Rainbow Dash looked in the mirror, and she didn’t recognize the mare who looked back. Deep lines traced along that mare’s face and chin and neck. She looked back out at herself from a face that had once been bright, flushed, and full of life, but that was now wrinkled and spotted. The skin under that mare’s eyes sagged and creased when she blinked, and her eyes, that had once been vivid, that had blazed with an inner intensity, stared dully back at Rainbow Dash, tired and old. Their flame had long since been choked out. Rainbow Dash had trouble reading without her glasses nowadays, and nothing looked as clear as it once had, even the mare in the mirror.
She stood in the upstairs bathroom of the same home that Granny Smith had lived in years before, peering with a kind of lurid fascination at the mare in the mirror. That mare’s coat, that had once been sleek and had shone in the sunlight, had become rough, splotched, and would never again shine as it once had. Her muscles, that had once been strong, taut, lithe, now hung loosely over her bones, flabby and weak. She, who had once journeyed to the summit of a mountain to a dragon’s lair and kicked that dragon in the nose, could barely kick open a door on her way to the kitchen anymore. Her figure, that had once turned the heads of mares and stallions alike, had spoiled as she became more tired and less active. Her stomach bulged slightly and each of her limbs had an extra layer of padding that would have embarrassed her as a filly. Her mane, whose colors had once flared so vividly, that had been so distinctive, that she had been so proud of, had faded and grayed. Its colors were gone, and she felt as if she were being mocked every time somepony called her Rainbow.
Her wings—she unfolded them, slowly, and watched them rise on either side of the mare in the mirror—her wings were the worst of all. They had been beautiful once, resplendent, perfect. When Rainbow Dash had noticed her first gray hair, her first wrinkle, so many years before, she had begun to meticulously, obsessively preen her wings. From morning till night, she had spent more time preening than she had spent flying. It was a futile attempt to postpone the inevitable, to care for them as she had never cared for them in her youth. She tried to save them, but too late. No amount of preening could stave off the merciless march of time, and her wings had been the first to truly succomb to age. Twilight had explained to her that their rapid deterioration had been a result of the tremendous stress she had subjected them to over her lifetime, and it wouldn’t make any difference how well she took care of them now. Apparently it happened to most former Wonderbolts. She had simply worn them out.
Some of her primary feathers began to stop regrowing after molting, and their absences showed as great gaps in her wingspan. The downy feathers underneath had become matted and tangled; they would never feel as soft to the touch as they had in her youth. No matter how long she preened, her feathers would no longer all stay in alignment. Always, some would stick out at odd angles from the rest. Flared out at her sides, her wings looked more like raggedy, torn sheets held up with sticks than a pegasus’s wings. Unable to support her weight as they had before, they couldn’t carry her for more than short distances or short periods of time. She could barely manage a flight from one end of the farm to the other. She couldn’t call herself Rainbow or Dash anymore.
She sighed and lowered her wings. She kept them folded at her sides most of the time now, always when in public. The only other pony she ever allowed to see them was Applejack, and Rainbow Dash took great pains to make sure even she never discovered the true extent of their degradation. Dash only ever fully unfolded them after she had made certain she was alone, and then only to make a few short laps around the barn.
She had once been the fastest pegasus in Equestria, and now she was old. And everyone else knew it. The foals called her Granny, the little bastards. But she knew that name fit her better than her own.
"Rainbow Dash?" Applejack called from downstairs.
Dash didn’t answer. She heard the sounds of the reunion outside, the one she should have been attending. She didn’t want her family and friends to see her like this. She didn’t want to be remembered like this. She wanted them to remember her as she had been. She wanted them to see her as the bright, happy, strong, agile pegasus who had stood down changelings, manticores, tyrants, and dragons without even so much as flinching.
Not like this. Not this washed out, lost-looking, pitiful old mare she saw in the mirror. That wasn’t her.
She heard the clomping of what must have been Applejack slowly climbing the stairs of their home. Dash contemplated running back into their bedroom, throwing the door closed, and locking it behind her. She could close the blinds. She could fall into the bed and pull the covers up over her head. She could shut out the whole world, if she wanted. No one would ever have to see her like this again, and she would never have to hear another bratty little foal call her Granny.
“Rainbow?”
That name again. The one that wasn’t hers.
Dash knew Applejack had reached the top of the stairs. She must have been in the hall, looking into the open bathroom door at the lonely old mare standing within.
Rainbow Dash didn’t feel like Rainbow anymore. She felt old, used up, and the mare in the mirror looked it, too. She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see herself like this anymore. She wanted to go back and be the Rainbow Dash she had been before, or to simply lie in bed and forget about the reunion outside.
Suddenly, a hoof reached beneath her chin and turned her head. She opened her eyes just as Applejack’s lips met her own. She squeaked in surprise, but Applejack wouldn’t let her pull away, instead, she pressed forward and deepened the kiss. As pleasant warmth spread through Dash’s chest, she lost herself in Applejack.
To Dash’s surprise, the kiss, Applejack’s lips—they didn’t feel old like everything else. Applejack didn’t feel old. It still felt the same as the very first time she and Applejack had kissed.
It had been so long ago, the same day she had become a Wonderbolt. After years of striving, practicing, and working, she had finally been welcomed into the ranks of the Wonderbolts by way of a simple letter. Later that same night, after the celebration with her friends, high on success and drunk on triumph, she took Applejack into the air and introduced her to the sky. She carried her into the cool breeze and the stars. In the glowing moonlight, she rested Applejack on a cloud and awkwardly, clumsily, kissed her for the first time. Applejack, finally, after so many tries, accepted her advances. Their love sparked then, burned as an open flame that shone in the night sky like a newborn star. They burned together on that cloud, chased away the night’s cold, and lost themselves in each other.
This kiss felt just the same. It felt young. Dash began to feel like herself again, like Rainbow Dash. With Applejack, her coat felt fresh again, unblemished. Her vision cleared, her muscles strengthened, her figure thinned. She was who she used to be.
She felt like the same filly who had moved to Ponyville so many years before, away from her parents and the mare they wanted her to become. On her first day in town, she had met a farm pony mare, Applejack, and she was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Rainbow Dash had always wanted the best. She wanted to be the best and she wanted the best for herself. She had been so full of herself then that it had seemed only natural to her that she would get Applejack, too. Rainbow Dash had openly and excitedly pursued her, only to be turned down again and again. Applejack, it had seemed, didn’t have any interest in being hers. Eventually, Rainbow had given up, and she developed an amiable, if cool, friendship with Applejack instead.
Applejack moved from Dash’s lips down to her neck, and Rainbow Dash let out a strained gasp of pleasure. With Applejack, she felt like herself again. She felt like the same filly who had journeyed into the Everfree Forest with five friends in search of the sun, and then there accepted her role as the Element of Loyalty. From that night on, her friendship with Applejack had changed, become warmer. They spent more and more time together, learned together, played together, fought together, and grew together. They, along with their other friends, sealed Discord away together, battled against the changeling army together, faced and overcame innumerable other obstacles together, and ultimately watched their friend ascend to Princesshood, together.
Applejack’s lips glided back up Dash’s neck and found her lips again. She gripped Dash in a heady, intimate embrace. Dash felt Applejack’s hooves reach out along her sides and stroke her wings, gently kneading them, caressing up and down their length. Rainbow Dash didn’t pull away.
With Applejack, her wings became beautiful again, strong, soft. They were the same wings of the mare who had been a Wonderbolt. She had streaked through the skies, through loops and twirls and dives, in tight formation with her teammates. She had heard the cheers of her friends among the cheers of a thousand other ponies in the crowds below.
Rainbow Dash slowly unfolded her wings and wrapped them around Applejack. She let Applejack feel them, see her as she was, and still, Applejack didn’t back away. With her wings, Rainbow Dash pulled Applejack closer to her, never once breaking the kiss. She was young again, strong again. Applejack showed her, told her without words, that it hadn’t all changed. She was still Rainbow Dash.
She was the same mare who had later been named the new captain of the Wonderbolts, the youngest in their long history. She still streaked through the skies in tight formation with her teammates, but she flew at the front of the formation from then on. Immediately after leading her team through her first performance as their captain, as the crowds applauded, she flew into the stands, straight for Applejack. There, among the cheering crowd, she proposed to her marefriend. Then, later, she married her in a quiet ceremony in Sweet Apple Acres in front of their friends.
That life had been hard on her, traveling between the Wonderbolts and family, which, in the course of time, became more than just Applejack. She went months at a time without seeing one or the other, and she always missed both. She found ways to make time for both, but she still made mistakes. Stupid, childish mistakes. She had to apologize to Applejack more times than she could count. Still, their love had burned as a pyre then, whose flames licked the sky, burned so fiercely and so high that everyone could see for miles around.
She was the same mare who had grown older and wearier with each circuit of performances. She didn’t notice then, but the fire behind her eyes dulled with each passing year. Finally, when her long tenure as captain had come to an end, she happily retired and returned home to Applejack. She never left again.
Applejack pulled back, breaking the kiss but still holding her close. Rainbow Dash screwed her eyes shut. She clutched the feeling the kiss had brought her close to her chest so she wouldn’t lose it. Inside, with Applejack, she still felt like Rainbow Dash.
She opened her eyes, and looked into the mirror.
An old mare looked back, tired and gray. She sighed. It didn’t matter how she felt inside. Outside, she was still old, and that was what everyone else would see.
Applejack nuzzled her neck. “You know you’re still the most beautiful mare I’ve ever seen, right?”
Rainbow Dash shook her head. “But… look at me. Look at my wings…” She raised her wings for Applejack so she could see clearly what they had become.
Applejack grimaced, reaching out and touching one of them. She held the wing in her hoof delicately, as if she worried it would shatter into dust at the lightest touch. “Why didn’t ya tell me they’d gotten this bad?”
“Because it doesn’t matter.” Rainbow sniffled. “I talked to Twilight. She said there’s nothing I can do.”
Applejack dropped her wing and wrapped her forelegs around Dash’s neck. “I’m sorry.”
Rainbow Dash leaned into the embrace. She simply enjoyed the feeling of being warmed and comforted by another pony for a time. She cherished feeling Applejack’s still-strong forelegs hold her. She knew that at least one pony still saw her as Rainbow Dash.
“Is that why you don’t want to come out?” Applejack asked, whispering.
Dash tilted her head in the barest of nods.
“Is that all?” Applejack chuckled, her laugh creaking a little. She pulled back. “Sugarcube, you know no one cares about that. No one out there cares how you look. They just want to see you—”
Dash pushed her away. “If this is some speech about how all that matters is what’s on the inside and not what’s on the outside, save it. I’ve heard it before and we both know it isn’t true anyway.”
Applejack frowned. “Hey, just because you’re in a sour mood, doesn’t mean you should go ignorin’ good advice.”
“I said save it, Applejack. No one wants to see me like this, and you know it. I don’t even want to see me like this.” Dash halfheartedly kicked at the floor. “I look terrible. I wish I was back how I was before.”
“Hush now. Don’t talk like that.”
Dash shook her head. “I hate this. I hate who I’ve become—”
“I said hush!” Applejack shouted. Her mouth formed a thin, wrinkled line and she gave Rainbow Dash a look that dared her to see what would happen if she didn’t comply. “Now, you’re gonna be quiet and listen to what I have to say, and you’re not gonna say one more thing like that ‘til I’m finished.”
No matter how old they both might have been and how laughable the idea of either of them physically hurting each other was, Applejack still scared Dash when she got angry. She nodded dumbly.
“Good. I swear, you’re thicker than a barn door sometimes.” Applejack’s face softened a little. “Do you really think me or anyone out there cares at all about how you look? Do you really think that matters at all? When I turned you down all those times way back when ya couldn’t keep your hooves off me, do you think it had anything to do with how ya looked? ‘Cause I can tell you this, you didn’t look any different that night you got that letter from the Wonderbolts than ya did back then. So, do you know why I turned you down?” Applejack glowered at her. “Well?”
“Um…” Rainbow Dash didn’t have the faintest clue. She had never fully understood why Applejack had rejected her.
“I’ll tell ya why!” Applejack declared, pressing on before Dash had a chance to think of an answer. “You were good lookin’, there was no denyin’ it. But I didn’t care about that. I turned ya down because I didn’t like you. Sure, I liked how ya looked well enough, but I didn’t like who you were on the inside.” Applejack punctuated her statement with a jab to Dash’s chest. “You understand?”
“Um…”
“I didn’t like you, Rainbow Dash,” Applejack repeated. “You were selfish. You were full of yourself. Your head was so big I couldn’t even figure out how ya were able to keep in the air with that big weight stuck on your shoulders. You only cared about yourself and where you were goin’ and what you wanted. You didn’t care about anypony else. I didn’t like you.”
“Gee, thanks,” Dash muttered.
Applejack shushed her again, but then her face softened. “Ya know, most ponies never change. Most ponies would have stayed that way their whole lives. They would have stayed selfish and big-headed. But you never stopped changing. Like no pony I’ve ever met, you always wanted to be better. You always tried to be better. Every year I knew you I liked ya more, because after every year you were a new pony.” Applejack reached out and touched Dash’s cheek. “That night you got your letter from the Wonderbolts, I saw how far you’d come. I still didn’t care anymore how ya looked, but I loved the pony you were on the inside. And even after that, you didn’t stop growing.”
Applejack’s face hardened again. “So, don’t you tell me that you hate the mare you’ve become, because I love the mare you’ve become, and so does everypony out there. Don’t tell me that you want to go back to bein’ the pony you were before, because I wouldn’t trade the Rainbow Dash you are now for the Rainbow Dash you were then for all the years I have left, and neither would anypony else.
“I love the mare you’ve become.” Applejack smiled and gently nuzzled her cheek. “The mare you’ve become is beautiful, inside and out. The mare you’ve become is caring, and thoughtful, and kind, and smart. You are beautiful, more beautiful than you’ve ever been before. Everypony sees that. When they look at you, when I look at you, we don’t even think about the mare you were before, we only see ya how you are now. That’s the mare they love, not the mare you were before. And I can’t wait to see who you become next, because I know you’ll never stop growin’.
“Sugarcube”—Applejack leaned forward and kissed her on the tip of her muzzle—“can’t you see how wonderful the pony you’ve grown into is? Please don’t take that pony for granted. Please don’t sell that pony short by wishing she was somepony else. I’m tellin’ you, I love who you’ve become, and so does each and every single pony outside right now.”
Rainbow Dash rested her forehead against Applejack’s. Wet tears slipped down her cheeks, and Applejack held her. “Thank you,” she finally managed to whisper.
“Anytime, sugarcube.” Applejack smiled and wiped her tears away. “You get so caught up thinkin’ ‘bout who you used to be, you forget how wonderful you are now.”
Rainbow Dash sniffled. “I’m sorry.”
Applejack laughed. “Nah, s‘nothin’ you need to say sorry for.”
“Thanks,” Dash said, wiping her eyes. “I, um, think you’re really beautiful on the inside and I love who you’ve become too.”
Applejack kissed her, lightly, warmly. She pulled back, and Dash saw that her face was just as wrinkled as her own. “Now c’mon. Everypony’s still waitin’ for ya outside.”
Rainbow Dash glanced back at the mirror. She saw herself, Rainbow Dash, look back at her. She was old, but she was so much more than that. Her eyes might have been a little blurry, but behind those eyes she saw all the lessons she had learned, all the friends she had made, all she had accomplished, all the good she had done.
Her muscles might have been weaker, but they were still the same muscles that had carried her across Equestria on more adventures than she could count, up mountains, deep into forests, and across oceans. Those were the same legs with which she had kicked a dragon in the nose, thrashed changelings, and done battle with ancient despots. Those were the same legs with which she had run alongside Applejack each and every year for the Running of the Leaves.
Her figure might not have looked as good as it once had, and her mane might not have shone with as many colors as it once did, but it was still the same figure of who she was certain was one of the greatest looking mares to have ever flown in the skies of Equestria. Her colors hadn’t faded and disappeared, she realized. She had simply given them to foals and grandfoals. She still had every color of the rainbow, but they had spread out some over the years, passed over to other generations.
Her wings—she flared them so they rose high over the mare in the mirror’s back—her wings were the best of all. They might have been a little worse for wear now, but those were the wings of a Wonderbolt. No, not just a Wonderbolt, she reminded herself. The captain of the Wonderbolts. Those were the wings that had led the greatest, most famous flight team in the world through their performances. Those were the only wings in the history of Equestria that had ever performed a Sonic Rainboom. Those were the wings of the fastest pegasus in Equestria. Those were the wings of Rainbow Dash.
Applejack jabbed her in the chest, disrupting her thoughts. “Y’know, Appleseed is out there sayin’ the reason you won’t come out is because you’re afraid he’s finally gonna beat you at horseshoes this year.”
Rainbow Dash’s eyes went wide. “What?! He couldn’t beat me at horseshoes even if I was tied down to a board and blindfolded. He’ll never beat me!”
“What are you tellin’ me for?” Applejack smirked. “Go tell him that.”
“I will!” Rainbow Dash declared, stomping to the stairs.
Applejack laughed and followed after her. They took the stairs together, slowly, one step at a time.
