Moments in Time

Rarity did not know how long the darkness remained, but suddenly she became aware of stimuli once again reaching her. Though the light stung her ill-adjusted eyes and the soft music seemed to pierce her skull, they were nevertheless the sweetest sensations she had ever experienced.

The song itself seemed to trigger some sort of recognition in her mind, though for the moment she was far too shell-shocked to even attempt to distinguish the music created by the jumble of sounds.

Slowly, the realisation dawned: it was a wedding march, which meant there was only one place she could be and only one thing that was happening. Her eyes snapped open and she struggled to pull herself to her hooves, completely ignoring the undignified nature of flopping around on the floor like a fish. Gazing upwards, the simple wooden beams of the ceiling and the crisp white walls at the edges of her vision removed all doubt of where she was, despite the fact that they were spinning wildly.

She was inside the town hall, the premier location for indoor weddings in Ponyville.

Twilight’s spell must have malfunctioned and teleported her into the middle of some poor mare’s wedding.

By the time her eyes had ceased stinging and the pure blinding light had dulled, she managed to pull herself into a sitting position that had her facing outwards towards the exit.

The occupants of the room confirmed her worst fears. Everypony seemed to be done up in their best outfits, and all appeared to be facing towards the exit, no doubt waiting for the appearance of the blushing bride.

Rarity, having significant experiences at social gatherings, immediately leapt into action to minimize her presence.

The pony standing to her right seemed to be her best chance, a middle aged unicorn stallion with a brown coat and light orange mane. The lines of his face seemed to project a kindly air that bolstered her confidence.

“Excuse me, sir,” Rarity whispered, giving him a slight nudge with her telekinesis. Physical contact was an impossibility, since she was incapable of walking at the moment and out of hoof’s reach. “Would you be a gentlecolt and help me?”

Unfortunately, the stallion seemed to give no response. His eyes and ears didn’t move a single iota to give an indication that he had even heard her.

Giving a harrumph at his rudeness, she immediately attempted the same thing to her other side, only to be met with the same response.

Suddenly, she caught a glimpse of white out of the edge of her vision. Whipping her head so fast that it hurt, she caught sight of exactly what she hadn’t wanted to see. A mare clad in a pure white dress was taking small steps towards the front of the crowd, a route that placed Rarity directly into her path.

Something about the bride seemed to resonate with Rarity, sending a shudder down the length of the body. Perhaps it was the dress itself, which was a creation that she would be proud to call her own, or maybe it was her mane, which was done up so perfectly that to move a single hair out of place would have ruined it. It even seemed that the mare shared her own colouring, a pure white coat complemented by a purple mane, though that could simply be a trick that her still-muddled brain and eyes were playing on her.

However, the identity of the bride could not be determined by Rarity at that moment, thanks to the heavy veil and the beautiful dress that hid the unintended host’s face and cutie mark.

“I’m so, so sorry, darling,” Rarity sputtered out, her irises reduced to pinpricks as she fought down the urge to hyperventilate. “I can explain everything, though I’m sure that that is the last thing on your mind. I just can’t seem to get up and I know that today is your special day and that you shouldn’t need to worry about things like this, but—.”

Though Rarity continued to babble, the bride did not seem to make any indication that there was anything impeding her path. In fact, something about the whole situation didn’t seem right to the more logical part of Rarity’s mind, though they were cast aside in the face of her panic.

Therefore, when the bride had reached a distance that she was sure was going to correspond with angry yelling, Rarity nearly fainted when she passed right through her, instead. The feeling could only be described as odd, with no real words existing that would be able to accurately pin down the sensation.

Furthermore, since the mare and she shared roughly the same height, for a split second her eyes had pierced the veil and seen just who the bride was.

It was Rarity.

For several moments, all that the alabaster mare could do was open and close her mouth repeatedly as she struggled to come to terms with what had just happened.

Slowly, as she heard the bride continue on her path, the pieces began to fall into place. Her doppelganger, Twilight’s spell, the disorientation and invisibility. She must have been in the future.

After a few more seconds of thinking, another revelation hit her that left her mouth dry and heart pounding in her ears: that meant that she was at her own wedding, and that meant that the groom, the love of her life, was behind her.

“No, Rarity,” she softly scolded herself. “This is not something that you should see yet.”

By that point, her disorientation had retreated enough that she was able to stand up. However, her balance was only tentative at best, her knees wobbling uncontrollably and the world spinning wildly until she once again seated herself on the ground.

Immediately upon making her decision, she engaged her magic to telekinetically plug her ears to prevent the unintended chance of hearing her future spouse’s voice. After the immediate threat had been dealt with, she readied another burst of magic, sending forth a spiralling comet the same colour of her telekinesis upwards from her horn. As it phased through the ceiling, she breathed a sigh of relief and prepared herself for the same falling sensation that would send her home.

When no feeling of magic became apparent straight away, a small worm of doubt squirmed its way inside of her, though she still forced herself to sit and wait, no matter how much her muscles begged her to leap into action.

As she waited, her doubt slowly transforming into impatience, an epiphany hit her; she had been in the future for more than thirty seconds. Though her initial reaction was to panic, she forced herself to remain detached and logical. Twilight herself had told everypony that the visions of the past she had witnessed had been great epics, far greater than the mere moments it had been from Rarity’s perspective. Therefore, it stood to reason that the same thing was happening to her.

With a tired sigh, Rarity consigned herself to a long period of waiting until she could either feel well enough to exit the building swiftly, minimising the risk of seeing something that was yet to come, or Twilight received her flare and stopped the spell.

As she sat there, she was left with nothing to do but dwell on her own thoughts. What if she was unable to return to the present? What if she was trapped for the rest of her life watching events in her life that she herself would never get to experience?

The sheer ridiculousness of these thoughts prompted her to let out a snort of astonishment that her own mind had even spawned them. She had the utmost faith that Twilight would do all in her power to rescue her, and power was something that she had no shortage of. On top of that, logic dictated—as Twilight herself would encourage—that if these events that she was witnessing were from the future, then she must have recovered in order to allow them to happen.

As soon as she dismissed that particular thought, another one immediately surfaced to replace it: just who was the stallion that was standing at the end of the room behind her? Though she employed all of her mental strength in an attempt to suppress it, her traitorous mind continued to allow it to flash into her thoughts, as strong and compelling as ever. A thousand possibilities floated through her mind on the identity of the groom: Trenderhoof, Big Macintosh, Noteworthy or maybe even somepony that would be a complete stranger to her.

Though she put up her most valiant of efforts to resist the allure of knowing who would win her heart, the information was just too tempting. Her will to resist caved suddenly, and she found herself turning around as swiftly and with as much dignity as possible.

What she saw shocked her to very core, leaving her jaw hanging open.

It was Spike. She could hardly believe it even while she witnessed it with her own two eyes, but it was undoubtedly him.

Standing slightly to the right of the podium, he was clad in a black suit that was impeccably made; something that Rarity was willing to wager was her own hoofwork. However, despite the sheer quality of the suit, it didn’t look right to the fashion designer’s practised eyes. The jacket seemed to be done up with two buttons, rather than three, and the lapels were slimmer than she would have recommended. On top of that, the crisp white shirt was unruffled and the black tie that complimented it seemed to be far slimmer than anything she had ever seen before.

In fact, the whole ensemble would have been slightly morbid, if not for two splashes of colour. The first was a golden bar, a tie clip that was pinned to his shirt where his heart would be. The other was a single red rose that he wore on his lapel.

All in all, Rarity had to admit that it was an amazingly stylish outfit, even with the strangeness of the future fashion. She really didn’t expect anything else from herself, past, present or future.

On top of everything else, from her distance at least, he seemed to be taller and sleeker. Gone were the chubby belly and pigeon toed feet, replaced with a lightly muscled physique and a height that brought him to stand just slightly taller than his bride-to-be.

Her future self, on the other hoof, stood to the left and gazed into the future Spike’s eyes lovingly. The veil was removed from her face to reveal features identical to those Rarity saw in the mirror each morning. She was done up in a white wedding dress that was so remarkably familiar to the present Rarity’s eyes she couldn’t help but be embarrassed for not recognising it earlier.

Ever since she had been given the opportunity to design the wedding dress for Princess Cadence, she had known exactly what her own dress would look like when it was her time. She had poured her soul into the dress that the princess had worn down the aisle, and she knew that it would be the exact same style that Rarity herself would wear, with the colours adjusted to suit her own colouration, of course.

To complete the image, Twilight stood slightly behind the couple, seeming to act as the celebrant. In contrast to the bride and groom, the purple alicorn seemed to only wear a simple combination of horseshoes, gorget and tiara that resembled those of her fellow princesses.

The princess seemed to be speaking, though Rarity’s muting spell prevented her from hearing just what it was that she was saying. Despite lacking that crucial element, it was of little difficulty for Rarity to guess what she was talking about; the tears running unimpeded down her cheeks in spite of a happy smile was enough.

Deciding then that she had already witnessed enough to make any preventative measures redundant, she quickly deactivated her muting spell with a small pop.

Suddenly, a barrage of sounds assaulted her ears, almost deafening her after the total silence that she had previously been enveloped in. She could pick up the tap of a restless hoof on the wooden floor, a muffled cough from the back of the room, and even the gentle sniffles that seemed to emanate from a mare seated in the very first row that suspiciously resembled Fluttershy.

“—so happy for you both.” For a minute Twilight seemed to struggle to continue, her eyes scrunched tight as she dabbed them with a hoofkerchief that had been levitated over to her within a green aura.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she turned to face Spike, though her attempts to stem the flow of tears seemed ineffective. “I suppose whenever I look at you, I still see that chubby little drake that I used to read bedtime stories to.”

As a fierce blush spread over Spike’s features, he seemed to be searching for a way to cease his embarrassment. Just before he was about to open his mouth to say something, his bride gave him a subtle shake of her head. He trusted her judgement for circumstances such as this.

“Rarity.” Twilight turned herself to address the bride. “Promise me that you’ll look after him.”

The future Rarity gave a small titter, reaching out to give her friend a tight hug. “I promise, darling, though only if you let him look after me as well.”

The alicorn gave out a watery laugh, before a look of steely determination filled her eyes, and she untangled herself from her friend’s embrace, turning to address the crowd. “Spike and Rarity have written their own vows and will now share them with each other before they exchange rings.”

As she spoke, another mare stepped up from among the front row, a small ring pillow levitated at her side in the same telekinetic aura that had offered the hoofkerchief to Twilight. For a moment, the present Rarity did not recognise who it was, before it began to click: the white coat, the curly pink and purple mane, and the happy smile that she had witnessed only a few hours ago before she had left her boutique (albeit projected by more mature features).

The revelation that she was looking at her grown-up sister did surprisingly little to faze her; the fashionista mused to herself that she had already experienced so many shocks in the span of a few moments that she had reached her limit.

Noticing that her sister’s cutie mark was obscured by her simple green silk dress brought a small chuckle to the fashionista’s lips. It seemed that no matter the situation, the filly’s mark would remain hidden to everypony until the time was right. Rarity supposed it was for the best; she had already done enough damage that day without knowing what her sister’s cutie mark would be, as well. Her own romance was her decision to see, but she couldn’t bear the thought of potentially damaging her sister’s future purely because she looked when she shouldn’t have.

Sweetie Belle moved to levitate the pillow, on which two rings were housed, between the bride and groom.

As soon as this was accomplished, a familiar yet foreign voice filled the room, its strong yet gentle strength carrying it clearly to everypony in attendance. It was undoubtedly Spike’s, though it was deeper than his past voice, carrying a level of maturity that Rarity had never heard from him before.

“Rarity, from the first moment that I met you, I felt an attraction to you, though back then I was only a foal I had no idea of any matter as intricate as the heart. Perhaps from the first moment I met you, I loved you, though if I did it was a superficial love. It was only as time moved on that I learned about your inner self, and that it was just as lovely as your exterior. What other pony would ever slave away just to make five dresses for her friends, or be willing to dredge through dirt and mud, a substance that you hate with a passion, just to make your sister happy?”

While Spike spoke, both Raritys seemed to be drawn to him; one out of unbridled love, and the other out of amazement. While the future Rarity drew closer to him with small gradual steps, the present one was making her way to the front of the hall as quickly as she could muster on unsteady hooves. She was drawn, hypnotised, to the events unfolding before her.

“It still amazes me to this day that a mare as amazing and beautiful as you, inside and out, loves me, and sometimes I wake up thinking that it was nothing but a dream. I know that I’m not worthy of your love, but I promise you that I will spend every moment of every day repaying you for your generosity, to give me your heart so willingly and for giving me so much joy.”

The present Rarity couldn’t help but swoon slightly at Spike’s breathtakingly romantic words. Truth be told, though she would never admit it to anyone but herself, she was beginning to see just what it her future self saw in the dragon. She could even admit that he was rather handsome, in an exotic way; there was just something about his sleek appearance—an appearance that no pony could hope to replicate—that just seemed to appeal to her.

As his vows concluded, Spike deftly extracted the ring that he had painstakingly mulled over from its velvet rest. Just as he spoke the final word he delicately reached out and placed it on the horn of the love of his life, her already happy smile morphing into something more akin to pure bliss.

The present Rarity couldn’t help but look out a small shocked gasp at the display, the true depth of her future self’s love for Spike finally hitting home. For a unicorn to allow somepony else to touch their horn was the greatest symbol of trust, usually being reserved for family, close friends and, most relevant in this case, those who were truly in love.

The future Rarity gently reached up and rubbed a loving hoof against Spike’s cheek.

“Spikey Wikey, you never need to pay me back, for without you I would never be as happy as I am right now. Just knowing that I make you happy, and that you do the same for me, fills me with such joy that it sometimes feels like my heart may burst. You complete me, Spike; that is plain as day to me, and looking back I can’t even imagine how I lived without your love. For your wonderful gift, I promise you that I will always be with you, no matter what happens from now until the end of time, if not physically,” she stretched out a foreleg and laid her hoof gently on his chest so that she was able to feel the rapid beating off his heart, “then in here.”

Though nopony noticed it, not even the two Raritys, a ghost of a frown flickered across Spike’s face, though it was gone the very next moment.

After her own vows were finished, the future Rarity levitated the other ring from its place on the cushion; this one was smaller than its counterpart to allow for it to fit properly onto Spike’s claw. Though she did levitate it until it was on his left ring claw, she instead used her hooves to push it the rest of the way, carefully placing the lightest of kisses just above it on his knuckle after she had done so.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Twilight said, before pausing for the recommended time to allow the couple another moment to gaze into each other’s eyes. “You may now kiss the bride,”

The newlyweds needed no further prompting. The distance between them was so insignificant by then that they barely needed to lean forward. The bride gazed at Spike through half lidded eyes, a small, playful curve on her lips, her sapphire orbs sparkling slightly. Spike was smiling so widely that it almost looked like it hurt, though he was in such a state of bliss that he couldn’t even notice his aching muscles.

As the couple’s lips met, they almost seemed to melt into each other. Spike’s claws reached around to rest on the future Rarity’s back,  gently drawing her as close to him as possible. His wife seemed equally enthused, wrapping her hooves around his neck tightly, her chest pressed tightly against his own.

Looking at her future self’s very public display of affection, Rarity couldn’t help but blush slightly. Though she did recognise that she was not really watching herself, but rather who she would one day be, she could still not help but be embarrassed at how nonchalant she was at having so many onlookers witnessing such a deep kiss. Personally, she had always been rather cautious of such things, with a mix of a desire to maintain her ladylike dignity and her personal lack of experience.

As the couple’s kiss deepened, and the crowd’s cheers and clapping grew louder and more boisterous, Rarity suddenly felt a strange sensation run up the base of her spine. A second later, tingles broke out all over her body and the strength in her legs left her all at once, causing her to collapse uncomfortably to the floor.

With all her might, she tried to regain her footing, desperate to see more of what her future wedding day would offer her. She was hooked and could not bear to miss any moment of it.

Slowly, the same green-tinged magic that had brought her to the future, which was now visible to her eyes, once again began to appear around her, gradually growing in intensity until it was so dense that it blocked out all light, leaving only the all too familiar blackness and the sensation of falling.