Soul So Vibrant

“Twilight Sparkle is… an e-extraordinary mare,” she began.

No, Rarity, no. Opening up with a vagary? What a stupid thing to say. This is not an awards presentation.

She shifted the words around in her head until she landed upon something more satisfactory. “W-when I first met her, upon her first arrival to Ponyville all those years ago… I was enraptured.”

“Enraptured?”

“I… guess. Perhaps that was too strong a word? I don’t know. All I know is that I was drawn to her. She hailed from the city that I had always dreamed of moving to someday. She carried herself with the practiced grace of our capital’s finest.”

“A born-and-raised Canterlotian, then?” he said thoughtfully. “Was that what made you pursue her?”

“Oh, heavens, no,” Rarity said, chuckling. “Gravitate to her, perhaps? I couldn’t say.I think, back then, I was more drawn to the idea of who she was, rather than the reality of it. A Canterlot mare! The personal student of Princess Celestia herself! But to be honest, I didn’t know what to make of her when I first met her.”

“What was the reality of it, then?”

“Well…” Rarity tapped a hoof to her chin. “She had some unmistakeable Canterlotian mannerisms and that classic high society temperament. And yet… she was nothing like what I expected one to be like. Socially-awkward, a bona-fide nerd, obsessed with learning… She gave only the bare minimum attention to her own appearance—at least for a mare of her standing—and even less care to maintaining social graces with the Canterlot elite. it took a few days for me to really come to terms with how she actually was. And she was absolutely nothing like what I would have expected, or wanted.”

“But you were still drawn to her, somehow.”

“Somehow.”

“Perhaps you were infatuated with her nonetheless?”

“Perhaps.” Rarity shrugged. “Before then, it simply didn’t dawn on me that being in love with her could possibly be a thing. After all, she wasn’t my soulmate. I didn’t gain the gift of color-sight when I met her. How could it possibly be the case that I loved her? I never even entertained the thought.”

“Hm.” Tinder leaned back thoughtfully. “Something changed that, clearly.”

“Oh yes,” Rarity nodded, her mind wandering to a memory that felt ages old, yet still as sharp as yesterday. “That ‘something’ was the moment she asked me out.”

Tinder raised an eyebrow. “So she was the one to pop the question?”

“And how,” said Rarity with a grin. “It was quite the dashing display. She was so nervous, the poor thing. Sweating bullets. But goodness, she came prepared.”

“Prepared?”

“Oh yes, she came prepared with a capital P.” Rarity suppressed a giggle. “The thing about Twilight Sparkle is that she is nothing if not a scientist. And she absolutely refuses to commit to any life-changing decisions unless she’s constructed a comprehensive case to back it up.”

“Oh boy, I’m starting to see where this is going,” he said with a warning chuckle.

“Are you? Goodness, even I can scarcely comprehend it, and it happened to me. Mister Tinder, my dear man, would you believe that mare literally came with a seventy-page dissertation on why I should abandon my entire worldview revolving around soulmates so that I can free myself to, ahem… ‘seek love beyond the superficial realms of color-sight’?”

“Sev…” He blinked, holding his hooves to his temples. “Seventy?”

“Not counting appendix, a glossary of terms, and a comprehensive list of citations.”

“You’re… you’re joking.”

“Hah, I was wondering if she were joking, and it took me gaping through a full two minutes of her opening statement to realize she wasn’t.”

“She started presenting her dissertation?!”

“Oh yes. Right on my front doorstep!”

“No.”

“There I was, at something like half-past nine in the evening, standing in my bathrobe and smallclothes, in fifty-degree weather, and watching in abject disbelief as the most powerful mage in Equestria began citing historical statistics on some of ponykind’s most prominent non-color-sighted marriages.”

“That’s… that’s incredible.”

“‘Incredible’ was the least of it. I was… well, I was rather appalled, to say the least.”

“Appalled? At what?”

“At how sudden it was!” Rarity wrung her hooves as she tried to articulate her frustrations. “You don’t just— you don’t suddenly dump all of your romantic emotional baggage on a mare, you know! There’s a process! A practiced methodology! You express interest, casually ask them out on a date, and then see where things go from there! You don’t completely upend the foundations upon which their entire reality is constructed!

“But no,” she continued, rambling like a mare gone mad. “No, that wasn’t enough for her. Miss Twilight ‘Let’s Science The Living Daylights Out of Princess Celestia Herself’ Sparkle apparently felt it necessary to try and earn her sun-forsaken Doctorate in the Courtship of Rarity!”

Rarity’s head fumed, the outrage burning up in her skull. “Goodness, that mare can be so… so… so oblivious sometimes!” Rarity smacked her forehead with a hoof, then slapped it against the table, causing their mugs to rattle. “And you know what the worst part of it is?!”

Wary of Rarity’s sudden outburst, Tinder echoed her question with caution. “Er, w-what’s the worst part?”

“The worst part,” she declared, with all the dark bombast of an angry god hammering a nail into the coffin of all life in the universe, “is that I. Said. Yes.”

Her words settled, leaving Tinder stunned, and her breathing like she had run a marathon.

“She hadn’t gone another three minutes until I had finally had enough,” Rarity said softly. “Sleep-deprived, exhausted, and freezing down to my knickers, I put a halt to her ridiculous tirade and asked her where she was going with all of this. And that was when she finally, finally popped the question.”

“R-Rarity of Ponyville,” Twilight Sparkle had squeaked, her nervous, girlish singsong echoing through Rarity’s memories, “will you go out on a d-date with me?”

“And I accepted.”

A few moments passed as Rarity’s emotions settled down. For the better. It was unlike Rariry to have an emotional—

Oh, who am I kidding. It’s absolutely, completely like me to have an emotional outburst.

Apparently, Twilight finds my melodrama endearing, for whatever reason.

“…Why?” asked Tinder, breaking Rarity from her reverie.

“Why what?” asked Rarity, some semblance of normalcy returning to her voice.

“Why did you end up saying yes, if her obsessive antics had driven you to such a point, if your belief in soulmates was so set in stone?”

“Because…” Rarity jawed for a moment, unsure of how to articulate her reasoning, before settling on her next few words. “Because she was living proof that she was right.”

“Living… proof?”

“When I first met Twilight Sparkle, I did not gain the gift of color-sight. Neither did she.” Rarity shook her head in second-hand disbelief. “And yet, here she was, running herself ragged over the span of a month, over the belief that I was the mare for her. No matter how I looked at it, no matter how true it was that we weren’t soulmates, I couldn’t deny for even a second that she was madly, hopelessly in love with me.”

“And that’s what made you love her back?” Tinder asked.

“No, my dear,” said Rarity, shaking her head. “It’s what made me believe that I could love her back. That it was, indeed, possible for a pony to truly fall in love with another, even beyond the realm of color-sight.”

“I… I see.”

The silence that followed Rarity’s revelation was… telling. Tinder blinked, then stared off into the distance, lost in thought.

Rarity did the same. She gazed past the thatchwood rooftops of Ponyville’s homes, in the general direction of Carousel Boutique, and silently wondered where Twilight Sparkle was, or what she was doing.

“I knew that I at least had great affection for Twilight Sparkle,” Rarity continued. “But I had always assumed them to merely be the bonds of friendship. But she has a way of convincing you about… things.”

“She must be quite charismatic, then,” surmised Tinder.

“She’s about as charismatic as a beat-up thaumatology textbook,” Rarity snarked. “But about as brilliant as one too. Twilight is easily the smartest mare I know. Probably smarter than both of the Princesses combined.”

“That’s…” Tinder blinked. “That’s quite an assertion.”

“I mean, she’s by no means flawless,” Rarity quickly corrected herself. “She has been wrong on more than one occasion. But… with this? She spoke with such conviction that it was hard to not at least consider what she was saying. So I figured, why not give it a whirl? It couldn’t hurt to at least give it that good ol’ college try.”

“And, perhaps, you’d be able to sort out your feelings for her along the way?” asked Tinder.

“Something to that effect, yes,” Rarity said. “And… I admit, I was curious how real Twilight’s feelings were for me. If they were indeed love, or if they were just… admiration?” She shrugged. “Or, I don’t know. Lust.”

“Right. Definitely a possibility.” Tinder coughed. “But I’m… honestly surprised. That must have taken a lot of willpower, to set down those life-long principles.”

“It didn’t come without a fight, though,” Rarity admitted. “Even in that moment when I said yes, I wasn’t completely onboard. I doubted her, and myself, at every turn.”

“But you must have dealt with it somehow, no?” asked Tinder. “You couldn’t possibly have lasted over the last two years with all these doubts.”

“No, we couldn’t.” Rarity sighed wistfully. “Those first few months were filled with an enduring sense of passion and discovery. But every now and then, I would be struck with the intense desire to ask her, ‘why me?’ I would ask her why she fell in love with me, why she believed so strongly that things would work between us, despite the fact that we weren’t soulmates.”

Tinder frowned. Harshly. “That’s… an incredibly fragile cycle, Rarity. You know how self-sabotaging that kind of doubt can be to a relationship, right?”

Rarity sighed. “I know. Goodness, I was such a high-maintenance girlfriend. How Twilight put up with me for so long during those opening weeks of our relationship… completely beyond me.”

“But she did?” Tinder asked.

“Somehow… she did.” Rarity’s voice became wistful. “Every time I asked the question, she, without fail, did everything in her power to reassure me. To remind me that I was enchanting, that I was imaginative, that I was delightful, that I was sexy. And this little volley of reassurances often ended with us whispering stupid nothings into each others’ ears for a time, and… well, oftentimes a little more than that.”

“I mean, I could keep waxing philosophical about why I love you so much,” came Twilight’s voice again, its delicate wind-chimes slowly giving way to a low and sultry growl. “But maybe it’ll be easier just to show you.”

Rarity coughed, feeling her cheeks flush as she tip-toed around the edges of her private life with a stallion she barely knew.

But the only indication that it had affected Tinder was the light blush on his cheeks, which he deftly made no acknowledgement of. “Was that enough for you two, in the end?”

“It was enough for us to go right back to our day-to-day, at the very least,” Rarity said. “Just enough for us to maintain the flawless image of Ponyville’s newest darling couple.”

“There was no way she didn’t know,” Tinder said.

“She wouldn’t be my Twilight Sparkle if she didn’t,” Rarity agreed with a dry laugh. “She is not a stupid mare. She knew just as well as I did, despite our adamant refusal to admit it, what those questions were: a manifestation of my self-doubt, of my regret, of my fear that I had made the wrong decision by accepting her proposal, and that I was leading us to heartbreak.”

“I can’t imagine that was easy for her,” Tinder said. “Did she ever act on that knowledge?”

Rarity closed her eyes, searching through her thoughts. There was a memory that had been nagging at her throughout this entire conversation.

“I… can’t say for certain,” she began, slowly. “But one morning, perhaps a month in, she did give me an answer that caught me off-guard. And she gave it in that infuriating, bull-headed, lecturing tone that made her sound less like a lover trying to reassure their beloved, and more like a teacher trying to explain something obscenely simple to a child.”

Tinder blinked, then appeared to brace himself for Rarity’s answer.

“She told me that, just because I might not find my soulmate, it didn’t mean I couldn’t at least find happiness. That even if I never met my one in sixteen-thousand, I still deserved to feel important, to feel cherished, to feel loved. And damn to Tartarus anything that fate had to say about it.”

Tinder’s eyes widened. He blinked once. He blinked again.

“That’s…” he began, and ended it just as simply: “Wow.”

“…Yeah.”

She stopped thinking about how shefelt about me… and started thinking about how I felt.

A few moments of silence passed between them as they both mulled over Twilight’s answer.

“Do you still feel that desire, Rarity?” asked Tinder. “To ask Twilight that question?”

Deep in her gut, Rarity knew how badly she wanted to lie. But something about the stallion made it feel so very wrong to give into that temptation. “Occasionally.”

He raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Just ‘occasionally’?”

“Okay fine, often,” she said, this time with stubborn finality. “I think about it often.”

He flinched. “You don’t… still actually ask her, do you?”

“Not… exactly,” she said carefully. “I’ve… learned to phrase it in different ways..”

He raised an eyebrow. “Like?”

“Like… like, ‘what did I do to deserve you’… and whatnot.”

He snorted, causing Rarity to toss him a glare. “Rarity, that’s not just different, that’s downright cheesy. I’d hardly consider that the same thing.”

“N-no, I suppose not,” Rarity muttered. “But if I had to be honest… I think it’s just my way of avoiding the question I still feel so tempted to ask.”

Tinder gave her a meaningful stare, then leaned back with a heavy sigh. “I can’t imagine this,” he said, gesturing with his forearms again, “has made it any easier, has it.”

“No, Mister Tinder,” Rarity said darkly. “No it hasn’t.”

A grave silence settled over their table. And in the silence, Rarity was left to finally face just how big a shadow that the revelation of her soulmate was casting. Upon her life. Upon her relationship with Twilight. Upon everything they’d built up over the last two years.

“Rarity,” said Tinder suddenly, causing her to glance at him. “I have to admit, I haven’t been entirely forthcoming with you. And… I feel the need to clarify something.”

“Clarify…?” Rarity blinked in confusion. “Clarify what?”

“You… asked me if I believed in soulmates,” he explained, picking his words with great caution. “And I do. One-hundred percent. Whatever it is that made that judgment—be it magic, or the universe, or even the sun-forsaken flying spaghetti monster—it knows, somehow, that you and I are perfect for each other. It knows that, if we were to pursue a relationship together, that we would be happy together. And, so long as I didn’t get struck by a carriage this afternoon, or a meteor doesn’t crash into Equestria, we could grow old together, and not once would we feel like we made the wrong choice. Guaranteed.”

Rarity shuddered. But she silently nodded.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You agree?”

“…Yes,” she said. “Yes I do.”

“Okay.” He took a breath. “So then let me ask you this, Rarity. If the universe were so sure, so absolutely damn certain that we were made for each other… then why are we still given a choice?”

She blinked, then stared at him. “What?”

“We have the option to choose, Rarity,” he said. “If I were to decide that I didn’t want to pursue you after all, I could. In fact, I could just douse you in my scalding coffee, walk away from this table, and refuse to ever speak to you again.”

Rarity blanched at him. “…You don’t actually intend to do that, do you?”

“No,” he declared immediately.

Rarity huffed. “Then why does it matter?”

“Because I still can, Rarity. Even if it’s completely out of line with my own wishes, even if it’s something I don’t want, it’s still something I can choose to do. I could still choose to say no to you, Rarity.”

“Tinder, I still don’t understand. If you want it so bad, then what could possibly drive you to say no?”

“The fact that I’m not the only one with a choice.”

At once, Rarity’s thoughts ground to a halt.

“The way I see it, Rarity,” explained Tinder, “you yourself made a choice a long time ago. A choice that spat in the face of destiny. Even if it was unsteady at the start, you were slowly but surely convinced that you could find happiness and love on your own, regardless of what the universe had to say about it. And even if it hasn’t been the steadiest foundation, you’ve built your entire relationship on that one choice you made two years ago. A choice that, whether you realize it or not, you’ve been making again and again, every day, every minute, every single second that you’ve remained with Twilight Sparkle.”

“But… Tinder,” Rarity said, nearly whimpering. “You speak so grandly of the virtue of having a choice, but it still doesn’t… Why would any of that matter if I’ve made the wrong one?”

“What makes you so sure it was the wrong choice?”

She blinked at him. “Why… what else? You!” She gestured wildly at Tinder. “The very fact that you exist, the fact that I can see color, the fact that we are soulmates, and the fact that I can’t honestly think of anything about you that makes me averse to the idea of a pursuing a romance with you! All of this is a testament to the fact that you are the perfect—”

“Just because I am the perfect choice doesn’t mean I am the only choice.”

Her mouth locked up. A pain began to well up in her throat as the words withered on her tongue.

“Rarity, I am flattered that you think so highly of me. And believe me, those feelings are certainly mutual, and I would want nothing more than to try a relationship with you, safe under the assurance that our relationship might as well be ordained by divine mandate to work out.

“But just because this path comes with the guarantee of success, does not mean that it is the only path to success. There are other paths that you can choose aside from me, and even if they come with a risk of failure, it doesn’t mean that they are guaranteed to fail.”

Tinder leaned in, placing both of his hooves on Rarity’s shoulders.

“You have invested so much of yourself, both emotionally and romantically, into this mare. You’ve spent the last two years with her. No doubt you two have had experiences that are irreplaceable in both of your minds. None of that is a lie. It is clear that everything you’d shared with her up to this point is incredibly important to you. I can say this for a fact. Do you know why?”

“…Why?” asked Rarity.

“Because you,” he put a hoof on her chest, “are in pain.”

…She was.

Everything hurt. Her entire world had been turned upside down. She had never felt more miserable than she did right now. The ache in her heart was only barely kept in check by whatever self-control she could muster.

Quietly, she nodded.

“And do you know why you’re in pain, Rarity?”

“Because…” She sniffed. “Because Twilight Sparkle isn’t my soulmate.”

“Right. Now ask yourself why that revelation hurts so much.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she said. “Because it would destroy her. Her heart would be utterly broken. The thought of telling her… of doing that to her… it’s indescribable.”

“Maybe that’s part of it,” Tinder said. “But you can’t honestly believe that empathy is the only reason why. Why else does it hurt, Rarity?”

“I… I don’t know,” Rarity whimpered.

“Then think. Try and figure it out. You won’t be ready to make your next choice until you understand why you are in pain.”

“But how? How am I supposed to understand it, Tinder?”

“Stop thinking selflessly. Stop thinking about her feelings. This is not about her pain. This is about yours.”

Rarity clenched her eyes. She let the pain well up in her heart. But she faced it. She faced her pain. She faced all the reasons why she was terrified.

She was terrified of breaking Twilight’s heart. She was terrified that everything she had done in the last two years was all for nothing. She was terrified that everything they had built up together was meaningless. She was terrified that she had made the wrong choice.

Why did all of that scare her so much? Why did it all hurt so much?

Because all of it meant, in the end, that she would lose Twilight.

She would lose Twilight Sparkle.

She was terrified of losing Twilight Sparkle.

Rarity’s eyes widened, a chill running down her spine. And her head slowly rose, so that she could meet Tinder’s eyes.

“Why would you be in so much pain…” said Tinder, a cold edge to his drained voice, “…if you had never loved her back?”

It was so obvious.

“I loved her back,” she echoed, her voice quiet. She stared at her hooves.

“The entire time,” he said. Slowly, he lifted his hooves from her shoulders and leaned away. “And the only thing stopping you from recognizing that you loved her back… was the fear that you couldn’t.”

The pain in her heart began to fade. It was still there—a dull ache, a pressure against her ribs—but now it made sense. And that understanding numbed her to it.

“Your soulmate may be your destiny,” Tinder said, “but your destiny doesn’t have to be your future. It’s just the path of least resistance. The path of least risk. And there is always another way. Even if you have to fight for it. Even if it’s riskier. Even if you have to invest more of yourself in it. You need to believe that, Rarity. You need to let go of your doubt that anything about what you’re doing is wrong.”

She blinked. She blinked again. She blinked away the tears. Her vision came into focus once more.

“Your self-doubt is holding your feelings hostage. And you cannot let the revelation of your soulmate do the same. You need to sort out your feelings, figure out what this mare truly means to you, and make a decision based on that. And no matter where that decision falls, you can’t forget that love is never a lie, even if it isn’t permanent. Those memories, that happiness, the love that you had for Twilight Sparkle… all of that was real, and it will never be meaningless. No matter what you choose to do in the end.

“But that’s a decision you need to make for yourself, when you think you’re good and ready. You need to weigh the risks, and figure out whether it’s worth it to invest in them or not. Because you cannot move forward until you do.”

Rarity nodded. She held a hoof to her chest, feeling the pressure abating. She nodded again.

“After all, you’re a businessmare. So I’m sure you know everything there is to know about risk and investment.”

She froze. Slowly, she craned her head towards the stallion. Their eyes met.

“…What.”

He blinked. “…What? It was an analogy.”

“It…” she began, trying to word her observation with care, but failing. “It wasn’t a very good one.”

“I— I know, alright?!” he waved a hoof in embarrassment. “I just… I was just trying to be, you know, relatable. Or… something you know what never mind.”

Rarity’s hoof rose to her mouth. And for the first time in a good long while… she laughed.

And as she laughed—and as he did too—the pain had faded to a distant ache.

“T-thank you, Mister Tinder,” she said as her laughter dying down, leaving only a smile in its wake, a smile far more relaxed than she had been only minutes ago. “Thank you for that. I think I needed that laugh.”

“Well, I uh… you’re welcome, I guess. Even if it wasn’t intentional.” He leaned back, chuckling.

Rarity did the same. And she freed a portion of her mind to compartmentalize all of the revelations that she had experienced that day. “Goodness.”

“Hm?” Tinder turned, moments away from another sip of his still-unfinished coffee.

Rarity smiled. It was a sad, exhausted little smile. “So much has happened today to change my life. And it’s not even noon yet.”

“Heh. That’s right.” He glanced at a clock hanging just above the door to the inside of the cafe. “You still have the rest of the day ahead of you, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.” She glanced at the golden sun, at its position in the sky. She watched as the clouds lazily made their way across the endless azure ocean. “And I guess… I have some thinking to do, don’t I.”

He nodded. “Yeah. And a very big decision to make.”

“Yes… I suppose I do.” Rarity sighed.

The decision to pursue her soulmate. Or the decision to stay the course.

“Do you… have an inkling of where that decision might land?” asked Tinder.

“I…”

Rarity hesitated. Was she certain? Everything had happened so quickly, and she still needed to sort through her thoughts.

“No. Not yet. I still have so much to think about.” Rarity stared down at her hooves. “I’m sorry, Tinder.”

He raised an eyebrow. “For?”

“For… not being able to give you an answer,” Rarity breathed. “And for leaving you in the dust without one. You’ve… we’ve made the odds. The one-in-twelve-thousand chance for us to have our happily-ever-after. And yet, despite all that… you can’t get it. All because I don’t know if I can give it to you.”

“Rarity, that’s not your fault,” Tinder assured her. “You had made a choice based on the overwhelming likelihood that we would never meet. No one can blame you for that. And no one, least of all me, should expect you to abandon that choice on a drop of a hat, just to entertain the whimsy of destiny. I couldn’t do that to you, Rarity. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Rarity’s heart filled with warmth. He really, truly, was a wonderful stallion. And, for so many reasons and more, she felt like she understood exactly why the universe had chosen him to be her soulmate. She could scarcely think of a better candidate.

“…Thank you, Tinder. Thank you for understanding. And… for everything else. Your counsel has been… illuminating. I don’t think I could have worked through this on my own.”

“Of course. Anything for my ‘soulmate’.”

She giggled at that. He did too.

“Oh, goodness. Tinder, I… I must admit. You have been an absolute delight. I think you are a very fine stallion. And any filly who knows what’s good for them would recognize that they are very lucky to have you.”

“Or colt,” he gently corrected her.

“Or colt.” Rarity chuckled. “And, if it’s any solace, I will try to make my decision quickly. I couldn’t very well return your kindness throughout these last few hours with the prospect of having to wait too long for my answer.”

He softly shook his head. “No, Rarity. Regardless of what I’ve done for you today, this is a decision you cannot rush. You need to make your move only once you have all the pieces necessary to do so.”

He sat up straight again, leaning forward.

“And to that end, there’s something very urgent you need to take care of, right now. An important mare is waiting at home for you. One whom you need to have a very important conversation with as soon as possible.”

…He was right.

While Rarity had been out here, getting her shopping done, retrieving her coffee fix, and having her entire reality shattered—and promptly rebuilt—within the span of a single morning… Twilight Sparkle had been at home, oblivious to it all.

More than anypony else, she needed to know what happened today. And even if the revelation resulted in a painful consequence… Rarity knew she couldn’t let Twilight wait another moment for her to finally resolve her doubt.

Rarity stood up, fished out the bits for her coffee from her saddlebag, and turned to him, holding out her hoof. “Tinder… more than I can ever describe, it has been an absolute pleasure.”

He himself stood, clasping her hoof to meet the gesture… only to be suddenly drawn into a tight embrace as she threw her arms tightly around his neck.

Tinder’s eyes widened in shock. But slowly, and surely, he acclimated to the hug, his own arms coming to return the gesture.

Rarity stayed like that for a while, in Tinder’s arms. As uncertain as it had been to start, his embrace was warm—gentle, but firm. And in it, Rarity felt more stable, more sturdy, than she had felt all morning. She basked in the warmth of the hug, letting it empower her, drawing from it the strength that she needed to face the trials of the day still as of yet to come.

“Thank you, Tinder,” she whispered. “For everything.”

She let go of him, and they stepped back. The shock had long disappeared from his face, having given way to the warmest, most loving smile she had seen since meeting him.

“And… thank you, Rarity, for much the same,” he replied in turn. “Regardless of how things turn out, I hope this will mean the start of a very long friendship.”

She smiled. It was a big, genuine, happy smile. “Nothing would please me more, Tinder. In fact, would you…”

She paused.

Is this a good idea? …Bah. To Tartarus with it all.

“…Would you still like to swing by my shop today? It might be opening late, but… if the sign is flipped to ‘open’ at any time past noon, you’re more than welcome to just trot right on in. I would very much like to show you around, and… perhaps introduce you to the rest of the household.”

And Twilight.

“I…” He pondered for a second. “The smart part of me is saying that’s probably not a very good idea.”

Rarity raised an eyebrow. “And the not-so-smart part of you?”

A lazy smile. “Would love to take you up on your offer.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Rarity, playfully tapping his muzzle before turning towards the street to make her leave.

Of course… she hesitated. How did one even say farewell to somepony who had changed her life forever?

With only a moment’s pause, she turned to face him.

“Ta for now, Mister Tinder Hooves of Tall Tale.”

“Until next we meet, Miss Rarity of Ponyville,” he replied, with a goodbye wave of his hoof. “And good luck.”

Rarity smiled. And with a flick of her brilliant, violet tail… she was gone.