The late afternoon light filtered through the thin curtains covering the windows of Carousel Boutique, as Rarity walked slowly across her kitchen. She always moved a bit slower these days, though she preferred to think of herself as simply more graceful.
Rarity's horn glowed as she lifted the teapot, allowing herself a small smile at her undiminished magical abilities. Filling it and setting it to boil, she began preparing the teacup with all the practiced routine that her age- her maturity, a proper lady does not simply age- had granted her. There was a process to be followed, born of years of repetition. It never ceased to soothe her nerves after a day of work, and this time was no different.
She removed the pot from the stove at the barest hint of whistling, and waited the customary few moments before pouring the water over the tea infuser, careful not to spill and also not to agitate the leaves too much. Rarity set the pot back to the stove, away from the heat, and simply watched the steam curl up from the edges of the teacup.
The boutique was quiet, as it often was this time of day. Her friends were likely in their own homes, with their families and loved ones. The slightest of frowns flashed across Rarity's features with this thought. Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie... even Twilight, all of them had found love in some form or another. Some of them had children, and even grandchildren.
Rarity removed the infuser and sipped her tea, wincing at the temperature before setting it down to allow it to cool a moment longer.
She could remember the first time a stallion had shown interest in her. Honestly he was more of a colt, long ago, in school. An earth pony, one of the more popular colts in her class. Her cutie mark had been lovely, and had garnered such attention. Within days of its appearance she'd had a half dozen admirers.
She scoffed into the silent boutique. What a silly foal she had been; she had no idea what to do with attention like that anyway. But she had learned, as time went on. Not that she would manipulate stallions directly, of course, but if others wanted to help her and do things for her, how could she disagree? It wasn't as though she had no interest in them.
Another sip of the tea followed, the hot drink filling her with a calm warmth. One simply couldn't overestimate the power of a well made cup of tea.
After a somewhat awkward adolescence, she had blossomed into young adulthood with a beauty that- to hear her suitors tell it- was unmatched across Equestria. It was then that she'd met her friends, her lifelong companions. Rarity knew, academically, that those days had been stressful and difficult, setting up her boutique and spreading word of her skill, vying for contacts in the business world, and saving Equestria from doom as an element of harmony time and again.
She wouldn't trade a minute of those years for anything in the world.
An endless parade of admirers had passed through her hooves during those days. Many stallions, and many mares as well. Some offered simple favors for her attentions, some relied purely on their clout or appearance. Rarity doled out precious smiles and giggles as rare treasures, a caress or flutter of her eyelashes to those that managed to please her. It was power, to hold their affections in her hooves as she had, and as unladylike as it was, she had enjoyed it to no end.
Some of the stallions had even made it to her bedroom, but only on her terms and only sparingly. After all, she had other concerns. Her business, first and foremost, as well as her work with the elements. Besides, with so many admirers she could choose to be picky, couldn't she? She was astounding, beautiful, generous, and everypony wanted her. Only the very best of stallions commanded even a glance from her, and she would only settle for the perfect one for an actual relationship.
Rarity brought the glass to her lips again, sighing slightly as her rumination had allowed the tea to cool just below the ideal. Still, the flavor was good, and taking a moment to reminisce never hurt anyone.
The years passed through Rarity's mind as she thought back over her career. She was nothing if not savvy about networking and social connections. She took her business, her passion, from local Ponyville plays and productions, to providing clothing for two royal weddings in Canterlot, as well as many smaller events and one once-in-a-lifetime coronation of a new princess.
This took time, of course, but not so much as to diminish her beauty. She'd barely noticed the slight laugh lines around her lips, or so she'd told the few individuals so unbelievably crass as to point them out. The crow's feet that had resulted from years of squinting at needlework only made her look more distinguished. The slight softening of her body only added to her appeal, in a certain kind of way.
At any rate, the suitors did not stop coming. She bandied and played with them as she always had, though as her friends found stallions, or in one case each other, Rarity's thoughts did turn toward marriage now and again. More so as her friends' sisters managed to do the same. Rarity smiled as she thought of Sweetie Belle on her wedding day, all smiles and her beautiful, beautiful singing. The stallion she'd ended up with, the name escaped her at the moment, was not nearly good enough for her one and only sister. Sweetie Belle had plainly only been settling for someone sub-par, something Rarity would never allow herself to do.
Though she had considered it, as the years waned on. While her boutique never wanted for bits, having an influential stallion as a husband would certainly have opened many doors for her, with or without love. A late night discussion with Fluer de Lis, over too much cider, had dispelled that idea. As happy as Fleur was while living in the lap of luxury, there was simply something undignified about trading one's affections for influence in that manner.
Rarity carefully set the teacup back down, still half full of now lukewarm tea. The cup, a gift from Princess Celestia herself, nearly chimed on contact with the table.
The tea set had been a gift for the anniversary marking fifty years as an element bearer, or whatever the more poetic and bombastic reporters had begun calling them. That particular duty had passed on to others, now, and Rarity was simply Rarity again. Even before then, however, she had noticed something strange.
While she was still beautiful, of course she was, the stallions and mares didn't seem to show as much attention as they had in her youth. By her later years she was an extremely influential mare, known all across Equestria for her fashions and her philanthropy, but influence only brought sycophants and liars. She had still had the occasional admirer, but she could never be certain if he or she was there out of affection for Rarity, or affection for Rarity's money and influence.
Eventually, even that had stopped.
Rarity sighed heavily, looking through the curtains into the gathering twilight outside her window. She suddenly felt very tired, and very... mature. She had always taken care of herself; she didn't look even half her age. But perhaps even half her age was too old.
The tea, stone cold and forgotten now, remained on the table in front of her.
She was still idly staring through the curtains when the click of claws on the tile floor caught her attention. Rarity had the presence of mind to bring a smile to her lips before she turned to her assistant.
Taller now, and less clumsy than he had been when introduced to Ponyville, the purple and green dragon looked to be entering young adulthood himself. He still walked on two legs, keeping his wings carefully folded behind him while inside the boutique. Spike wore a smile that was both cautious and warm, speaking in quiet tone as though he was afraid to break the stillness of the boutique. "... Rarity? It's getting late."
"Of course, Spike. Be a dear and accompany me?" Rarity pushed herself up to standing, smiling politely as Spike moved a claw to hold her steady. They walked slowly together through the shuttered showroom. Spike was in the prime of his life, a luminescent paragon of dragonkind, at least in Rarity's eyes, but he never complained or even so much as commented on her more graceful pacing.
Together, with his claws supporting her perhaps a little more than yesterday, they made their way up the staircase to Rarity's bedroom. He had been her assistant, occasionally 'number one assistant', for twenty years now. Ever since a slight stumble -nothing to note really- during a fashion exposition in Canterlot, Princess Twilight had insisted that Rarity keep a servant at her home. The only friend she so trusted, that had anywhere near the time required, was Spike. He had eagerly agreed, without any hesitation.
Spike pushed open the door to Rarity's bedroom, and held it open for her to pass through. She thanked him with a polite nod and what she hoped was still a beautiful, alluring smile. With the grace and dignity befitting her person, Rarity crossed the well-trodden floor of her bedroom and studio and climbed into her bed. She found herself tired much earlier in the day now, and at the moment wanted nothing more than rest. She flashed another winning smile at Spike as he carefully drew the blankets up around her.
They shared an affectionate, friendly nuzzle before Rarity allowed herself to fall asleep.
Spike closed Rarity's door slowly, even knowing that the tiny click of the latch wouldn't wake her. He avoided the steps he knew squeaked while walking downstairs again, and then back into the small kitchen.
A half-filled cup of tea sat on the table, as it did every night. Spike sighed, taking the cup in claw and pouring the cold tea into the sink, washing the delicate set with the utmost care. The tea was probably the only food Rarity had taken that day, though the mare would never admit it if asked.
He knew what he had been seeing over the years, how each day she was a little slower and a little more withdrawn. She rarely spoke to anyone now, outside of her five best friends. Her coat, once white and pristine, had become slightly mottled and even a bit unkempt. Her lustrous purple mane was now streaked with gray, though she kept it in perfect form. Rarity had wrinkles around her eyes, and her lips. She was old, and only aging further.
She was still absolutely beautiful.
Spike set the emptied cup back with the rest of the set, before turning to take his customary place sleeping in the downstairs showroom of the boutique. He knew that his feelings were not reciprocated, and never had been. He knew that by the doctors' best estimates, his remaining time with the mare he so adored could be measured in months. He knew that Rarity was lonely, that she felt no one cared about her.
Spike smiled as he closed his eyes and settled to the floor to sleep. He would make sure that for all her flaws, Rarity would never be alone again. She may never love him the way he loved her, but at least he could be there with her, until the very end.
