There is nothing in Equestria, or in the Great Beyond, or among the Stars that is more beautiful or of greater value than a good friend found somewhere unexpected.

—Princess Platinum, of The Six

5137 ER, Age of Illumination, juvenile autumn, waxing gibbous

Rarity and Twilight happened to be in town on the same day. Both of them brought flowers, Rarity white daisies and Twilight pink roses. When they spotted each other at the entrance, they flashed surprised looks followed by quick smiles and delicate hugs full of warmth, but forgotten familiarity.

It was early autumn, but the autumn of that year had come two dances before its time, and so the world was amber in color like the last glow of the coals of a dying fire. Nature made even death beautiful. The days were cool and wet and refreshing. That day was particularly cloudy and gloomy, as if Nature knew.

“Hey. I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Twilight said when they had pulled away from their hug.

Rarity smiled and motioned around them, “Always a sight for sore eyes, and it’s nice to get away.” She paused, a hesitant tint coming over her features and her voice. “Are you here for…”

“Yes,” Twilight replied quickly. The two walked alongside each other down the cobblestone path, passing a fountain before continuing to speak.

“So, what brings you back to Ponyville?” Twilight asked.

“Oh, you know… it’s…” Rarity trailed off, staring sadly at the ground.

“The anniversary,” Twilight finished, and Rarity sighed out an affirmative.

“It’s been, what, five years?”

“Yeah. Five years.” An awkward silence descended. “How’s Rainbow?”

“Busy. She’s touring with her group. She sends letters every now and then.” Rarity motioned with a hoof towards the dreary sky. “I hope she changes the tour dates for next year, so she can come here. But I think she’s keeping herself away.”

“Is it hard, to be away from her so much?” Twilight marveled.

“Of course. But I have my own work to keep me plenty busy. It just makes her off-seasons that much sweeter.”

“I’m happy for you two,” Twilight chimed, and her eyes were as sincere as they’d been from the day Rarity had met her. “I’m glad you saved her. I know it was hard for her after—”

Rarity stopped mid step, jaw slack and mouth forming an O, eyes wide and pupils dilated in shock and horror.

Twilight stumbled, almost running into the other pony. “Rarity?” She followed her friend’s gaze, and the grip around her roses disappeared. The flowers met the ground with a shuffle of petals against petals.

“It can’t be,” Twilight murmured.

A pony in a tan trench coat stood a hundred hooves from them, facing away. Her mane was dull in color and limp in styling, cut uncaringly to half its former length. A bouquet of yellow daisies peeked over the mare’s shoulder as she held them in her teeth. They were much too happy a color for such a dreary day, and stood out against everything.

As Rarity and Twilight watched, too stunned to do anything, the mare propped the flowers against the tombstone and tucked her legs underneath herself, laying down in the dying grass. She braced her forehead against the weathered stone.

Twilight grabbed onto Rarity, not tearing her eyes away from the scene for a second, as if in fear that if she did, the mare would disappear.

“Rarity, that's…that's…”

“Yes, dear, I know,” Rarity hissed.

“I… I didn’t know if she was still… We need to think about this. Oh Celestia. Oh Celestia.”

“This is not the time to lose your wits, Twilight,” Rarity snapped.

“You two are about as subtle as a locomotive,” the mare chuckled, standing up. She didn’t face them, but turned her head just slightly so that the two could see her cheek and the corner of her eye. “You think I couldn’t hear you from a mile away?”

She turned, then, cool gaze washing over them with disinterest. Her eyes were different. Her stance was different. She had lost weight and muscle, and her cheeks were sharp and bony. Her face was impassive.

Twilight held her breath and planted her hooves firmly into the ground, preparing to stop the mare if she made a break for it.

“Relax,” the mare droned, and, oh, her voice was different, too. “I’m not going anywhere. I trust Rainbow told you about our little meeting?”

Rainbow had. Rarity remembered back three days ago.

It was three in the morning when she was awoken by a sharp pop of color, and the smell of brimstone. Startled, Rarity had sat up in bed, her fur going into piloerection. She removed her mask and stared at a scroll that had popped into existence, and now lay on her white duvet.

Rainbow never sent mail by dragon magic.

Slightly worried, she unfurled the scroll and stared at Rainbow’s chicken scratch mouth writing.

Rarity, I saw her. She’s alive, and she’s doing well. I think she’s going back to Ponyville, I overheard her talking with the bartender about how long the train is from here. She acted like she didn’t know who I was. She just said ‘I don’t know who you’re talking about’ and left. But I know it was her. She hasn’t changed since… then.

You need to get on a train right now. If she’s going back this could be our only chance.

She reread it once, twice, three times, four, and she could not believe it.

The impossible stood before them. The same mare that had vanished so many years ago was here, in the flesh, alive, well.

But not who she was. Never who she was. One did not remain themselves after something like that. None of them truly went unchanged, and that was the bare truth of the matter.

“Where have you been these past few years?” Twilight demanded. The mare shrugged, gaze remaining even and blank.

“Physically? Everywhere. In spirit? With her.” She jerked her head in the general direction of the tombstone. “Still am. Always will be.”

Twilight fought an internal battle to hug her. A tiny, dry, whimpering sob of relief fought to get out but she held steady.

Rarity, on the other hoof, walked over with practiced nonchalance, put her flowers down next to the too-bright daisies with care, straightened up, and slapped the mare. Then, she slammed herself into an embrace that was much more a physical assault, gripping onto everything she could get her hoofs on, every piece of evidence that she wasn’t dreaming this like all the other times.

“You act like nothing has happened,” she wailed, muffled against the other mare’s chest. A hoof wrapped around her with a heaviness that spoke of grudging comfort; if only because of their long, close friendship.

“You left us four years and thirty eight moons ago. Exactly twenty one moons after it happened. You left all of us floundering, worried to death about where you were, what you were doing, if you had…” Rarity trailed off, and a tremor shot through her. She sobbed.

“Died?” The mare finished. “Like I said, in spirit, I’m with her.”

“Don’t give us that. We all lost her,” Twilight snapped.

“You didn’t lose her like I did,” was the simple reply. Emotion did not exist in the voice, and it was scary. “You didn’t love her like I did.” A bitter snicker. “Well, maybe one of you did.”

Her head shot to the side, the other side than before, as Rarity smacked her again. Then Rarity went back to hugging her, as if she couldn’t help herself.

“Guess I deserved that one.”

“We need to talk,” Twilight decided. “You can’t just disappear again without telling us anything.”

“I don’t owe any of you anything. Don’t hit me again,” she warned, just the tiniest hint of humor in her voice, batting Rarity’s ominously raised foreleg away. Rarity continued to sniffle and hold her close.

“You’re our friend. I’d rather go to Tartarus than go through the past five years again. Please, just, lets go get coffee and after that, you can go,” Twilight pleaded.

“Fine. Just coffee,” the mare replied. “But, give me a moment here, okay?” Twilight looked at her skeptically, and Rarity pulled away to do the same. The mare rolled her eyes. “I promise I won’t run away.”

Rarity nodded and turned. Twilight walked up to put her flowers to the left of the others, and smiled at the mare sadly, hugging her despite earlier hesitancy. To her surprise, a brush of a nuzzle was given to the top of her head, so chaste it almost didn’t classify as one.

Together, Rarity and Twilight walked to the entrance. As soon as they disappeared from view, the mare turned back to the tombstone, alone now, finally. Again she tucked her legs under herself and laid down on the cold ground the way one might lay next to a warm fire.

“Hey,” she whispered, tracing the letters on the stone lovingly. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to visit in so long. It’s me, Pinkie. It’s Applejack.”

Author's Note

And so begins my journey into Most Delicious Ship© territory.

It’s mostly happy.

...Maybe.

Now, this story has... a bit of sexual content in later chapters. Okay, a lot. The mature tag isn't a joke. The sex itself is relatively vanilla I warn you (or assure you) now. It’s meant to be tasteful and a display of a couple's bond through their bodies. It also has some word-building elements

Chapters will be updated spastically, two at a time, so that you get more ApplePie for your buck.

Thanks for reading and happy shipping.