“I *boing* can’t *boing* believe *boing* the Grand *boing* Galloping *boing* Gala *boing* is *boing* tonight!!”
Ugh, please Celestia, make it stop!
Capriccio lay prostrate on the grass underneath the large oak tree in front of Carousel Boutique, teeth gritted, eyes closed, and hooves firmly plugged into his ears. He’d been listening to Pinkie Pie bounding up and down on her personal trampoline for nearly an hour already, and he was near his wit’s end. How can one pony make so much damn noise?
For a while, it had merely been a mild distraction for him and the few other ponies around. He hadn’t bothered paying her much attention; after all, it was just Pinkie being Pinkie. After two or three or forty-five minutes though, it began to wear on his nerves and eardrums just a little bit.
“Pinkie, please stop shouting! I’m trying to concentrate!” Twilight Sparkle was just about as fed up with Pinkie’s incessant bouncing as Capriccio was. She’d tried to ignore it for as long as she could, but the relentless creaking of the springs and Pinkie’s piercing soprano had been grating on her long enough. She’d been poring over a book of spells for a while now, trying to find just the right combination of magic to help facilitate tonight’s transportation to the Gala, and it had required all her focus. Focus that was still being distracted by Pinkie continuing to jump on her trampoline, paying no attention to Twilight’s request.
She turned and looked over towards the green, blonde-maned Pegasus laying under the tree. “Can’t you do something about this?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Capriccio gave her a rather annoyed look. “Since when has Pinkie ever listened to me? I’d have better luck trying to get Applejack into a fairy princess outfit.”
“Hey, I thought we agreed not to talk about that anymore!” Applejack shot him a glare as she also tried to shield herself from Pinkie’s earsplitting whooping and hollering. “Last time I ever go to a slumber party…”
Twilight tried to shake the racket going on behind her out of her head, to no avail. “Can’t somebody say something? I’m trying to focus, but that’s impossible with all this noise!” She did her best to not-so-subtly clue Pinkie Pie in on the irritation she was causing everypony else, but Pinkie paid her no mind as she merrily bounced along.
Capriccio just jammed his hooves into his ears even tighter, but nothing could keep Pinkie’s voice and the “sproings” of the trampoline from penetrating his eardrums. It’s like fluffy pink nails on the chalkboard of my brain!
Fortunately though, relief was finally delivered, by a certain white unicorn.
“Pinkie Pie! Stop that right now! It’s time to prepare for the Gala and I refuse to let you put on your new dress if you’re all sweaty.”
Rarity came trotting out of Carousel Boutique with a stern expression on her face, one that Pinkie Pie took as a cue that her time of trampoline fun was finished. Everypony around her breathed a sigh of relief as she lightly stepped down from her bouncy device and stood silently, wearing a look like a puppy that had just been told it was a bad dog. The fashionista didn’t pay much attention to her, though; her ire was immediately drawn to the Pegasus lazing under her oak tree.
“And you, Capriccio! What are you doing lying down on the ground like that? I’ve just finished your tuxedo, and you’re going to dirty yourself before you put it on? I mean, honestly, have you no respect at all for yourself?”
Again with this? Any sense of respite that Capriccio felt now that Pinkie’s bouncing had ceased was immediately replaced by one of frustration. “Rarity, can you please just let me rest here for a little bit? I’ve spent the whole day helping you guys get prepared for tonight, and I need a little break.”
Rarity trotted up to him, a disapproving look gracing her visage. “But must you lie down in the grass? You’re going to get grass stains on your coat.”
Capriccio gave her a quizzical look. “Grass stains on my…coat? That’s a joke, right?” He wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. Surely she couldn’t have meant that. But Rarity gave no indication that she was being humorous. Wow, she’s actually serious.
He hoisted himself up to sit on his haunches and tapped a hoof to his chin pensively. “So let me get this straight. You’re worried about me getting grass stains…on my dark green coat?”
A few light snickers arose from the others, but Rarity continued to glare at Capriccio. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m worried about. I won’t stand for you sullying yourself right before the Gala.”
Capriccio laughed, finding it very hard to believe that Rarity couldn’t see the inconsistency in her disapproval. “Sorry, let me try this again. You’re worried about me getting dark green grass stains that won’t be visible against my dark green coat on me?”
Rarity sighed and pressed a hoof to her face in frustration. “You’re simply missing the point, darling. It’s bothering me that you’re not paying any attention to your appearance. This could very well be the most important night of our lives, and look at you! Your mane is an absolute mess, you’ve got dirt stains on your hooves, and you still desperately need to shave.”
Capriccio’s mirthful expression immediately darkened. “Ok, first of all, I’m not going to shave. End of story.” He was amazed she would even ask him to do that. His goatee was one of his defining characteristics, almost as much so as his cutie mark. Ever since he could grow facial hair, there had almost always been a goatee adorning his chin. The one time he had decided to shave it, he nearly became unrecognizable to his peers. How many times did I hear ‘I know who you are, but something’s missing?’ He’d vowed that day to never shave his goatee again, and he wasn’t about to let Rarity coerce him into breaking that promise.
“Secondly, I haven’t had time to get myself cleaned up because I’ve been running around town doing errands for Twilight and Applejack and helping them get all of their things together for tonight.” Capriccio knew she was right about him looking like a mess, but the chores he’d been asked to do that day hadn’t really left him much time before now to get himself together. All morning he had helped Twilight and Spike search the library for the book of spells she was currently absorbed with, and it hadn’t been easy to find at all. It had taken them nearly an hour and a half to sort through the library’s shelves; the book, it turned out, had been accidentally jammed behind a full row of books on the top shelf. Twilight had been incredibly upset that she hadn’t noticed it was there the last time she had reshelved the library’s collection. Then it had taken them another two and a half hours to reshelve the books they had thrown on the floor in search of the rogue spell anthology. He ended up showing up late to Sweet Apple Acres to help Applejack gather all the supplies she needed for her vendor’s stand. To make matters worse, a few of the apples she had planned on using for baking had been spoiled, and he’d had to make his way out to a distant orchard and harvest another barrel’s worth for her. And with summer beginning to kick into high gear, the weather was not very conducive to a comfortable work environment. When he finally arrived at Carousel Boutique that afternoon to prepare for the Gala, he was sweaty, disheveled, and thoroughly exhausted.
“And finally, I think you’re exaggerating how much this night actually matters. It’s just another night to me. It’s not really that important.”
“Not that important!?” The ponies around him exclaimed in unison. They were all shocked he would even suggest such a thing, none more so than Rarity, who stared him down as if he’d just insulted her perfectly styled mane. “This, Capriccio, is the Grand Galloping Gala, the most important event of the year throughout all of Equestria! Only the highest of the high-class ponies are going to be there. I can’t believe you would even think that tonight is ‘not a big deal.’ This night could very well change all of our lives!”
Pinkie Pie stepped towards him, speaking for the first time since disembarking her trampoline. “Yeah, Cappy. Don’t you think it’s going to be fun?” She still had the sad puppy-dog look on her face.
Capriccio was a little taken aback by her question. He hadn’t meant to imply that he thought tonight was going to be miserable. “Of course I think it’s going to be fun, Pinkie.” He gave her a smile, which brought a big smile of her own to her face. “But I’m not convinced that it’s going to be a life-changing event.”
Twilight Sparkle looked up at him from her book, questioning him with her eyes. “Don’t you have any expectations at all for tonight?”
Capriccio pondered her question for a moment. The truth was, he hoped tonight would help propel him to greater fame as one of Equestria’s great musicians. His invitation had come directly from Princess Celestia, who had informed him that a few of the pieces he had written while at the Royal School of Music would be programmed into the musical entertainment for the evening. To say he was honored would be an understatement, and he felt the possibilities of what could come of tonight were staggering. Rarity was right about one thing; the Gala would be filled mares and stallions of power, in business and the arts alike. If they liked his work, and were willing to share it with the other members of the aristocracy, he could become famous virtually overnight.
But who am I kidding? The likelihood of that actually happening is practically zero, so it’s not even worth thinking about.
“I can’t say I do, Twilight.” He stood up and began pacing underneath the tree, gesticulating as he spoke. “Here’s what I think’s going to happen. I’m going to go to the Gala, mingle a little bit, enjoy some music, maybe chat with a few old friends, and then leave. Tomorrow, I’ll reminisce about it with the rest of you, and then I’ll go about the rest of my life. It’ll be a nice memory, but not much more than that.”
“I suppose that’s where we differ, Capriccio,” Rarity acknowledged. “And I can respect your opinion on that. But that still doesn’t mean you can just disregard your appearance by lazing around in the dirt.”
“Well, I don’t have a couch that I can drag around whenever I feel like it.” Capriccio shot Rarity a smug glance. “…like somepony we know.”
“Hmmph.” Rarity wasn’t amused, even a few of the other ponies offered a chuckle at Capriccio’s playful little jab. “At least I take the time to worry about my appearance. But I guess I shouldn’t expect much in the way of grooming from a Fillydelphian.”
“Hey!” Capriccio had completely lost any semblance of humor that he’d been trying to hold onto, and was now quickly descending into anger. “I might be from Fillydelphia, but that doesn’t mean I need your advice on how to keep my appearances up! I’m a grown stallion; I can take care of myself!”
“Whoa there!” Applejack, sensing that another fight was about ready to break out, stepped between the two. “Now let’s just take it easy and—”
“Is that why you haven’t trimmed your mane or filed your hooves in months? And when are you going to shave that monstrosity on your chin?” Rarity was just as furious as Capriccio was. “Honestly, have you even looked in a mirror lately?”
“How can I? You won’t move out from in front of it! If it were up to you, you’d never even make it to the Gala because you’d be positioning every single hair on your head until it was just perfect!” Capriccio was fuming. “And I’m not shaving!”
“How dare you! I do not spend too much time in front of the mirror, just more than you do! Which isn’t hard since you’ve clearly never set hoof in front of one!”
“I look just fine, dammit!”
“You look fine!? You’re out here wallowing in the mud like a pig!”
“What did you call me!?”
“I think you heard me!”
“Priss!”
“Boor!”
“THAT’S ENOUGH!!”
Twilight Sparkle slammed her book shut and stomped over to the arguing pair. “Honestly, can you two go more than five seconds without arguing with each other? It’s been like this all week!”
“He’s the one who started it,” Rarity haughtily replied, turning her head up and waving her hoof at Capriccio. “He’s the one who insulted me, and just for actually caring about my personal appearance.”
“I was making a joke, Rarity. You’re the one who went and insulted me!” Capriccio glared daggers at her, even more incensed that she had the gall to insinuate that he had started the fight.
Twilight stepped between the two of them. “Stop it, both of you! You’re acting like foals!”
“I most certainly am not!” Rarity shot a reproving look at Twilight. “I am a lady and will act as such. If anyone is acting immature, it’s him.”
Capriccio had heard enough. “Whatever, I don’t need this garbage from you.” He gave a huff as he turned away from the group and began walking away.
“Hey, where are you going?” Pinkie Pie called after him, a twinge of worry in her voice.
Capriccio didn’t even look back. “I’m going to go get cleaned up,” he said, venom dripping from his lips with the last two words. “Apparently, the ‘lady’ over there can’t stand a little spot of dirt on my hooves.” And with that, he spread his wings and took off towards the center of town.
Rarity gave no response other than a simple “Hmmph!” as she purposefully trotted back inside her boutique. The other three ponies all let out a collective sigh as she slammed the door. Twilight looked off in the direction of the town center. “So begins the best night ever…”
***
“Seriously, who does she think she is?”
Capriccio seethed quietly to himself as he stalked around his room in the upper level of the town library. “Does she really think she can just waltz around and tell everypony how they’re supposed to look?”
He walked over to his bed and collapsed onto the soft mattress, staring lazily at the ceiling. “‘Shouldn’t expect much from a Fillydelphian.’ What a royal…I can’t believe she said that.”
He rolled himself over onto his side and stared at the wall, still silently fuming. It was true that Fillydelphia had a reputation for being a rather “blue-saddle” type of town, where ponies often worked hard for a living, but that didn’t mean that it was full of a bunch of ruffians, and Capriccio had grown up in the upper-class of the city’s population. His parents were both members of the Fillydelphia Orchestra, easily the most popular orchestra in all of Equestria. His mother played the cello and often accompanied the smaller chamber ensembles on piano, and his father was the orchestra’s premier violinist and concertmaster. Together, they were two of the most highly regarded ponies in the artistic social circles of Fillydelphia. And they had raised Capriccio to follow in their footsteps, getting him involved in music almost from day one.
While his parents, especially his father, had tried to influence him to be a violinist, he quickly discovered his talents were in composing, rather than performing. When he was still a very young colt, he had written a duet for piano and violin, and his parents had been so excited to show off “their little Mozart” that they arranged a small private concert to perform his new piece. The crowd wasn’t very large—just a few friends, family, and members of the orchestra—but Capriccio’s piece had been enthusiastically received by everyone in attendance. When his parents called him out on stage to take a bow, he looked down to his flank and saw his cutie mark appear before his eyes: an ornamented segno symbol. He hadn’t even been able to bow for the crowd; he could only jump around the stage in excitement and hug his parents, who couldn’t have been prouder.
Since that day, he devoted himself to writing music, eventually becoming a student at the Royal School of Music in Canterlot, where he studied the greatest composers in Equestrian history from Neightoven to Coltland to Rachmaneinov. Soon though, he found himself becoming more interested in the songs of the common folk rather than the music of the greats. At Princess Celestia’s suggestion, he decided to spend some time studying folk music in Ponyville. The Princess agreed to put him in touch with Twilight Sparkle, an old friend of his whom he met after coming to the Royal School, and arranged to have him stay with her in the library.
The transition for him was…a little rough, at first. Capriccio had always had a little trouble making friends, especially after beginning his studies at the Royal School. He was a nice enough colt, but he had the tendency to let his tongue drift into matters of discussion that usually led to him saying something that would come off as overtly sarcastic or slightly offensive, always to his chagrin. More often than not, he’d been able to smooth over whatever it was he had said, whether on the spot or at a later date, salvaging a potentially ruined friendship in the process. Sometimes, though, it didn’t go quite according to plan.
Maybe that’s why Rarity and I aren’t getting along.
He frowned; he thought any animosity between him and Rarity had been put to rest. He thought back to when they were first introduced to each other. His initial impression on Rarity seemed to be a decent one, and their first encounter had ended rather amicably. The next meeting hadn’t gone quite so well; he couldn’t remember what it was he said that had so infuriated her, but he knew he had said something that she felt was out of line, and he remembered apologizing profusely for it. But after that, things seemed to be pretty normal for a little while; they would chat like a regular pair of acquaintances would, and Rarity had even offered to make him a tuxedo for the Gala when she learned that he would be attending with her and the other five. But now he was wondering if she had merely been suppressing any bitterness she had about his less-than-stellar second impression, and was just now letting it come to the surface. Ever since the week of the Gala had arrived, any sort of remark that Capriccio made that could be construed as an inflammatory one would set her off, and they would argue and argue and argue some more. They would usually fight over insignificant little things, too, which is what annoyed Capriccio more than anything else.
Like that damn bowtie.
He shuddered at the memory of that argument. For most of the tuxedo designing and fitting process, he’d deferred to Rarity on all of her fashion-related choices, except for one. He had never been a fan of bowties, and all he’d asked of her was to let him wear a traditional necktie with his tux, but Rarity had insisted that he wear a bowtie. The ensuing fight had lasted for at least an hour, and it had ended with Rarity pinning him to the ground and nearly choking him to death with the bowtie she had forcibly tied around his neck. He was pretty sure he still had a mark on his neck from that strangling fabric…
A knock on his door snapped him out of his recollection. “Who is it?” He wasn’t sure who would be around to knock on his door. The library had been completely empty when he had returned, a rare “Closed” sign hanging in the front window. So who could possibly be here and want to see him?
The door cracked open just a little bit, and Twilight Sparkle stuck her head in.
“Oh, hey Twilight.” He gave her an insincere half-smile and went back to staring at the ceiling.
She took a tentative step through the door. “May I come in?”
“If you want.” He didn’t bother to look down at her.
She walked into the room and set down in the chair next to Capriccio’s bed. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”
He continued to stare at the ceiling. “Just peachy, Twilight. Never better.” He tried to keep his manner as civil as possible, but the sarcasm in his voice was impossible to ignore.
Twilight winced a little bit at his biting remark. “There’s no need to be so caustic. I’m just a bit concerned about you and Rarity.”
He shifted up against the headboard to look at the wall, front legs folded behind his head. “Why me? There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m just doing my own thing.” He tried to convince her that he wasn’t bothered by the previous confrontation he’d just had, but his voice was quickly turning sour. “If that fussbudget wants to argue, that’s fine with me.”
Twilight’s face darkened a little bit. “Why would you think that she’s bent on arguing with you?”
“You heard what she said, Twilight.” Capriccio’s façade of indifference melted away as he mentally recounted the abuse Rarity had thrown at him. “It’s pretty obvious that she hasn’t exactly been enamored with me lately. But hey, if she wants to be hostile, that’s her problem, not mine.”
Twilight gave an exasperated sigh. “But that’s just it, Capriccio. She doesn’t want to argue with you, not at all.”
“Then why has she insisted on giving me grief at every turn for the last week?” The anger in his voice was hard to miss.
Twilight chuckled a little bit, trying her best to lighten the mood. “Oh Capriccio, I would imagine that you’d understand Rarity by now, at least a little bit. You know how she gets sometimes, always nitpicking over every little detail. That’s just the kind of pony she is. Besides, think about how anxious she must be for tonight. She made all those dresses and your tuxedo specifically for tonight, and now she’ll finally be able to put them on display for the aristocracy of Canterlot. She just wants to make sure everypony looks their best.”
He turned his head to look at her, a mix of confusion and frustration in eyes. “That doesn’t explain why she’s been giving me so much more trouble than the rest of you.”
“Oh, believe me. We’ve all gotten our fair share of reprimanding and disapproval from Rarity this week. But we’ve known her long enough to know that she doesn’t mean to be so finicky, that it’s just her nerves taking over, and we’ve learned to let it roll off our shoulders.” She leaned forward in her chair towards him. “It’s better than trying to argue with her, don’t you think?”
Capriccio raised an eyebrow at her. He was trying to comprehend what she had just told him, and he didn’t like the implications she had made. “So…you’re saying this is my fault?” He wasn’t sure how she could possibly be insinuating that.
Twilight put a hoof on his shoulder, understanding that he might be a little annoyed by her comment. “No, that’s not it at all. She’s as much to blame as you are. I’m simply saying that you need to learn to control your impulses just a little bit. I know you don’t appreciate it when she criticizes you about your appearance—and believe me, none of us enjoy that type of thing—but don’t you think it makes things worse when you come back at her with your snide remarks?”
“But I didn’t mean to start a fight, Twi.” He sighed and rolled back to face the wall he’d been staring at. “I was just teasing her a little bit, that’s all. You guys should know that I like to tease everypony, but I don’t mean anything by it. It’s all in good fun, I swear.”
“I know, ‘Cio.” She gave him another pat on his shoulder. “I’ve known you longer than anypony else in town has, I’m pretty sure I understand how you work by now. And I know underneath it all, there’s a pony with a good heart. But you can see how you can come off as a little…abrasive sometimes, right?”
His previous train of thought returned to him; he recalled the spotty details of his first fight with Rarity, the one that had nearly ruined any chance he had of acquiring her friendship. He knew Twilight was right, as much as he hated to admit it.
“Yeah…I understand what you mean, Twilight.” He slumped against the headboard as the truth of her words and the realization of what he had to do next hit him. “I guess I should apologize to Rarity, huh?” he asked, the look on his face not exactly an eager one.
Twilight smiled at him softly. “I think she’d appreciate that.”
He sighed, but smiled genuinely at her as he lifted himself off his bed and walked towards the bedroom door. “Alright, I’ll head back over to the boutique once I get myself cleaned up.”
Twilight stood from her seat and walked to the door with him. “Good. In the meantime, I need to head back over there and finish studying up on those spells.”
“If you say so.” He couldn’t resist. “…Little Miss Bookworm.” He gave her a cheeky grin.
Twilight returned it with a look of mock indignation. “Would you rather fly yourself to Canterlot tonight?”
“…I’ll shut up now.”
“That’s what I thought.”
*Sigh*…Do I really have to do this?
Capriccio hesitated as he stepped in front of the door of Carousel Boutique.
He knew what was waiting for him on the other side, and he knew that he had to go through with his apology, but his trepidation got the better of him for a brief moment.
He paused to give himself a quick once-over in the window next to the entrance. Hmmm, I look pretty damn good, if I do say so myself. It had felt glorious to finally be able to take a shower and wash away the sweat and grime he’d accumulated over the course of the day. He’d managed to tame his mane a little bit; it had gotten a little shaggy since the last time he’d had it cut, but not nearly as bad as Rarity had suggested, and he’d styled it to the point where it looked rather presentable. Plus the changing of the seasons had considerably lightened it from the usual winter light-brown color to the shining golden blonde it took on during the summer months, which he felt always made it look better. He checked his hooves; they were neatly filed and completely free of any dirt stains. His goatee, while still very much present, had been lightly trimmed to remove any unsightly frizziness.
And the tux doesn’t look half-bad, either.
He chuckled to himself; that was really an understatement. The tuxedo Rarity had made for him was immaculate. The jacket fit him to a tee, the shirt was spotless and neatly pressed, and the vest he wore matched his dark-green coat perfectly. She had even gone so far as to make him a little golden segno pin for his lapel that perfectly matched his cutie mark. His tie rested in his left pocket; he’d never learned how to tie a bowtie properly—another reason why he’d so adamantly protested wearing one—but he figured somepony could help him with that later. Apart from that, he looked like a regular sharp-dressed stallion, like somepony straight out of Gentlecolt's Quarterly.
I have to say, for all the grief she’s given me, Rarity did a fantastic job.
He sighed to himself at that thought, a pang of guilt rising within him. He’d thought about everything Twilight had said while he was getting himself ready, and it had really resonated with him. He’d come to realize that most of the arguments he’d had with Rarity over the course of the week, including the most recent one, had been just as much his doing as they were hers, and he knew he owed her as much of an apology as he felt she owed him.
Well, no time like the present, I guess.
He gave the door a push and stepped inside the boutique.
…Wow.
He froze in his tracks when he laid eyes on the five ponies gathered in the room, chatting idly with each other. Each one of them looked simply breathtaking in their individually designed gowns. Twilight’s stellar ensemble was a perfect fit for her, as was Pinkie’s confectionary creation. Fluttershy looked divine in her pastoral gown, and even Applejack and Rainbow Dash, who regularly professed to hating formal attire, were absolutely stunning in their personally themed dresses. Capriccio could only stand there, unable to keep himself from staring.
Rainbow Dash was the first to notice his arrival. “Hey, speak of the devil! Glad you finally decided to join us, Capriccio!” She grinned as she walked up to greet him, but he didn’t seem to notice her. “Helloooo?” She gave him a light knock on his skull. “Anyone home in there?”
“…Huh?” Capriccio shook himself out of his momentary trance and looked at her, still unable to completely focus.
Rainbow Dash gave him a puzzled look. “…I said, thanks for showing up.”
“Oh! Yeah, I’m…here, I guess?” He gave another shake of his head and snapped back to reality. “Sorry I’m late, I hope you weren’t waiting on me for anything.”
“Oh, it’s really no trouble at all.” Fluttershy gave him a reassuring smile. “We’re not quite ready to go just yet.”
Rainbow Dash gave him a little thump on his shoulder with her hoof. “Yeah, we were just talking about where you might be right before you walked in, that’s all.”
“Ah, I see.” Capriccio nodded in understanding.
“You’re lookin’ mighty fancy in that get-up of yours.” Applejack grinned at him from her seat.
“Thanks, AJ. You girls look…” He laughed nervously, trying to find the right words to accurately portray how incredible they looked. “Well, you look perfect! That’s the only way I can describe it. You girls look absolutely perfect.”
The girls each voiced their thanks, throwing in a few compliments on his appearance as well, and then continued to mill about the room, eagerly anticipating their departure. Capriccio was a little more restless than them; he knew the sooner they had departed, the sooner he would be done with what it was he’d resolved himself to do before he arrived. The only problem was…
“Hey, uh…where’s Rarity?” He asked, a hint of anxiety in his voice.
“I’m coming! I’m coming!” Rarity shouted from beyond her dressing room doorway. “I just have to make some last minute adjustments to my coiffure, and then we can be on our way.”
Capriccio bit his tongue, doing his best to hold back a snide remark. He knew he shouldn’t say anything, but she was making it almost too easy for him. He looked around at the others in the room, catching Twilight’s eye, and she gave him a quick “don’t you dare” look. He raised his hooves defensively. “Not saying a word,” he silently mouthed to her.
“There, all finished!” Rarity announced triumphantly as she stepped out of her dressing room.
Capriccio smirked at Twilight one more time, then turned to face where Rarity had entered the room. Finally, I can apologize to her and we can lea...oh, dear Celestia. Capriccio’s jaw nearly hit the floor as she gracefully made her way into the main room.
She looks…she looks…
“Perfect” wasn’t nearly good enough to describe it. Her gorgeous pink gown, trimmed in gold and decorated with an array of sparkling gemstones, complemented her pristine white coat exquisitely. The golden and ruby-colored studs adorning her ears made her sapphire-blue eyes shine even more brightly than usual. The tiara resting on the crown of her head was the perfect touch, giving her a divinely regal appearance. And her mane…he decided on the spot that he would never again mock her for spending so much time on it.
Capriccio stood there in stone silence, unable to think of anything to say. He felt like something had tripped a circuit in his brain, and he was desperately searching for the metaphorical fuse box. She was an absolute vision; he couldn't not stare and take in all her beauty, no matter how hard he tried.
Unbeknownst to him, though, Rarity had briefly caught him staring at her out of her periphery, but she turned her head away from him before they could lock eyes. Why is he ogling me like that? she thought to herself, a small blush appeared on her cheeks at the thought of him staring at her. She quickly suppressed it before anypony else could see; she couldn't let on that she might enjoy Capriccio presumably admiring her appearance. She was supposed to still be mad at him, anyway. The memories of the arguments they'd had still hung fresh in her mind. Why, after some of the things he said to me this week, I can't believe he'd have the nerve to stare at me like that. She huffed quietly to herself, a new flame of anger burning within her, as she strutted away from the mesmerized stallion towards the center of the group.
"Now then, is everypony all ready to depart?" Her inquiry was met with acknowledgments in the affirmative from the rest of the party. She turned to look at Twilight. "Is our transportation in order?"
Twilight nodded and smiled. “Our chariot’s waiting for us outside.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Pinkie Pie shouted, hoof raised in the air. “Let’s go!” She raced towards the door, followed by the other more reserved, but still equally excited ponies.
Except for one.
Capriccio hung back from the group just for a moment, gazing at the white unicorn who’d taken up her position at the rear of the procession making its way outside, doing his best to muster up any amount of courage he could. He had to say something to her, otherwise he'd probably spend the whole night stewing in his guilt, certainly not the way he'd want to pass the time at the Grand Galloping Gala. He had to apologize to her here, if only he had the guts to do so. Come on, Capriccio. He dug down deep, searching for the courage to approach her. It's now or never. He raised his head resolutely as he made his way toward the door.
“Hey, Rarity! Can I talk to you for a second?”
Rarity twisted her head in the direction she heard name come from. Oh no. What could he possibly want now?
She felt herself tense up as he approached. She felt she had a pretty good idea of what he wanted to "talk" about, and she sensed that there was going to be much more yelling than talking. She wanted to ignore him, sprint out the door and into the carriage where she could use her friends as a buffer zone between her and him. But that would merely postpone the argument to a later point in time, and did she really want that? Would she want the high of the best night ever tarnished by another silly fight? No it was better to get any of their grievances out right here, right now. Besides, perhaps she could defuse the situation instead of letting him rile her up again; that would make everything alright. At least, I hope so. She turned to face him directly and forced a smile, doing her best to keep her words civil. “Yes, what is it, Capriccio?" Her self-righteous anger pounded in the back of her mind, but she managed to subdue it.
“I, um…” Capriccio's mind went blank, his moxie totally abandoning him. He stumbled along with his words, trying to remember what it was he wanted to say to her, but all that he could think about was how radiant she looked. “I…wanted, um, to...to...”
"Is something the matter, dear?" Rarity was surprised; this was completely unlike him. Usually Capriccio was very quick on his hooves, but he seemed visibly shaken and at a loss for words. She'd never seen him have so much trouble trying to put a thought into words; all he could do was stutter along, shaking his head ever so lightly, his emerald eyes staring into her sapphire blues. She thought she could detect a hint of fear in his eyes, which made her begin to feel anxious. Clearly, he had no intention of insulting her in any way; he would never be afraid to do that, and he'd have no problem finding the words to do it. But since that was obviously not the goal, she was completely clueless as to what he could have to say, which only heightened her nervousness.
“I wanted to say..." Capriccio sighed, finally breaking the gaze he held on her. It was the moment of truth. How would she respond? Would she forgive him? Would she get even more angry with him, or would she laugh in his face? And would she apologize to him? He felt like she definitely owed him one as well.
But right now, it's my turn to apologize. Whether or not she wants to is up to her. He took a deep breath and locked eyes with her once again, feeling his unusually flighty mojo return for just a brief moment. Now or never.
"...I’m sorry.”
All at once he felt the tension melt away, and the words came flowing out of him like the air out of a popped balloon. “I’m sorry for arguing with you so much this past week. I know all you were doing was trying to help me, and I really should have been more grateful, especially with all the work you put in on my tuxedo. I didn’t mean to insult you like I did. I was pretty mean to you, and I apologize. I didn’t mean to start all those fights with you.”
It was Rarity's turn to be at a loss for words. She was absolutely stunned; not since they had first met had Capriccio ever apologized to her for anything he'd said, usually dismissing it as “just a joke.” And yet here he was, delivering a truly sincere apology to her.
And all over the arguments that I...
Rarity mentally slapped herself; she couldn't possibly be feeling guilty because of their fights, could she? It wasn't like she had started any of them. She replayed that day's tiff in her head again. All she'd done was ask him to not lay in the grass, and she'd merely pointed out to him how messy he looked...and told him he obviously didn't care about his appearance...and insulted him for being a Fillydelphian...
Oh my, I've been just as awful to him as he was to me. I have to apologi...
Another mental slap. She couldn't apologize to him; it was simply unthinkable. There were a lot of things Rarity disliked: dirt, the rain, the color green. But above all else, Rarity absolutely abhorred admitting that she was at fault for anything. It was just unladylike. A true mare of the upper class always adhered to the highest standards. She never did anything she was not supposed to, and therefore never had reason to apologize for anything. Admitting any sort of guilt would be a huge blow to her ego. Besides, she hadn't exactly been wrong about his appearance. He clearly taken most of the advice she'd given him earlier that afternoon. She had to admit, she was surprised by how well he cleaned up. A little attention to detail did him a world of good, and she could finally see what a handsome...
One more mental slap. She couldn't believe she was letting herself think of him like that. She chalked it up to it being a side-effect of her momentary feelings of guilt, and she did her best to shake those thoughts from her head. She wasn't attracted to him, she wasn't feeling guilty about anything, and she was not going to apologize to him.
She frowned. ...Even so, that doesn't mean I shouldn't forgive him...if I can. Rarity sighed; forgiving somepony else, while easier than apologizing, was not a simple task for her either. Seldom was she willing to let go of her resentments towards somepony else; to her a grudge was just a reminder that somepony had wronged her, and she could probably count on them to do it again at some point. Rarity wouldn't call herself a cynical mare, but she knew when to be guarded against any sort of treachery from somepony else. Why should she treat Capriccio any different? It wasn't as if today was the first time he'd ever insulted her; that had begun almost since the day they'd met, and she was sure he would do it again in the future. She stared into his eyes, the embers of her anger threatening to reignite themselves, but what she saw doused them completely; Capriccio's eyes were clouded with desperation and remorse, and they were pleading with her to forgive him, else he should lose her as a friend. Rarity's anger dissolved completely. She couldn't stand to see him so internally distraught, especially after he'd expressed his heartfelt contrition over the entire ordeal. Her earlier whispers of regret began to creep into her mind once again, but she fought them back as best as she could. She wouldn't apologize, but she simply had to let him know that he was forgiven.
She took a small step towards him, and briefly looked away, composing herself. She lifted her head with a sincere smile. "It's alright, Capriccio. I...I forgive you." The words flowed from her lips more easily than she had imagined they would. She smiled a little more brightly. It may not have been much, but it was her honest-to-goodness forgiveness.
The fear that had occupied Capriccio's eyes disappeared. He couldn't remember having felt so relieved ever before in all his life. She had forgiven him, and it was a huge weight off his shoulders. He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off.
"What do you say we forget about this whole ordeal and just enjoy our night? Besides, we don't want to keep everypony else waiting any longer, right?" Rarity chuckled half-heartedly, not so subtly shifting her way towards the door. Her positive feelings from forgiving him had begun to dull slightly, and her guilt was trying to push its way to the front of her mind with renewed fervor. She wasn't sure how long she could fight it off, but she hoped that the Gala would provide the ultimate distraction, and she wanted to get there as soon as possible.
Capriccio nodded at her and smiled. "I think that's a great idea, Rarity."
He followed her as she made her way out the door and towards the chariot, and he took his place next to Spike on the perch on the front of the carriage as she joined the other five ponies already seated inside. Spike looked up at him with an eager smile. "Are we ready to go, Capriccio?"
"You betcha, Spike. Let's hit the road!" he replied, just as eager to get going as Spike was. Caramel and Lucky, who were harnessed to the chariot, took that as their cue to set out, and before they knew it, they were on the main highway leading from Ponyville to Canterlot.
Capriccio smiled to himself as he watched the sun setting off in the west. He had been successful. He'd apologized to Rarely as earnestly as he could, and she'd given him her sincere forgiveness. That's all he'd really wanted.
Well, that...and perhaps an apology from her. He wondered why she hadn't given him one as well. He felt she owed him at least a quick one, although he certainly wasn't going to demand it from her. He figured she'd been a little caught off guard by his apology; that had been pretty obvious by the look on her face when he spoke. And she was probably really nervous about the Gala like Twilight had said earlier that day. That had to be the reason why she hadn't apologized. He could understand that; he was growing a little anxious about the night as well, wondering what might be in store for him as a composer after his music was performed.
Still, it would have been nice to hear a 'sorry.'
He sighed as he continued to watch the sun descend toward the horizon, trying to forget about everything that had happened that week. He hoped Rarity was right about the Gala being a good way to put everything behind him. A few stray fireworks from a city on the approaching mountain snapped him from his thoughts. It wouldn't be much longer now until they were in Canterlot. He straightened himself up in his seat, adjusting his outfit to make sure he looked his best. More fireworks exploded in the sky above them; these were bigger, louder and more colorful than before He heard a few "oohs" and "ahs" from the carriage below, with an occasional rogue cheer from Pinkie Pie coming every so often. It was impossible not to share in their excitement; they hadn't even arrived yet and already they were partaking in the Gala's festivities. Capriccio couldn't help but feel a little optimistic.
Who knows, maybe this will be the best night ever.
