A Twist and a Shot: Cry Hard
Dramatically Wounded Rarity
There was a knock at the door.
“Comiiing,” Rarity sang in that sing-song voice of hers before she made her way to the front of the room and opened the door with a burst of blue magic.
Beyond the extravagant decorations and colors of the doorway’s frame stood a lone Royal Guard. He was the pinnacle of everything the Guard stood for, with a coat so white and clean that it may have even come close to rivaling that of Celestia’s. The plates of his golden armor shone and sparkled in the streams of sunlight as if studded with a million diamonds, and were polished so well that there was no doubt the nobles would be fighting amongst themselves over who should have the honor of using them at one of their exorbitant dinners.
Rarity could see her own jaw drop in the reflection on the Guard’s breastplate. Her own eyes locked with his, pools of azure widening to meet pools of light cyan. She felt an overwhelming force rush over her, urging her to bring a hoof to her forehead and faint straight away — but she fought to resist with all her might, to work her mouth to ask the Guard to come inside for some tea and a relaxing snack — for she knew at this very moment, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was the stallion she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. But alack and alas, she could not force the words out of her mouth.
In the distance, something exploded.
In her shock, her eyes were (regrettably, woefully) torn away from her future husband’s and towards the huge glass windows lining the wall to her left. By the stars, it seemed like flights of ponies were engaged in deathly battle with the Royal Guard all across the castle’s grounds!
The Guard that was Rarity’s husband-to-be cleared his throat. Her head swiveled to lock their eyes together again, giving him her utmost attention as she stared into those beautiful black orbs of his.
He seemed to stumble under the gaze, but quickly recovered. “M-Miss Rarity, the citizenry of Equestria has risen up in revolution! I am to bring you to the Princesses at once for evacuation!”
Rarity brought a hoof to her muzzle and gasped. “But my dresses! Quickly my love, we must save my dresses!”
She encased her other half in the warm, soothing waves of her magic and dragged him along with her as she bounded back into the depths of her workshop. The alabaster mare almost seemed to begin to hyperventilate as she took all the care in the world to take each of her dresses off the mannequins and fold them with all the tenderness a mother cradling her foal for the first time would exhibit.
A purple burst of energy suddenly slammed into one of the wall-length windows on the far wall, shredding the glass into microscopic shards sharp enough to cut through gemstones and sending the whole thing flying at Rarity’s backside like a tornado of spinning cheese graters.
It was all Rarity could do to stop herself from shrieking. Instead, time seemed to slow down as she dove to the side and rolled onto her back, flipping herself around to face the oncoming storm like some kind of action hero from one of those comic books Spike likes to read so much. Her body and brain now operating on nothing but raw animalistic instinct, she drove her magic to flare as she defended herself with the only thing she could — her dresses, already in her telekinetic grip when the window exploded.
The fragments of glass tore through the expertly layered fabric and masterful sewing and majestic decorations like so many parasprites tore through Applejack’s barn that one day in Ponyville. Rarity screamed as she watched her hoofiwork disintegrate before her very eyes — and yet, their sacrifices were not in vain, for not a single shard had even come close the touching the silky softness that was Rarity’s coat.
When all was over, the ivory unicorn simply stared at the tattered remnants of her various items of masterwork still floating in her telekinetic field. Her face was blank and stony — not unlike that of her future husband’s when she had first met him — but deep down her heart swirled in turmoil, and she didn’t know whether she should be crying or yelling.
“Miss Rarity!” her true love called. He bounded over to her in an instant. “Are you alright?”
A feeling of blissful calm washed over Rarity as she took in the sight of the stallion of her dreams hanging in concern over her as he helped her to her hooves. She felt safe and at home, and had no trouble giving him a small smile.
“Yes, my love,” she replied cheerfully. “I’m perfectly fine.”
Suddenly she realized she was still holding on to the shredded remains of her dresses. She let them go, and watched them unceremoniously flop to the ground. It was as if a cold wind of finality had gripped the mare by her bones.
“We really need to go now, Miss Rarity.” He looked to the window. “The rebels are getting closer.”
The voice of her love brought her back to the present. “Of course, my beloved. Lead us to salvation!”
They left the room at a brisk trot. Rarity looked over her shoulder as it slowly faded from view before disappearing completely as they took a corner. Even though the little workshop could hardly claim to match the Carousel Boutique in elegance or grandeur, it was still her home away from home, so to speak. She used it almost every time she came to visit Canterlot, and it was even the place where she had made that dress for her best friend Twilight Sparkle on her birthday that she loved so much. And now she couldn’t shake the feeling that she would never be seeing the quaint little room again.
A single tear rolled down her cheek.
The duo barged through a set of heavy wooden doors as they entered Canterlot Castle proper, submerging themselves into a world of royal red carpets and tapestries lining the endless hallways and ornate golden accents along the window frames and pillars and around the frescos of ponies frolicking in fields and portraits possessing the serene countenances of various famous mares and stallions whose names remained forever lost to the annals of history on the ceiling.
There was nary a sound as the two walked, save for the muffled booms of distant explosions that rattled the windows and caused the crystal chandeliers hanging overhead to swing, and the steady clip-clop of their own hoof beats. Rarity made an effort to stay as close to her handsome knight as she could, sometimes even accidentally brushing or bumping against him. Once she could feel his hair stand on end when she managed to brush up against the exposed area near his belly. Immediately she thought she had touched him inappropriately and made to apologize, but when she opened her mouth she was stopped by the faintest tinge of pink on the flesh of his cheeks.
From then on, it wasn’t always by accident. He didn’t seem to mind.
After what felt like an eternity of walking down a maze of hallways that thoroughly confused Rarity as to their location (oh, she knew her way about the castle like the back of her hoof thanks to her frequent escapades with Twilight within its walls, but this time she had something much more interesting to pay attention to as opposed to where she was going), her husband-to-be led her through another set of heavy wooden doors and into what must have been one of the smallest rooms in the whole castle.
Only to come face-to-face with a whole crowd of ponies wielding an assortment of torches and pitchforks.
Rarity gasped, and quickly grabbed the hoof of her loved one. “If we don’t make it through this... I want you to know... I love you.”
She leaned in towards his lips, her eyes closed and her mouth puckered. Unbeknownst to her, he simply grinned, all teeth. “I know.”
There was an unexpected flash of green, and when Rarity opened her eyes in curiosity, she screamed. Her beloved knight in shining armor was now a changeling!
The buzz of insect wings filled the air and grated on the delicate flesh of Rarity’s ears as the parasite floated into the air. He threw his legs out and began to laugh manically, with thunder crashing overhead and lightning flashing in the sky behind him through the windows.
The crowd of rebels stared at the changeling wide-eyed, many of them dropping their torches and pitchforks onto the floor as they went slack-jawed.
“What a twist,” Rarity whispered to herself as tears began to flow freely from her eyes. The changeling continued to laugh evilly near the ceiling, completely oblivious to everything as he reveled in his breaking of a fair maiden’s heart.
Through the salty water spilling from her eyes like an ever-flowing river, Rarity spotted something in the group by naught but chance. A unicorn near the back was loading a musket. Rarity’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets when she saw him level the weapon at her!
The bang was loud, and the changeling fell, body seeming weightless, though the shot that took him was weighty indeed.
Before Rarity even fully realized what had happened, she was on the floor next to the changeling, cradling him in her hooves.
“You saved me... but-but I thought you were laughing evilly... why?” the unicorn choked out through the bitter taste of her own tears on her tongue.
The changeling coughed through ragged breaths. “I guess I got carried away...” He coughed up a mixture of blood and mucus onto Rarity’s foreleg. Surprisingly, she did not faint from disgust. “You gave me so much love for no reason at all and it kind of made me... drunk. It’s your fault for assuming I was laughing evilly. I was actually laughing in...”
He squeezed his eyes shut, groaning in pain.
“Joy... I’ve never been so... joyful.”
Rarity leaned down, tears still falling like waterfalls, and gently pressed her lips onto her amazing little savior’s.
He cooed, and kissed her as lovingly and gently as he possibly could, before another bout of hacking and coughing tore him away from their shared moment of absolute bliss.
“Will...” Rarity whispered into his ear, cradling and caressing him like her own little foal, a thousand times more lovingly than she ever did her dresses.
“Will you marry me?” she choked out.
His breathing was getting shallower and shallower as time went on, and Rarity had to lean her ear right next to his mouth to hear his next words. She shivered at the pleasure his warm breath elicited as it tingled against her coat.
“Of course. I love you... Rarity.”
“I love you too,” Rarity sobbed. “As Celestia as my witness, I promise you... you will be my only special somepony for as long as I shall live. Only you... my dear husband.”
He smiled.
And then he was gone.
As Rarity lay there, crying hysterically over the body of her beloved changeling husband, the rebels broke out into a pillow fight.
