait, no, I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I mean, thanks and that’s really nice, but I, like, want this to be something I did myself, you know? I wanna do it because I did it, not because I know somepony who knows somepony else.”
“I understand.” Rarity eyed the expensive apartment. “Wait, didn’t you say you were only staying in Ponyville to make enough money to go to Los Pegasus. Surely you have more than enough by now. If you still want to be a model, why haven’t you left?”
Sugar Sweet chuckled weakly, looking down and away. “Yeah, I mean, I do. But Miss Velvet said this was kind of like modeling anyway, and that I’m really good at it, and I’m making a lot of other ponies really happy.”
Rarity frowned. “Making other ponies happy is commendable, but it shouldn’t be at the expense of your own.”
“I guess,” Sugar Sweet replied before smiling at Rarity again. “But I met somepony here that I, like, really, uh, like too.”
Rarity’s ears perked, ever ready to hear some gossip. “Oh? Do tell.”
“Uh.” Sugar Sweet laughed. “Duh.”
“Oh, right,” Rarity said with a giggle. “My apologies. But maybe there’s been somepony else?”
“What?” Rarity asked. “I can’t be the only pony you know.”
“I mean, I do know ponies,” Sugar Sweet said quickly, her face flushing. “It’s just, Miss Velvet says that our clients like privacy, so I’m not really supposed to be around anypony that they know. You know, so they don’t get upset. And Ponyville is really small, so pretty much everypony knows, like, everypony else.” She shrugged.
“You don’t mean that you don’t know anypony outside of your clients, do you?” Rarity asked, feeling more and more dismayed.
“I know ponies,” Sugar Sweet said, looking away and prodding at the sofa’s cushion. “Who cares?”
“I do,” Rarity replied slowly. “You’re not lonely, are you?”
“No. This is stupid!” Sugar Sweet said suddenly. “Rarity, this is stupid,” she repeated, looking her in the eyes. “I love you. What does any of this other stuff even matter?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. But—” Rarity hesitated. A familiar question caught halfway up her throat. If she hadn’t been willing to answer it, why should she expect anyone else to? “Do you just want to be with her because you’re lonely?” she murmured.
“What? No way!”
“Then why? You say you love me, but do you have any idea why?” Rarity asked, like an accusation.
“Yeah, I definitely know,” Sugar Sweet replied quickly, leaning close. “Maybe at first I was kind of lonely, and you were really nice to me. But that’s not it. Rarity, I love you because you see the something beautiful in everything and everypony. There are tons of ponies who never see anything beautiful in anything. It’s, like, they just walk around and only ever see the ugly, and maybe there’s a lot of ugly to see.”
Sugar Sweet sighed, slowly resting the side of her head against Rarity’s chest. Hesitantly, Rarity laid a hoof around her. It felt natural, like they were made to rest against each other.
“You’re, like, super special, Rarity,” Sugar Sweet said, not looking up. “You know most ponies probably look at your friend Applejack and think she’s, like, just some dumb country pony. But you saw something really great in her most ponies never could. I always thought, maybe, you saw something kind of great in me too, the way you talked to me.”
Rarity had to look away, her eyes stinging, wondering why she couldn’t answer that question so easily, not even if Applejack had asked her. More and more, she began to feel she didn’t know anything at all about love. But here a mare sat giving her a genuine affection that she now knew for certain she did not deserve.
She tilted her muzzle down and gently kissed Sugar Sweet’s forehead through her messy mane. “Thank you,” she said.
Sugar Sweet murmured something Rarity didn’t catch, pressing her cheek to Rarity’s coat.
Rarity tried to speak, but her voice choked. “What if,” she tried again, “I only wanted to be with you because I was lonely?”
“Uh, I guess, like, that would really, really suck.” Sugar Sweet turned and looked up at her, golden eyes trembling. “You don’t, right? That’s not why, right?”
“I—I honestly don’t know.” Rarity bit her lip. “I am so sorry.”
“Oh,” Sugar Sweet said. She turned back around.
Rarity closed her eyes. She wanted throw her own head against that wall, and then lie in forgotten pieces behind the sofa. FInally, a pony had told her they loved her. She had waited so long, and now she couldn’t say it herself. She opened her mouth to say something, she didn’t even know what. But then warm lips pushed against her own.
Rarity’s eyes shot open, her mouth hanging half open. Sugar Sweet wrapped one foreleg around her head and kissed her, fervent and beautiful, pouring feeling into Rarity’s mouth and down her throat. Rarity let her eyes drift shut again, her heart beating loud in her ears, her face burning. It felt just like she had always thought being kissed by somepony who loved her should.
Sugar Sweet pulled away. “What about that?” she asked, breath hot on Rarity’s mouth.
Rarity couldn’t find her voice, so she dragged Sugar Sweet back down, feeling delightfully vulgar.
“I don’t know,” she finally said, gasping for air. “Sugar Sweet, I don’t know anymore. I had a plan. It was supposed to happen somehow.”
Sugar Sweet leaned over her and kissed her again, just barely, just enough that Rarity wished for something more.
“Why can’t it happen like this?” she asked. “Like, who cares how two ponies get together? Who cares if you’re lonely? You said you came here to give me a chance. Then do it.”
Rarity took a breath. “Yes,” she said, smiling and seeing her and Sugar Sweet together, instead of Applejack, laughing and happy at one of Pinkie’s parties, dressed beautifully on a street in Canterlot, lying together in bed one morning long after they both should have been up.
“Yeah,” Sugar Sweet said, her eyes sparkling just like Rarity had always thought her lover’s eyes would.
They fell together on that great big couch, in a spacious den, of an expensive apartment by cobbled, well-lit streets. At the same time it was both exactly what Rarity had expected and nothing like it at all. She didn't know why it had happened this way, and she knew even less of what would happen to them both next. But she felt for the first time that maybe it would be okay if she didn't end up with the mare she'd expected to, and maybe it was okay if it didn't go according to any of her plans.
