My Curse

by Craine

Rating: teen
Tags: Sad, Main 6, Romance, Applejack, Rarity, Sex, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 4033

'Your silence haunts me. But, still, I hunger for you. This is my curse.'--RariJack

Applejack is Rarity's curse.

Inspired by the lyrical genius of Killswitch Engage, 'As Daylight Dies' Album: My Curse

Rated "Teen" for heavy suggestive themes, lime, and intense emotional situations. Enjoy!

Published 2013-05-26 23:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-05-26 23:40:02 UTC

"There is Love"

For as long she could remember, Rarity hated hospitals. Honestly, the whole thing was silly, and Rarity knew it. With every hoof-fall on tile, reeking of sanitizer, she’d always fight the shivers that crawled up her spine. And she’d always chuckle at herself. It was absurd, really. A dignified mare, such as her? Crippled by forgotten filly-hood nightmares?

She had every reason to laugh at herself. And she thought everypony else would too, if she said anything. She never did, though. Not to any of them. She’d never say why the tiniest glint of needles squeezed her heart with an icy grip. Or why Sweetie Belle’s first Flu shot had her rocking in her seat, shielding her ears from squeals and cries.

She’d put on her best face when it ended, of course. She had to. She’d always pet her little sister’s mane, reminding her how harmless it all was.

She’d always lie, yes, but Sweetie Belle always believed it.

Now?

Now, Rarity couldn’t even move. Couldn’t even shiver. Where once, the tile frosted her hooves, it now burned like hot glass. The air, once cold and thin, shot fire into her lungs. Her ears wilted, unable to process—unable to fathom—what she had just heard. Or what she was seeing.

Rarity denied it, of course. Doctors weren’t to be trusted, after all. She only wished her friends knew it too. Maybe then, they wouldn’t be making undignified fools of themselves. Maybe then, Applejack wouldn’t sit between white sheets with dimmed eyes. But they didn’t know any better. Not one of them.

Let Fluttershy and Pinkie bury their faces in Applejack’s neck. Let Twilight crush Applejack’s hips in a pointless embrace. Let Rainbow Dash jab at her ribs, and hold back useless tears. Doctors weren’t to be trusted. They could pretend all they wished with their pursed lips and glazed eyes; they were all the same.

Even as ‘I’m sorry’ slithered from his mouth, this one was no different.

On that thought, Rarity’s mind drifted. Carelessly jumping from one fact to another, one memory to another. Had she remembered to put the milk away that morning? Did Sweetie Belle pass her history test? Did she wash her sheets that morning?

“Rarity?”

She snapped back to that dreadful place—that house of death and sickness. And her eyes narrowed at the purple hoof responsible.

“Applejack… needs a little time, okay?” Rarity couldn’t look at the other unicorn. Couldn’t look at tears that shouldn’t be there.

She dragged her gaze from the hoof, then to her other friends. They stared at her like she had something important to say. But she didn’t. And it was downright unfair of them to expect that. All the same, Rarity acknowledged it. And silently—coldly—Rarity shrugs Twilight’s hoof, and sees herself out of the room.

She offered the doctor her most generous, icy glare. An infamous glare. A cautionary glare. A very sordid message. It was cruel of her, she knew, but he deserved it. Rarity sauntered on, chanting those words in her mind.

Hooves numb beneath her, Rarity mumbled in silence, forgetting the doctor and his lie with a growing to-do list.

**********

During the last several hours, Rarity resolved to treat herself. In fact, she couldn’t recall a more stimulating afternoon. Every errand, done swiftly and efficiently. Every chore, tackled with vigor. It all fell together, piece by piece. No different than stitching, Rarity thought fondly.

With a light smile, Rarity’s eyes swept over her pantry, now teeming with food. Her mind drifted to Sweetie Belle, and her smile broadened. She was a smart filly. Ran in the family. It was silly to worry about Sweetie’s history test. Why, Rarity was half tempted to cook a wonderful supper to celebrate Sweetie’s perfect score. Even better, she would give Sweetie Belle the honor-

“My word. I’ve gone quite mad, haven’t I?”

Rarity chuckled softly into the sunlit kitchen, and gently closed her pantry. She strolled through her Boutique, muscles easing at its welcoming glow. But she stopped dead in her tracks when it occurred her; it would never last. The peace. The tranquility. Rarity knew how fragile it all was. She knew her friends couldn’t leave well enough alone.

She’d like to think she saw it coming. It was quite obvious, actually. The thinned crowds at the Marketplace. The silence that wrung the life from Ponyville. Forgotten acquaintances, grieving, wishing Applejack had more time.

Rarity scowled. She shouldn’t have thought that. She shouldn’t have wondered that direction. There was nothing wrong with Applejack. She was fit and healthy as ever before. But having said that to most of her friends left her tongue soured. And Rarity’s scowl darkened, recalling how fraudulently they denied the farmer’s perfect condition.

Fluttershy, throwing her forelegs around Rarity, telling her it’d be okay. Pinkie Pie doing much less different, inviting her to a most useless party. And Twilight—good heavens, the nerve—saying she was in denial? Laughable, is what it was! Rarity knew better than any of them! They were all wrong! She had even told them that. One by one, Rarity had met their ridiculous claims with a gentle disregard.

As gentle as a door in the face could be, anyway.

And she’d do it again. She found herself glaring at the front door. Waiting. It had been hours since the last visit, but she was ready. Or, so she believed.

A fit of knocks assaulted the door. Harder and more demanding than the others were. Rarity found her heart quickened, staring uncertainly at the door. More knocks came, louder this time, and Rarity realized who it was. Even worse, she realized why all the oxygen left her living room.

With a sharp breath, Rarity reached a shaky hoof forward and gulped. She turned the knob, wincing at the door’s loud creaks as she pulled it open. No sooner had Rarity caught a sliver of blue did Rainbow Dash barge in passed her, missing Rarity’s face by mere inches. Rarity’s stomach lurched as her sense of decency took quite a blow. She slowly pushed the door closed, drawing another sharp breath to compose herself. Rarity turned to her uninvited guest, and immediately didn’t like where the visit was going. But her biggest concern was thus; Rainbow was wearing Applejack’s hat.

“Where were you, Rarity?” Rainbow demanded, brows tightly knitted.

Almost automatically, Rarity shot her eyes to the floor. “I had errands to run,” she replied flatly.

That was a stupid answer. And too late to reconsider. Rainbow’s head inclined. “That’s the best you can do? That’s your excuse for not showing up?”

Rarity lifted her nose and sauntered passed Rainbow, nearly stumbling at the heat blasting from the Pegasus. “I’ll have you know, I explicitly warned Pinkie of my absence,” Rarity said. “I thought I was quite clear.”

“Oh, yeah. Crystal clear, “Rainbow growled. “Little Miss Rarity can’t be bothered with Applejack’s last party.”

Rarity spun around. Finally, every generous and hospitable thread in her body was cut like stretched yarn. “Now, see here! I—”

In a blur, Rainbow’s nose was against a flustered Rarity’s. “No, you see here! You’ve been avoiding us all day! You don’t have an excuse!”

Rarity’s eyes widened at a sudden itch in her hoof. It only meant one thing. And if she didn’t stop it, nopony would leave Carousel Boutique with dry eyes. “What part of ‘errands to run’ escapes you?!” she insisted.

Their noses pressed together—neither willing to back down. “Crap! It’s all crap, Rarity! Sure, you fooled our friends! Sure they let you off easy! But me?! Oh, no! I’m not leaving without the truth!” Rainbow bellowed, eyes as harsh as the blistering sun.

Rarity paused at that last word. The word she’d avoided it all day. Far worse, Rarity was aware she’d avoided it. Knowing the truth didn’t help. Facing the truth didn’t help. And Rainbow? Rainbow certainly didn’t help. Rarity’s foreleg flexed behind her coat, itching even more.

Rainbow pulled away from the other mare, and threw the brown Stetson off her head. “She waited for you, you know! Everypony was there! Our friends, our friends’ friends! Everypony, except you!” She nearly spit out the final word.

Rarity narrowed a glare at—no, right through—the angry Pegasus. Rarity wasn’t stupid. She knew exactly what Rainbow was doing. She could spot a guilt-trip for miles… And it was working. Rarity’s eyes hit the floor again, her friend’s very sight driving a pit in her stomach. Her lips twitched and wiggled, muttering something all too quietly.

“What’s that?” Rainbow demanded, her own eyes narrowing.

“I said it’s all her fault!” Rarity redeemed her glare, now tearful and scorching hot.

Rainbow nearly jumped back, gasping at the unicorn’s grating tone.

“I told her this would happen! I told her she was working too hard! That she needed rest!” Rarity stamped her hooves at every sentence, her mane slowly whisking apart. “If she wasn’t so stubborn, none of this would’ve happened! All this nonsense about ‘final soirees’ would be as pointless as you being here!”

A whistling silence crept in the air. And suddenly, as her hooves froze on the floor, and her lungs cried for warmer air, Rarity’s home seemed an awful lot like a hospital. Rainbow’s mane fell passed her eyes, curtaining a resentful stare.

“She’s too good for you,” Rainbow hissed.

Rarity’s ears flicked at that remark. Long after the words were spoken, Rarity still heard them. Grating against her brain like iron on a chalkboard. “What did you just say?” Rarity’s voice lowered. Threatening. Irking.

“You heard me,” Rainbow challenged, her nostrils shooting hot steam. “You don’t deserve her.”

The last of Rarity’s self-control slipped from her, and a shaky, snow-white hoof lifted in the air. Rainbow’s neck went as rigid as a tree branch. And before either pony knew, Rainbow’s nose practically smashed into Rarity’s.

“I dare you…” Rainbow said.

Finally, Rarity became aware of her own shallow, husky breaths. Her tense, aching muscles… And Rainbow’s dripping tears. Suddenly, the very air weighed down on Rarity, crumbling the strength in her still-raised hoof.

“Go on, princess,” Rainbow said, pushing her nose harder against Rarity’s. “DO IT!”

Rarity became aware of her held breath, releasing it with a tiny squeak. She became aware of her position—asking herself, a thousand times over, what she was doing. And finally, Rarity became aware of her own tears. Her hoof dropped, hitting the polished floor like a rock on marble. She turned her head away, unable to fight it anymore. Rarity couldn’t run. Rarity couldn’t deny.

So Rarity screamed.

Nothing mattered anymore. Rarity stormed about her Boutique, a scathing curse thrown here and there. Very breakable antiques knocked off their stools. Once-precious tapestries torn off the walls. Pony-quinnes kicked over. Rarity’s body shuddered with her breaths. And her destructive rampage paused with a desperate need for air.

Rarity’s eyes shot to and fro every corner, ignoring the refuse, ignoring the twist in her heart. Her target was spotted; the abomination at fault. Unmoving. Unfazed… Unacceptable. Rarity couldn’t recall how fast she moved to it, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. And the more her hooves mercilessly trampled the brown Stetson, the less it all mattered.

It wasn’t enough, of course. Even as a pulpy brown mass, the Stetson hadn’t received nearly enough. But Rarity had nothing left to give, standing over the hat, mane disheveled. A quiet whimper escaped into the air, flicking at Rarity’s ears. She spun her raging eyes toward the source. It was Rainbow. Huddled against the front door, legs and wings protectively curled around herself.

And one step forward was all it took.

Rainbow’s flesh jumped as Rarity’s silent command echoed with her hoof-fall. The next moment, Rainbow swung the door open, and left as quickly as she’d entered.

**********

Idiots. Cowards, the whole lot of them.

Everywhere she turned, Rarity saw them, recoiling from her. Every inch she’d trot, she saw them, shuffling out of her path. Spineless jellyfish, is what they were. With a brisk pace and eyes glued straight ahead, Rarity continued down Ponyville, dutifully ignoring the widened eyes and hushed whispers that followed her.

Rarity wasn’t blind. Far from it. It was easy to see why this happened in a matter of hours, why it happened at all. It stood to reason, after all. Trashing one’s home with open curtains—in a town of loose-tongued ponies? Social suicide at its finest. Rarity wouldn’t put it passed Rainbow Dash to have a hoof in this either.

Did she care at the time? No. Perhaps. Maybe a bit…

Yes. Yes, Rarity did care. And the only suitable distraction lie ahead of her, growing and growing as she drew near. Rarity had almost stopped herself. She gravely considered her little sister’s reaction to Carousel Boutique’s… condition. But Rarity didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. Sure, Sweetie Belle was perfectly capable of making her own way home. But that day?

That day, Rarity could handle being a bit selfish.

Her pace quickened ever so lightly, ignoring the afternoon heat as Ponyville Schoolhouse stood waiting for her. A cursed rolled beneath Rarity’s tongue as she saw fillies and colts scattered through the courtyard. School was already out. And Rarity’s brisk trot slowed to a walk. Her eyes darted left and right. Sweetie Belle nor her friends were in sight.

Which only meant one thing.

With a decisive nod, Rarity switched gears and turned toward the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ Clubhouse, finding no more need to rush. Her trip was short-lived, however—derailed by a cluster of distant laughter. Almost immediately, Rarity had recognized her sister’s sweet, chiming giggles, her friends undoubtedly close by. Rarity detected another voice among them, and immediately, her heart leaped to her throat.

Rarity’s brain desperately sent shocks and signals to her hooves, commanding them to stop, to turn the other way, to never go back. Rarity’s hooves refused, busting into a frantic gallop, instead. The laughter grew louder. And before Rarity knew, she’d arrived to at the source. She peered from the lush hilltop, panting lightly with a hoof against a lone tree.

Sure enough, frolicking in the grass below, were the Cutie Mark Crusaders. And a hatless Applejack.

Running. Smiling. Laughing.

Rarity didn’t move. Rarity didn’t speak. Was this a joke? A twisted game? Question after question stabbed at Rarity’s temples, her eyes dedicated to the ponies below. The more she asked, the angrier she became. Her hoof twisted and scraped into the tree trunk, glaring down at what she could only call ‘the most absurd game of ‘tag’ in history’. The laughter continued. And soon enough, Rarity realized why she was so angry; she was trying to be. It was justifiable, wasn’t it? Here Rarity was, watching Applejack run in jagged circles. Completely and totally healthy. Utterly unaffected by her condition.

Temptation dangled at Rarity’s muzzle, taunting her like a flame would a moth. So tempted was she, to run up and tackle that shameless farmer. To shower her with curses for allowing everypony to believe she was ill. For allowing Rarity to believe it. A lofty goal? Not at all. In fact, as Rarity planted her hooves—scraping the grass with flaring nostrils—it seemed like a very reachable goal.

But the instant Applejack was tackled by all three fillies—laughing like there was no tomorrow—Rarity’s resolve crumbled. Her breath hitched as she watched them, fighting back a smile when ‘YOU’RE IT!’ rung from the blank flanks. Rarity’s legs wobbled, and she let her body fall against the tree. She reached a hoof over her melted heart, losing to the smile she fought to hold.

The laughter went on for several more moments. But soon enough, Rarity had realized the laughter was forced, hiding collective sobs. Applejack must’ve realized it too, for she only lied there, smiling sadly at the young ponies atop of her.

“It’s not fair, Applejack.” Rarity chewed her lip at Sweetie Belle’s words. “It’s not fair.

Applejack said nothing. She just lied there, smiling with no reason to speak of. Rarity looked to Scootaloo, and her smile waned. The little Pegasus tried so hard. So very hard not to cry, frowning against her own tears, clutching to Applejack like it would change anything. No sooner had an orange hoof run through that purple unkempt mane, did Scootaloo bury her face in Applejack’s chest.

Sharp cries muffled behind a strong chest.

Then, Rarity’s smile vanished as she looked to Appleboom.

Applebloom… Rarity could only fathom.

Those sparkly, amber eyes, soaked by unrestrained tears. Applebloom did nothing, said nothing. As silent as her big sister. Rarity’s hoof clutched tighter over her chest, trying in vain to sooth her quibbling heart. Her ears flicked again, breath lodged in her throat when Applejack finally spoke. It was strange. She sounded so strong. So healthy.

“I want y’all to remember somethin’.” Scootaloo quieted her cries, lifting her head from Applejack’s chest, joining her fellow Crusaders’ gaze. “Family comes first.”

The little ones nodded. And Applejack repeated herself, every word as solid as diamond. They nodded again, mesmerized by a meaning they may have been too young to understand.

“Say it with me…” Applejack said, her voice now gentle.

And they did. Breaths matched. Tones matched. Chanting those three words like a mantra. They said it again and again, and Rarity found herself mouthing the words with them. Applejack lifted her little sister’s chin with one hoof, and dried her tears with the other.

“I… I can’t do this witho-“

“Hush, Applebloom,” Applejack said with a stern kindness, unparalleled. “You can. You just don’t know it yet.” She locked eyes with the other Crusaders. “That goes for the rest o’ ya.”

Rarity hadn’t the foggiest clue when her tears started to fall. She could hardly recall how long she’d leaned against that tree. But she was reminded of how unfair it all was. How cruel it all was. A leader. A mentor. A companion. Taken before her time. Before their time. Finally, after spending every hour since the early morning running from it, it all sank in like a knife through her chest.

And Rarity knew—despite every wish, every tear, and every prayer for more time—nothing would change.

A squeaky sob escaped Rarity’s lips. She turned on her heels and darted away. Desperate to escape. Completely forgetting why she was there to begin with.

**********

Rarity was unfathomably pathetic.

She could finally come out and say it. She was a pitiful, undeserving wreck of a mare. The state of her visage. The condition of her home. It all proved how low she truly was. It proved Rainbow Dash right in the worst possible way. She deserved to be alone, sprawled on her floor, wracked with inconsolable tears. She deserved to ache for what she’d never have again, squeezing a destroyed Stetson to her chest. Nuzzling it. Kissing it.

Rainbow Dash was right. Rarity didn’t deserve Applejack. Not in the least. Nopony who abandoned others during their final hours deserved a mare so wonderful. Rarity didn’t deserve Applejack, or her beloved hat. She knew that. But perhaps… perhaps that’s why she refused to let it go. Perhaps that why she hadn’t thrown it out, or took a match to it.

Or, perhaps, Rarity was just outright pathetic.

Her thoughts were bludgeoned away with knocks at her door. She only cried louder, knowing—all too well—who it was. Rarity didn’t care if her cries were heard from behind thin walls. Rarity didn’t care that her new visitor would behold the disarray that ravaged her home. She didn’t even care that her front door was unlocked, or that the visitor invited herself in.

Through her heaving, cackling sobs, Rarity could hear those hoof-steps. Soft and calculated. Careful and slow. Then a scent wafted to her nose, earthy. Like fresh morning dew from fields of crops. Like sweet nectar from the ripest fruit. Rarity’s sobs quieted, finding little else to do but look up, and frown into sad green eyes.

There was a monsoon of things Rarity wanted to say. How much she hated her for being sick. How much she loved her for barging into her Boutique. How sorry she was for avoiding her. But it all fell dead on her tongue, dead behind her quibbling throat. Her frown deepened as Applejack stepped closer, and Rarity shot to her own hooves, becoming defensive for reasons she couldn’t begin to comprehend.

Applejack proceeded, her pace quick, yet agonizingly slow. Rarity panicked. Without a rational thought to call her own, Rarity bit upon the closest inanimate object, and threw it. Applejack’s hooves stilled onto the floor. But her face remained unchanged. Even as her bent and cratered Stetson fell from her face, Applejack smiled on, eyes deep and sad.
She stepped even closer. And Rarity coiled back, frowning even more, tears soaking her cheeks.

Applejack didn’t stop… not until her lips pressed against Rarity’s. Even then, she moved in closer, deepening the abrupt union without fear, without shame. Then, as quickly as it began, Applejack broke the kiss, pulling only centimeters from a still-frowning Rarity. There, they stood for moments that stretched on for a long, long time. Too long.

Rarity’s lips trembled, and her pupils magnified behind her damnable tears. She felt it. Like a spider crawling on her flesh, Rarity felt her foreleg itch again. And in a mere instant, it was gone. A small part of her truly didn’t know how it happened; denied it, at the very most. But the rest of her? The rest of her that clearly saw Applejack’s head turned aside? That clearly saw her own foreleg stretched out? That saw the red throbbing at an orange cheek?

The proof was in the putting.

Rarity glared on, growing more frightened at Applejack’s calm veneer. Rarity lowered her hoof, trying with every cell in her body to kill the sob that choked her. But as Applejack squared herself again, as she peered into Rarity’s very soul, as green eyes assured her that it was okay—that it’d always be okay—Rarity finally shattered.

She took Applejack’s face into her hooves and hungrily devoured those waiting lips.

With a harsh, throaty grunt, Rarity’s back slammed against the wall behind her. Applejack lunged forward, shoving her tongue down Rarity’s throat. They didn’t stop. Not for a long while. Back and forth, launching one another to and fro. Against the floor. Through the tables. Over the kitchen counter. Both fighting and submitting to the one another. Knocking over what was left standing during Rarity’s first blowout.

The steam settled. The haze cleared. And as Rarity regained her thoughts, she found herself on her kitchen floor, surrounded by several broken dishes and the like, hind legs sprawled beneath a burning hot farm mare. Both gulping for air. Both daring each other to make the next move.

“Is that it?” Rarity huffed, her challenging gaze ever strong. “Is that all you have?”

The response was more than desired. And as Applejack’s teeth clamped on her throat, Rarity’s screams could easily attest. She screamed again and again as those teeth hungrily nipped at her flesh, red marks trailing down her chest. Then down her belly. And lower still.

At some point, Rarity knew she was killing Applejack. In the same breath, she knew how hard it’d be to look into a mirror after that evening. Listening to Applejack’s haggard breaths? Watching her sluggish movements? Hearing her thumping heart so clearly, so profoundly? Rarity would indulged her greatest desire, her greatest mistake.

Rarity’s horn burst into light, shutting every window, curtain, and door. And as her screams serenaded the evening sky, Rarity, for one night only—for one last time—welcomed sin with open hooves.

Author's Note

Yeah... That's right. S**t just went down like that. I'll be perfectly honest with y'all, however. I've been working on this damn thing for a week straight, and something is missing. Haven't the foggiest clue what the f**k it is, but I decided to let it go. Whatever it was, it might have just been a bunch of fluff, and I'm trying to avoid that. Thoughts? Opinions?

-Craine...

OH YEAH! And Critique! Can't forget about the critique!