All in the Vows

by Arwhale

Rarity was certainly not a stranger to long trips. But she had to admit that after having two of them back to back over the course of only three weeks, they were starting to take a toll on her.

As far as train rides went, the journey from Baltimare to Canterlot was a pleasant one. But for Rarity, sleep deprived as she was, every little turn, bump, or jolt the car made seemed to be amplified by a constant buzzing sensation in the back of her skull. Groaning lightly, she pressed a hoof to her aching forehead and wiped off a thin coating of sweat and grime; she had gotten back to the hotel very late the night before and had been too tired to take a shower.

For a short period, the entire inside of the train car went dark. Right away, Rarity knew she was close; the train was passing through one of the many tunnels carved into the grand mountain where Canterlot resided. In her traveling experience, that meant the station was only minutes away...

The train passed through two more tunnels before she heard the steam whistle signal her arrival. Rarity picked up her saddlebag from the empty seat beside her and donned her pink traveling hat as the steady squealing of the train's brakes filled her ears. The forward lurching motion of the train stopping made her aching head swim, and she suppressed another groan.

"Calling all passengers for Canterlot Station!" A voice blared over the intercom. Rarity waited until the train had come to a complete halt and then stood in front of the sliding door until it opened. Too exhausted to care about grace, she hopped down onto the platform with bulging saddlebag in tow and landed with a soft thud. She took a deep breath and took a moment to thank the fates that she had finally made it back in one piece.

"Rarity, my dear!"

It was a voice that she had become well-acquainted with since their wedding only two years prior. At the sound of his greeting, Rarity lifted her head. The sight of her husband standing only a few short meters away put a smile on her face.

"Hello, Fancy," she said. Her eyes closed with contentment as he planted a quick smooch on her lips and wrapped a foreleg around her withers in a warm hug. She returned the gesture with a happy sigh. "I'm back at last, thank Celestia. How have you been?"

Fancy Pants shrugged. "Oh, I've been quite alright. Encountered some minor issues with estate affairs, but nothing significant. I say," he said, feeling the spot on her back between her shoulderblades, "You do feel rather tense..."

Rarity gave a low chuckle. "Yes, I'm sure... it's been stressful, these past few weeks. And I imagine I must look almost as bad as I feel right now..."

Fancy Pants scoffed. "Look bad? Never." He pulled away and stepped off to the side, taking Rarity's saddlebag from her back and setting it on his own. "Let's get you home. So you are feeling ill?"

Rarity nodded. "A little under the weather, yes..." She placed a hoof onto her aching skull. "I've had this throbbing headache for the past two days that refuses to go away..."

Fancy Pants adjusted the saddlebag and walked side by side with her off of the platform. "Hmm. Oh dear..."

"And it's even worse, because I have to catch another train tomorrow, bright and early at 8 o'clock." She groaned. "Hopefully, this whole thing will go away with a good night's sleep..."

At the mentioning of catching another train the following morning, Fancy Pants' brow furrowed downward. He pursed his lips. "Oh... yes, quite... where did you say that trip was to, exactly?"

Rarity had to think for a moment before she could answer, and then said, "I'm going to Vanhoover. There's going to be a competition there for upcoming winter designs, and I figured it would be a good way to get myself noticed while also trying my hoof at something I'm not as experienced with."

As she explained, Fancy Pants listened intently. A short period of silence ensued before he made any kind of reply.

"Hmm. Vanhoover is an awfully long way..." he coughed to clear his throat. Rarity nodded wearily.

"Yes, I know. Sixteen hours by train..." she said with a sigh. "It's going to be another long week, that is for sure..."

Fancy Pants nodded in agreement. "I'm sure it will be..." He glanced up at the sky, which was turning a light shade of pink as the sun flirted with the horizon. It was only early autumn, but as the sun began to dip below the tall buildings of the city, a slight breeze carried with it an uncomfortable chill, causing Rarity to shiver. He picked up the pace. "I'll be sure to make us some tea and something to eat when we arrive back. Are you feeling hungry?"

Rarity shrugged. "I... well, I don't have much of an appetite, to be honest. But the tea sounds heavenly." She smiled with anticipation. "I haven't been able to settle down and have a cup of chamomile in far too long."

Fancy Pants nuzzled his wife on the cheek. "Oh, I am well aware of that." He pointed to a closed carriage directly in front of them, manned by two hefty stallions. "Don't worry, we'll be home in no time."

Rarity had been looking down at the ground in an effort to fend away some of the obnoxious pain thumping against the inside of her skull, but when she looked up at where Fancy's hoof indicated, her sagging face immediately seemed to lift. Even though she'd been married and living in Canterlot for two full years, she still had not gotten used to the closed carriages, the servants, and the gateway arches to fountain courtyards. But seeing her easy ride back home, she was not about to complain. Fancy Pants opened the door and stepped aside.

"After you." He offered a hoof to help her in. She took hold of it and climbed in, and he followed suit. As soon as the door had shut, the carriage started forward, and the two of them headed for home.

...

To tell the truth, Fancy Pants did not know how to "make" much of anything. In fact, he hardly knew how to get the water boiling, let alone make tea. Fortunately for him, he had servants for that, and pretty soon the sweet and fruity aroma of chamomile filled the posh, dimly-lit lounge where he and his wife sat.

Rarity held her head over the teacup for several moments, breathing in the sweet-scented steam and vapor wafting upward before picking it up with her horn. She took a careful sip; the drink was still hot, but not enough to burn her tongue. She exhaled deeply.

"This is lovely, thank you," she said, taking another sip. "It's been far too long...I think my headache is starting to go away, finally."

The news was welcome for the both of them. Fancy had poured himself a cup of tea as well, which he sipped at while idly adjusting the bowtie on his suit. He nodded his head in a knowing manner.

"I'm glad to hear. I was hoping it would have that effect. Chamomile is known to have many soothing properties, and this is the finest tea of it I could find." He set the teacup back onto the saucer. "I hope it will help to ease some of the stress that you might still be feeling."

To Rarity, it was obvious that it was working. She simpered at him.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she said, sighing out the words. She rubbed her temples in small circles as the gnawing ache began to subside. "You're always the gentlecolt..."

The amount of steam coming from their cups lessened as the tea's temperature dropped. No longer needing to be wary of burning her mouth, Rarity took bigger sips until the cup was empty and set it down onto the saucer with a soft clink. She took a look at his cup on the other side of the table, and to her surprise, saw that he was barely half finished. He gestured to the teapot between them.

"Do you want a refill? Or something to eat, perhaps?"

She shook her head. "No, no. I'm alright, thank you... but what I do really need is a shower," she said. The unicorn mare giggled at her own expense. "I feel like I haven't bathed in a year..."

Fancy smirked. His eyes seemed to pan over her body, and he gave her a shrug of his shoulders. "Be my guest. But... all things considered; I must say you do not look as worse for wear as you might believe..."

Considering that her body felt like it had been dipped in vegetable oil, her husband's compliment seemed almost comical. Rarity blew a raspberry.

"Oh, pfft." She waved his compliments off like a buzzing fly. "Stop it. I'm an absolute mess."

Her response was predictable, but it did not fail to make Fancy laugh inwardly. By now, he knew better than to argue with her over these kinds of matters, so he decided to let her have the last word, mumbling a neutral, "If you say so, my dear," and getting up from his seat. He downed the contents of his cup and set it on the table. "I'll ask Amble to take care of these for us. Will you be going to bed soon after?"

The question was practically rhetorical. Rarity turned her head around, raising an eyebrow and giving him a playful smirk. "What do you think? I could probably fall asleep on the floor right here and now if I wanted to..."

"If you would prefer, I could have Amble carry you up herself," he suggested. To somepony less knowledgeable, he may have sounded completely serious, but after two years she had come to know his sense of humor quite well. Rarity guffawed.

"No, that won't be necessary, thanks," she said, rolling her eyes. She hopped down to her hooves on the carpeted floor, joints making slight, crackling pops as they moved for the first time in a while. "I'm perfectly capable of getting there myself."

"Well, I am so glad to hear that," he said with as neutral a tone as he could manage, trying but failing to suppress a giddy grin. Feigning indignancy, Rarity turned away and tossed her head, hooves transitioning from carpeted to lacquered hardwood floor as she left the room with her nose in the air.

"Pfft. Have Amble ca... oh, why, I'd never!"

The sound of her hoofsteps receded until he couldn't hear them any longer. He peeked around the corner, waiting until she was out of sight. Once he surmised that she was also out of earshot, he called for somepony else with a low shout.

"Amble!"

He only had to call her name once before he could immediately hear her coming, hooves lightly clopping over the hardwood until a slender, blue-maned unicorn with a frilly white bonnet atop her head stepped into the room. She was practically standing on the tips of her hooves, eyes bright and alert.

"Yes, sir?" she answered. Fancy levitated all of the dishes together into one, neat stack and set the still half-filled teapot beside it.

"Could you please take these to the kitchen for me? There is still some tea leftover, so feel free to have as much as you want," he offered. Amble's face lit up briefly, and she curtsied to him before picking the dishes up in a light blue aura.

"Yes, sir. Thank you very much, sir," she said in a rapid fire fashion, hurrying to do what she'd been asked. But before she could leave the room, he stopped her.

"Oh, and Amble?" The mention of her name was enough to halt her in the doorway. She turned around with the dishes still hovering around her head. "Before you go, might I ask you if... if the room is ready?" Despite speaking at a normal volume to begin with, his voice dropped to just above a whisper with the last question. Amble gave him a curt nod.

"Yes, sir. Everything's just the way you wanted." Amble wasted no time replying in the affirmative. She stood stock still, as if at attention. Fancy Pants gave a good natured laugh at the young mare's enthusiasm.

"Excellent. Thank you very much, Amble. You're free to go," he excused her. Amble curtsied once more and at his command, scampered out of the room with the dishes in tow. Fancy Pants shook his head.

"Never change, Amble. Never change."

...

Author's Note

Clop is in the next chapter. Enjoy. :)