Fine clothes for non-ponies was something Rarity usually enjoyed making. It was a challenge - and she so rarely had a challenge these days. One of the terrible consequences of experience was gaining mastery over her art. Creating clothes for other races was refreshing because it threw away many underlying assumptions that were pony-centric. You couldn't just take a pony design and put it on a dragon or a hippogriff or a yak.
Or in this case, a griffon.
All things considered, Gabby was holding remarkably still for the fitting, limiting it only to a few squirms here and there. She was normally a ball of energy no matter the circumstance - a veritable dynamo brimming with enthusiasm and cheer. And today she had more reason to be excited than her already high usual. What mare wouldn't be the day before her wedding?
A cold needle jabbed into Rarity's heart as she thought that word again.
It didn't seem real. Like it was some kind of strange dream. Spike still sat as a child in her mind - perhaps an early adolescent at most. Not on the cusp of one of the biggest events of his adult life, forever discarding his childhood.
Except he never would do that, would he? There would still be comic books and sneaking gemstone snacks at midnight. Playing games with his friends and causing mischief with any foal he encountered. Rarity tittered to herself at the thought. Spike would never truly abandon those things, because they were a part of him.
Still, there was something surreal about it all. Rarity could remember Spike as little more than a baby - sleeping curled up in a basket at the foot of Twilight's bed. Now he was sleeping--
Gabby smiled down at her, face full of innocence and giddy enthusiasm.
Rarity faltered as she swallowed down bile.
A part of her wanted to hurt that smile. Spike had been hers once - at least, that's what she told herself. He had hung on her every word, put himself through any trial just to see her bat her eyelashes and spare him a compliment.
She hadn't returned those feelings. Teased at them, sure, but never truly met him on even terms. Never even entertained it. A bit of Rarity was shamed by that - she knew how she'd abused his love was uncouth at best and borderline evil at worst. At the same time, Rarity knew there was no way she could have resisted it. In her heart, she was an artist and the gushing of even a single adoring fan was enough to make her soar.
And Spike had never been anything but adoring. It was a drug. Rarity knew it had been bad - for both of them - but knowing and doing were far different things. Even now, hemming his bride's dress, a part of her kept clawing back. He was hers. First, foremost and forever.
Rarity jabbed herself in the frog with a pin to break herself out of that toxic thought.
No, not forever. That she was at Gabby's side told that story clearly. And honestly, Rarity knew she had lost it years ago. But knowing and knowing were different things.
So today hurt. Her heart was full of joy - a dear, dear friend was to be married - and it was full of loss - it was the final nail in the coffin of Spike's adoration.
Maybe if she'd returned his feelings. Or maybe kissed him. Not a peck on the cheek but a proper kiss, like she'd given her string of failed relationships that stretched longer than Fluttershy's tail. That would have kept him, she was sure of it. Spike had never been able to say no, and if she'd just tried a little harder--
The sweep of Rarity's eyes over her work caught Gabby's for just a fraction of a second. That was enough to quench the flame of her jealousy. Because she could instantly see the love in those eyes. Love that wasn't in her own.
She probably could have kept Spike following her like a puppy, but that wouldn't have made it right. Because no matter what she told herself, Rarity knew she didn't love him. Not like he deserved and certainly not like Gabby did. It was daylight clear.
And it wasn't like he didn't still adore Rarity. Spike still attended every one of her shows he could, they still could talk to the barest hours of the morning about everything and nothing, and he still looked at her with a constant smile and his lips ready to give her praise.
Rarity was unfathomably lucky. She knew it.
That just drove the knife harder into her heart. She didn't deserve him.
Maybe, she considered, that was for the best - for her as well as for him. Spike had always been a kind of safety net throughout her own failed relationships - Rarity had always known he would be there for her. And in the back of her mind, that might have been why she never rejected him outright.
Now there was no safety net. He wouldn't throw her out when she came with teary eyes looking for comfort, but there was no longer the chance to say 'Well, there's always Spike'. Maybe this would force her to take more chances and--
And Rarity frowned to herself. This was exactly the problem. One of her best friends was to be married tomorrow. She was an integral part of that - not just the dress, but also attending and being there for him. And rather than thinking of their happiness, she was focused on how this would affect her.
All she was doing was poisoning the well - setting up yet more bitterness for the future. She was turning what was supposed to be a joyous moment into a chance to be angry. Spike deserved better than that, and Rarity didn't want their relationship as friends to be as throughly ruined as so many of her relationships with lovers had been.
Once more, Rarity looked to her client-- no. This was Gabby. Spike's beloved. One of her sister's closest friends. A griffon Rarity had known since she was a kit. This was far more than a client. She - they - deserved the world.
Adjusting one of the sleeves slightly, Rarity finally spoke. "Excited?"
Gabby - who had been holding in barely restrained silence as Rarity worked, practically vibrating with eagerness - replied with her trademark enthusiasm turned up to twelve. "Yes!"
With a warm smile, Rarity confided in her. "Me too, darling."
