Chapters All at once, something changed .
At first, Rarity couldn’t put quite place her hoof on what . The world had just, quite unexpectedly, taken on a completely different quality. Everything was more distinct, and Rarity could not for the life of her find the words to describe it.
What exactly was this strange… shimmering ? To literally everything ?
The mare’s gaze swept across the open Ponyville Market, darting to and fro at every object, every passing pony, every blade of grass, as she scanned the world around her—the world that had completely changed, and yet somehow seemed exactly the same.
…It was beautiful .
“W-what…”
At the sound of her own voice, she blinked, and warmth began to flood her face as she suddenly remembered: she had been talking to somepony .
“Oh dear me, I’m so terribly sorry!” she said quickly, turning to face the merchant stallion in front of her—who himself looked awfully scintillating , just like everything else. “Something quite, er, odd crossed my sight, and I confess it caused me but a moment’s pause—”
She blinked again.
The stallion was staring at her. Gaping at her. Like he had seen a ghost.
Had she not been doing the same thing just moments ago, she might have slapped him for gawking.
Instead, she took a cautious step forward, curious of his current state. “Beg pardon, sir merchant?” she asked the stallion with a gentle tilt of her head. “Is something the matter?”
“…I, ah, whoa ,” he uttered, stepping back in shock. “Sorry, I just… your mane . Every time it bounces, it… it’s like… what the hay?” He gulped again. “It’s like everything just…”
“…Changed?” Rarity finished his sentence for him, now almost certain that he had noticed the same thing she had.
“Y-yeah,” he continued, nodding. “You see it too?”
“I… I do,” she replies.
“I don’t… I don’t even know how to describe it,” he said, staring at his surroundings in awe. “It’s almost like everything has this extra quality to it that I can’t… It’s like, shimmery .”
“I’m not sure if ‘shimmery’ is the word I’d use,” Rarity said, tapping a hoof to her chin. “Perhaps… ‘effervescent’?”
“Maybe ‘vibrant’.”
“‘Vibrant’,” she said slowly, tonguing each syllable. “Yes, vibrant… almost as if…”
“As if the world was suddenly… full of…”
She froze—dead cold—and watched as the color drained from the stallion’s face.
The color .
“No…” he started.
“Oh… oh my Stars,” she whispered in awe. “We can see it.”
“Color ,” he said, breathlessly.
“How— how is this possible?” asked Rarity, baffled. “It can’t be that… that…”
“That we’ve met our soulmate?” he finished. His eyes locked onto hers, blinking with a strange expression.
Oh. Oh my.
“Then d-does this mean,” she stuttered, stumbled over her words, in abject disbelief that the moment had finally come, that the thing she had dreamed of all her childhood were finally true, “that you are my s-soulmate?”
“I…” He uttered, before falling silent. “I think so.”
…Incredible.
What did this mean? Rarity couldn’t fathom the consequences, the implications .
For years, she had been besieged by stories, and books, and plays, and poems, and songs, of ponies that had discovered their soulmate. For years, she had become enraptured with the prospect that one day she herself would find true love, that she would discover a side of the world that had been so cruelly deprived from her since the moment she was born.
She had wanted to see. She had wanted to know. She had wanted to feel what it was like to live in a world filled with color and love.
And now she could .
By the stars, this had to be the most momentous occasion in all of her life! The entire world had changed!
And yet, somehow, it hadn’t. In fact, it was as if it had the gall to simply continue existing without ceremony! Everywhere Rarity looked, ponies went on about their business in the Ponyville Market, exchanging wares and trivial conversation like absolutely nothing was out of place.
How could that be? How could it go so tragically ignored that everypony, everything, everyone , had at once become so vibrant, so lush, so staggeringly beautiful ?
It was breathtaking.
Suddenly the possibilities were sprawling before her eyes. Already the colors and hues of the world were beginning to form connections in her head, overriding years and years ’ worth of monochromaticity, of her entire visual spectrum being dominated by scales of gray and grey.
Oh she couldn’t wait to go home to her boutique, to rifle through all of her designs and see how she could use this newfound vision to reimagine every dress, every line, every season. She couldn’t wait to see how the colors of every stitch could complement the vibrant coat pigments of all the ponies before her.
Everything old was new again, and it was magical, so magical, magical beyond comprehension! Oh she couldn’t wait to tell Twilight Sparkle what had happened. No doubt she would be exhilarated by the news that Rarity had finally met her—
…Her soulmate.
Rarity had met her soulmate .
And… it wasn’t her girlfriend of two years.
It wasn’t her beloved Twilight Sparkle.
“No…”
As if struck, Rarity took a sudden step back. And another. One. Two. Clip. Clop. Soft, delicate strikes against the cobblestone streets of the Ponyville Market.
The stallion, himself in a reverie, was shaken from her sudden movement. “Miss…? Is everything—”
“What?” she exclaimed in shock. “W-what, I— ah !”
Her rear hooves intertwined and she was sent straight to the ground, landing on her rear with an unceremonious fwomp .
Dizzy from the fall, she simply sat there, reeling as her mind attempted to catch up to her circumstances, to the gravity of her situation, to the truth that had so suddenly dawned on her, the ultimate truth, the impossible truth.
Twilight Sparkle was not her soulmate.
“Miss! Miss, are you alright?”
The voice broke through her trance. She slowly stared up at the stallion, meeting his eyes—his shimmering, concerned, startled eyes.
The eyes of her soulmate.
“I…” Rarity uttered, nearly choking on her words. “I… I don’t know.”
“Here. Take my hoof.”
He extended it before her eyes.
She blinked at them.
They were a vibrant, earthy color. She couldn’t name it. It matched the pale tones of the cobblestone streets underneath her hooves. What color was that? Red? Green? Orange? Brown? Pink?
What color was anything ?
She took it. And slowly, but with a hardy strength, he lifted her to her hooves.
“T-thank you,” she stammered, unsure of what else to say. Her mind refocused itself, shutting everything else out, in her attempt to focus on the conversation, on speech, on speaking, with her newly-discovered soulmate .
“Will you be a-alright?” he asked, his own voice a little shaky, his own eyes barely focused, his pupils dilating rapidly in what could only be described as confused shock.
“I think,” Rarity began, slowly working out—among the sudden raging storm of all of the things she knew she needed to do—what needed to be done right now .
“I think… I need to sit down. And just soak all of this in.”
“Yes,” he agreed numbly. “Same. Somewhere quiet. A cafe. With a coffee. A really strong coffee. And figure out… what this means.”
‘For us’, came the words—unspoken, but implicit—to both of their minds.
“Coffee. Yes. That sounds grand.” She nodded, rapidly coming to agreement with his suggestion. “Shall we—”
She froze, the rest of her sentence dying on her tongue.
He noticed, and raised an eyebrow at her. “Pardon…?”
She had nearly invited him to coffee without thinking.
She didn’t even know the stallion. Didn’t know him at all. Not his name, nor his origins, not a single shred of his life.
But for whatever reason, the universe had conspired to make him her soulmate.
If anyone could best help her figure out what this meant—for her, for him, for the world, for everything —it was him. He was the only one who could.
So she mustered up her nerves and said it.
“Shall we… go together, then?”
~ ⚫ ~
Brown.
Very dark brown, the waiter had said, when Rarity asked him if there had been some kind of mistake with her order, when she asked why her coffee wasn't ’black’ like she had always taken it.
“Coffee is brown,” he had said, matter-of-factly. “It has always been brown. Even when you take it black.”
The prim stallion spoke with the well-practiced authority of someone who had possessed the gift of color-sight for a very long time, and Rarity found no reason to contest his assertion.
And yet, Rarity couldn’t help but be amazed that, in all of her years of drinking coffee, the fact that even the blackest coffee was brown had somehow eluded her.
How many things like that existed in her life? How many things had she once assigned a color, but was completely wrong? How much of her imagined expectations would have to be completely shattered to make room for the reality of her the world around her, a world so new, yet had always been?
No doubt she’d be seeking the assistance of a Palette Master in due time. She knew a few that resided in town, but out of all the color-sighted ponies, Palette Masters—those who had dedicated their gifts to studying the mysteries of color—were the most rare out of all color-sighted ponies.
And color-sighted ponies themselves—like their moderately-aged waiter—were rather uncommon. Not exactly rare , but by no means in abundance either. As was only natural. Out of the hundreds of thousands of ponies in the continental territories of Equestria, the odds of one running into their soul mate were quite low.
“One in twelve thousand,” echoed the voice of Twilight Sparkle in her mind, on one of many occasions where Rarity had needed convincing that it wouldn’t likely happen in her lifetime.
But it had.
And that thought—the thought of her beloved, of her name, of her rosy voice, as delicate as fine china, of her face, of those wide, earnest eyes—brought forth an ache in Rarity’s heart that struck like a lightning bolt and sent her mind reeling.
“One in twelve thousand.”
How…? How could this have happened?
“Beg pardon?”
“Hm?” Rarity looked up at the stallion, who had taken his seat across from her. He himself had a steaming cup of coffee before him.
He tilted his head, blinking. “You muttered something, but trailed off. ‘One in something’…?”
“Oh.” Had she said that aloud? She cleared her throat, but even that couldn’t prevent her voice from trembling. “O-one in twelve thousand.”
“Ah, right.” A thoughtful glance at his coffee. “The odds. Of course.”
“O-of course, the odds rise as you grow older,” she stammered, almost without thinking, merely citing factoids that had been passed onto her by… by…
Don’t. Not her name. Not right now. You need to sort everything else out, first.
“T-those in their late twenties will have nearly double the chance,” she continued lecturing in a practiced tone, itself a mockery of the mare that inspired it. “And double again for those in their late thirties. …Or so I’ve heard,” she finished lamely.
“Well then,” he said—hesitantly, cautiously, like he knew his words could be trotting on something fragile. “We must be very lucky ponies.”
“Yes, I suppose we are, aren’t we, Mister…?”
It only just occurred to Rarity that she hadn’t yet gotten his name.
“Tinder Hooves,” he said quickly, as if on impulse. “A-and yours?”
“Rarity,” she replied. “Just Rarity, if you please. No compound name.”
“Ah.” He blinked, then smiled. “Single names are quite the discovery. I wonder what the odds are for those?”
“Not quite as high, I’m told,” Rarity said, struggling to remember the figure off the top of her head from one of Twi— from a trivia session with her friends. “I believe it was… one in forty?”
“Still quite the rarity,” he noted. And the color instantly drained from his face—what a remarkable phenomenon. “…Ah, no pun intended.”
Rarity blinked at the stallion. Then, unexpectedly, to both of them… she chuckled.
It was a delicate titter—light… but genuine. And it was matched, albeit nervously, by the stallion across from her.
She didn’t expect to be laughing right now. But she simply couldn’t help it! Despite all circumstances, the stallion was perfectly charming.
And quite dashing, to boot. Tinder’s colors were soft, inoffensive, earthy tones, and his moderately-ruffled mane gave him a sort of rugged look that she had to admit was quite handsome.
If this were her soulmate, she could certainly do much worse.
But hadn’t she already done much better…?
NO. Not right now.
“I really need to find out what color your mane is,” Tinder suddenly said, distracting her from her thoughts. Her eyes snapped to his, and she noticed his gaze tracing the intricate curls of her well-groomed mane. “It’s quite a lush shade of…”
“Purple,” she supplied for him. “More specifically, a ‘rich, dark violet’, if you were to listen to my hospital’s Palette Master tell it upon my birth.”
“Purple.” He tongued the word. “It’s a very… regal color, I must say. It looks very good on you.”
She felt her face flush. “You are too kind, Tinder.”
In truth, the lushness of her mane colors had shocked her when she had first seen them. But it took mere moments of acclimation for her to find that she was very much growing fond of its luscious hue.
The striking eyes of an excited mare leapt to the forefront of her consciousness.
“Mulberry!” her voice came, unbidden into her mind, an echo from a time nearly before recollection. “My coat is mulberry! Similar to purple, actually! We could be matching, Rarity!”
Brilliant, earnest eyes. A bright, excited grin. Rarity couldn’t help but idly wonder what colors adorned her coat and mane.
Not. Right. NOW.
“And what are your colors?” she asked, seizing the opportunity to distance her mind, and perhaps expand on her color vocabulary association a bit more.
“‘A coat of yellow, pale as a fresh daisy in spring,’” Tinder recited, apparently from memory, “‘and a mane as blue as a bright summer sky.’”
Rarity cracked a smile. “Fancied himself quite the poet, did he?”
“I suppose he did,” he agreed, returning the smile. “You fond of poetry?”
Oh there’s a dorky poet I’m fond of, alright.
Chasing away the rogue thought, she leaned back in her seat, finding herself far more relaxed. Despite the occasional interruption, the maelstrom of thoughts in her mind had mostly abated, if only for a moment, as she soaked in the ever-quaint charm of another Ponyville morning.
But it wasn’t just another Ponyville morning, was it? From the corner seat on the porch of the cafe, she had a clear view of the surrounding town. Her eyes began to scan the surroundings.
Purple. Yellow. Blue. Brown. She had known these colors existed ever since her youth, of course, heard their names over and over again. And even from her youth, she had begun recognizing them amid the endless gray, despite the monochromaticity of her world. She had developed the uncanny ability to distinguish between the subtle shades of gray, and, when pressed, she had always shown a knack for knowing which shade was which color with surprising accuracy. It was a talent that lent itself well to her craft.
But now? Now, the handicap was gone. Already, she was beginning to identify objects around her and categorize them into their various hues and shades. Many objects matched her expectations for their color, while some differed in surprising ways—she wasn’t perfect, after all. She began reinforcing her understanding of the relationships between them—some colors seemed to go well together, and others stood in absolute contrast with each other.
The home of one of Rarity’s occasional customers, Roseluck, was just down the street. Ever the gardener, her front porch was lined with rows of planters, resplendent with neatly-arranged flowers of so many vibrant shades—lavender petunias and pale pink lilies, rich red dahlias alongside blossoming sunflowers of the brightest gold.
Rarity knew, from her time with her notoriously-picky client, that Roseluck was a color-sighted mare. But even without knowing that, it was plainly obvious that her home was a product of that gift. For only one with such a talent could create such coordinated beauty out of the unpredictable nature of… well, nature itself.
Across from Roseluck’s home was that of Ditzy Doo, a local mailmare. Rarity knew Ditzy Doo from her school days, and thus knew that the dopey mare had been color-sighted since before she could even fly, the lucky little rascal. But despite that, the porch of the bubbly family mare was a veritable cornucopia of clashing colors—from the sun-faded pastels of scattered antique porch-side furniture, to the discordant primaries and bright-hot hues of her children’s little macaroni creations hanging from the window sill.
The facade of her home, in all its garishness, stood in stark contrast to Roseluck’s carefully-curated arrangements.
And Rarity loved it. It was bursting at the seams with charm and personality, so clearly was it a home filled with life and happiness and the warmth of a loving family. She relished in the warmth that emanated from the vibe of Ditzy Doo’s homey little home.
Or perhaps that was her coffee?
“This is incredible,” she whispered, turning to the stallion with shimmering eyes, to the only pony within arms’ reach that could possibly understand. “Absolutely incredible.”
He nodded, his own eyes bright with wonder as he, too, broke from his wanderings to meet her gaze. “It absolutely is.”
“I must admit,” Rarity continued, “I’ve dreamed of this day since I was a filly. I just… it’s been so many years, and I had pretty much given up any notion that it would ever happen.”
“And yet, here we are,” he said. “On such a regular day, too. Everything about this is just… magical.”
He’s right. And I would know magical. I’m friendswith magical.
“Not at all what we were expecting to have happen today, is it?” Rarity said, giggling away her rampant thoughts.
“Not at all!” he agreed. “Today was just a routine stop in Ponyville, to offload some leftover stock on the way back to my home base in Tall Tale.”
“So you’re a traveling merchant?” Rarity inquired, curious of the pony’s history and more than ready to focus on somepony else for a moment.
“Yep!” He nodded proudly. “Selling the finest, most exotic fruits you can find in the Equestrian Heartland.”
“Exotic specialty fruits, you say?” Rarity said, leaning forward in interest, her mind wandering to her orange friend. “I’ll bet you don’t sell Applejack’s finest.”
“That’s a bet you’d lose!” he said, grinning. “Not here, of course, but we have exclusive contracts with the Apple family to sell their rarest stock anywhere else we go in Equestria. Including Zap Apples. When they’re in season, of course.” He winked.
“Ahh,” Rarity said. “That’s quite the lucrative business arrangement. Here I was under the impression that you sourced your own stock, but by the sound of it, the Apples aren’t your only supplier?”
“Oh, heavens, no,” he chuckled. “There’s some fancy crops we’ll grow in Tall Tale, but those aren’t always in season, so we stock from all over the Heartland to make up for it. Opal oranges from Manehattan, candied carrots out in Fillydelphia, dragonfruit from the Dragon Lands, even a few numbers out in Trottingham when it’s not cold as a windigo’s backdraft.”
“Goodness!” Rarity giggled at the analogy, before settling into an impressed hum. “Mm, a traveling merchant, selling exotic goods all over Equestria. I must say, you certainly do have entrepreneurial spirit.”
“Whatever puts food on the table,” he said, folding his hooves. “Er, in a manner of speaking.”
They shared a light chuckle, with Rarity finding this stallion easier to talk to by the minute.
“Do I share that ‘entrepreneurial spirit’ with somepony else at the table?" he asked with a curious smile.
“How very observant of you,” Rarity replied sweetly. “I’m the sole proprietor of my own little business, myself.” She slipped into the well-rehearsed tone of an expert salesmare. “‘Carousel Boutique! Where every garment is chic, unique, and magnifique!’”
“Ahh, so you’re a tailor, then?”
Rarity held a hoof to her chest in mock scandal. “Why, I’m not just a tailor, good sir, I am a seamstress . I do not just sew, I design . From dresses, to suits, to even the odd pyjama. I make garments for young and old, stallion and mare! Garments to dazzle and impress on the most raucous of nights! And perhaps, on the more intimate ones… to intrigue as well.” She winked slyly at the stallion in an act of practiced showmareship.
“Haha, well, color me intrigued, Miss Rarity!” he exclaimed, making a grand show of fanning himself and being enraptured by Rarity’s play-seduction. “If your craftsmareship is anything like your salesmareship, I have no doubt in my mind that you are a master of your trade.”
“I do take great pride in my work,” said Rarity, holding her muzzle high in the air.
“Then this…” He leaned back in his seat, searching for words. “This must be an extraordinary moment for you.”
“Hmm?” Rarity looked at him, tilting her head.
“All… this ,” he said, extending his arms out to gesture at everything around them. “Gaining color-sight. This will certainly change how you ply your craft, will it not?”
“It most certainly will,” Rarity nodded. “I mean, I’ve been studying color for years now, and I could distinguish most hues from each other at gunpoint, should the need arise. But being able to see it in all its glory… it’s incredible. To perceive something I could once only imagine… it’s like… goodness, I can scarcely find the words to describe it. It’s like if Schaden Freude were to regain his hearing, such that he need no longer compose deaf.”
“An apt comparison,” nodded Tinder.
“No doubt it will help you in your business as well?” Rarity inquired.
“Mm, not as much,” he admitted. “The most practical benefit I’ll gain from it is to better tell how fresh or ripe my produce is, but I could already see much of that through gray-sight.”
“Ah, I suppose that’s true.”
“Though I am looking forward to seeing my stock in all its vibrant hues,” he said, almost dreamily. “Especially those Zap Apples. No longer shall they be striped bands of gray to mine eyes!”
“Oh yes ! A few neighbors of mine with color-sight have spoken quite grandly of the vibrant countenance of a Zap Apple. I am very much looking forward to that. No doubt it’ll be a rich source to mine for inspiration when I start designing my upcoming spring lineup.”
“Haha, no doubt indeed,” he said, chuckling. “I take it you work out of Ponyville, then?”
“I most certainly do!” she confirmed with an excited nod of her head. “My boutique—well, actually, it’s also my home—is just down the way.” A sudden idea came to her head. “In fact, why don’t you come and visit sometime this afternoon? My shop is always open past noon.”
“Oh? That sounds like a lovely idea. In fact, my stand is already closed up for the day, so my schedule is free until the evening.” He blinked once. “Though I’d hate to get in the way of your work, considering it would be during your business hours and all.”
“Oh, no, of course not!” Rarity said, beaming at Tinder’s consideration. “I’d absolutely love a companion with whom I can explore my own wares, and who better than yourself? After all, now that I have color-sight, it’ll be just as much a new experience for myself as it would be for a first-time shopper like you!”
His smile broadened. “Well, so long as I am no imposition to your business or household, I’d be glad swing by.”
“Absolutely not, my dear!” she assured him. “It would just be myself, my sister Sweetie Belle, and Twi—”
Everything came to a screeching halt.
He blinked in confusion. “I… I’m sorry?”
“…T-Twilight,” she finished. “Twilight Sparkle. She lives with me.”
“I see,” he repeated. Rarity saw the color draining from his face, almost as if he too had reached the very same realization that Rarity had been so adamant to quash for as long as she could. “And this ‘Twilight Sparkle’… would be…?”
“…My girlfriend.”
His jaw froze. He blinked. He blinked again.
“Your… girlfriend,” he said slowly, his words slowing to speechlessness.
Yes.
My girlfriend.
Twilight Sparkle.
The love of my life.
So long had she held the thought at bay, so long had she hoped to stave off the reality of her situation, that when it finally came crashing upon her, it crashed with the force of a tsunami.
My girlfriend is not my soulmate.
The mare I love with all my heart is not my soulmate.
Twilight Sparkle is not. My. Soulmate.
The thoughts reverberated throughout her head, crashing against her mind, echoing like bombs, rattling her to her core, shaking her so thoroughly that Rarity began quivering in her seat, nearly slipping out of her chair.
“M-Miss Rarity?!” said Tinder as he leapt to his hooves and rounded the table. “Miss Rarity, please get a hold of yourself!”
She felt his hoof on her shoulder.
And it terrified her.
It wasn’t the soft, concerned, delicate touch of her beloved. It was a hoof she had never felt before. Rough, weathered, hardened through years of traveling across the sprawling roads that connected every major port-of-call in Equestria.
It was the hoof of her soulmate. Her soulmate .
And it terrified her. It terrified her that his touch, the touch of somepony that the cosmos had bound to her, could feel so… foreign. So alien.
And yet…
She turned her head to lock eyes with the stallion, the man whom destiny had declared her soulmate. She could barely focus, her vision having gone blurry through the tears that threatened to overtake her. But she tried. She tried so hard to think of nothing but the shimmering, brilliant yellow orbs belonging to the one tied to her by fate. They were unfamiliar and wholly alien… yet they were filled with concern, with confusion, with fear .
Everything she knew was crashing around her.
But she wasn’t the only one whose world had been overturned.
She focused on his eyes, on the unfamiliar but not unwelcome sensation of his hoof on her shoulder. She focused on the emotions that he no doubt shared with her. She took a deep breath, one that she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding.
And slowly, but surely, her shudders abated, and the world came into clarity once more.
“I’m… thank you, Tinder,” she said, slowly, carefully, her voice hollow. “I think I’ll be alright.”
“Are you sure?” he asked in concern.
“Not in the slightest,” she admitted, trying to rise back to a proper sitting position. “But perhaps if I pretend I am, it’ll magically come true somehow.”
I could certainly use a dose of magic right now.
“That’s… a better start than none at all,” Tinder said with a sigh, his expression softening. Swiftly dragging his chair—and coffee—over to their side of the table, he sat down side by side with Rarity, whom had begun nursing her own mug of coffee once more. “Is there something I need to know, Miss Rarity? Er,” he hesitated. “If you’re ready, of course.”
Rarity stared into the brown-ish blackness of her coffee.
If I don’t confront it now, I’ll have to eventually. There’s no escaping the reality of the situation.
Without further ceremony, she downed the rest of her coffee in one gulp—it wasn’t scalding, but it was certainly hot enough to jolt her nerves into a state that at least somewhat resembled function—before setting it back on the table without a hint of her usual grace.
“I… yes,” she confessed, refusing to meet Tinder’s eyes. “For the last two years, I have been… spoken for. Her name is Twilight Sparkle.”
“I see,” he said simply. “How long…?”
She spoke slow. “Two years.”
We had only just celebrated our second anniversary mere weeks ago.
A question tugged at Rarity’s mind.
“How about—” she opened her mouth to speak… but her voice caught.
It felt like asking this question would be a betrayal.
Is it though?
“How about…?” asked Tinder, his voice gentle but imploring.
“How…” Rarity whispered. “How about yourself?”
Tinder stared at Rarity thoughtfully, thinking through his words, almost knowing that each one could rattle Rarity to her core.
But in the end, he chose to value his honesty over her peace-of-mind.
“Single. And… looking.”
Rarity let out a breath. Of course he was single and looking. The universe might as well be hinting at something.
“Mister Tinder, forgive the implications, but… you aren’t, perchance, a stranger to romance… are you?”
He laughed nervously. “I can’t say that I am, Miss Rarity. I’ve been with a couple mares. To test the waters. To chase off the ennui of loneliness. To lose myself in a pony I had great affection for. And, well, to… scratch that itch.”
“Ah, yes,” Rarity breathed through her nose with a small smile. “That itch.”
“Y-yeah.” He blushed. “But despite all of that, it just never felt…”
“It never felt…?”
“Right ,” he concluded. “Like there was always something missing. Like we conflicted on such a fundamental level that we’d never be able to work it out.”
A pregnant pause.
“So then…” Rarity began. “Does that mean… that you believe in soulmates?”
“I do,” he declared, with no hesitation. “One-hundred percent.”
Rarity sucked air in through her teeth.
“And… what do you think, now that it’s happened?” she asked, even if she feared the answer. “What do you think of your soulmate? Of me?”
Tinder gave her a meaningful stare. Then he let loose a sigh, before locking eyes with her.
“Miss Rarity… I think you are an intriguing, fascinating mare. You carry yourself with a confident, radiant beauty, and you clearly have a powerful creative ambition that I can’t help but admire. The more we speak, the more relaxed I feel. The more I learn about you, the more I want to be involved in your life. And, right now… there’s little more I want than that very privilege.”
A pregnant pause.
“Miss Rarity…” Tinder began, hesitantly. He paused for a moment, as if to reconsider what he was about to say. But somehow, he mustered up the courage. “Miss Rarity. You are clearly distressed.”
Rarity glared at him with hollow eyes. “That obvious, is it? How else am I supposed to feel? I’ve wasted so many of my years emotionally investing so much of myself in the love of my life, only to find out that she isn’t the love of my life. Twilight Sparkle isn’t my soulmate. You are.”
Her voice rang hollow as she spoke those last words. It was as if reality had finally asserted itself. As if her admission had made it real.
And it seemed as though the world had turned gray again. If only for a moment.
How am I going to break the news to her?
“I… I don’t understand,” he said, confused. “How is that a waste?”
“How is it not a waste?” she asked, her voice dry, her lips curled. “The universe has spoken. You and I were meant to be together. She and I were not.”
“Well, uh,” he began ever so cautiously, “that certainly didn’t stop you two, did it?”
“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” Rarity muttered. “But what does that matter now?”
“Of course it matters,” he insisted. “By the sound of it, you began dating her, even knowing that she wasn’t your soulmate. So then you must not care if she is or not, or about soulmates at all.”
“I do care about soulmates,” Rarity corrected, gently. “And I began dating her knowing that she hadn’t granted me color-sight , not that she wasn’t my soulmate.”
“You… believe there’s a difference?”
“I… don’t know,” Rarity admitted with a sigh.
“How could you not know?” insisted Tinder.
“How could I?!” she snapped, glaring at him and causing him to jump back. “Mister Tinder, all my life, I’ve wanted nothing more than to meet my soulmate. It was something I’d dreamed of as a child, woven into the tales that I would reenact with my dolls, interspersed throughout so many of the stories I consumed on a regular basis. My parents cooed and cawed about how incredible it was for them to gain their color-sight, how clear it was that they were meant to be together, how happy and fulfilled they were with each other, despite the fact that they might as well have been day and night!
“For so long, every major influence around me had led me to believe that, next to getting your cutie mark, finding your soulmate was the most important moment in a pony’s life. And only a scant few years ago did I finally come to terms with the possibility that it might never happen.”
She tore her eyes from him. “I made decisions based on that realization, Mister Tinder. I chose to try and find happiness beyond the realm of the color-sighted. I chose…”
I chose…
“I chose Twilight Sparkle,” she declared, with deafening finality. “And now… here I am. Forced to confront the weight of my decision. Forced to confront the possibility that… that I…”
I chose wrong.
Despite everything, Rarity had not the strength to bear the weight of those words. She did not have the fortitude to say them aloud. Just the mere thought was painful. Her heart ached. It ached so terribly for herself.
It ached so, so terribly for Twilight Sparkle.
“Can you tell me about her?” came Tinder’s soft voice, breaking through the miasma of pain that so engulfed Rarity’s mind.
She blinked, then finally turned to look Tinder in the eyes. He seemed unsteady, and somewhat on edge, but he otherwise wore a gentle smile.
His hoof had never left her shoulder.
…Tell you about Twilight Sparkle?
Rarity laughed. It was a hollow laugh. “Goodness, how could I— where do I even begin with Twilight Sparkle?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged helplessly. “Maybe from the beginning. How did you meet her? What is she like?”
“But… why?”
Why did Tinder, her soulmate , want to know of Twilight Sparkle?
“Please,” he implored. “Tell me.”
She found that she had no reason to deny him his request. After all… in the span of a single morning, he had gone from just another pony to the single most important stallion in her life.
And he needed to know.
So… as painful as it was… Rarity spoke. She spoke about the mare she loved.
She spoke about Twilight Sparkle.
“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.
Mind.
Off.
Things.
Rarity’s creation room was a disaster zone. Hay, her entire boutique was a disaster zone. Stray bolts of fabric strewn all about. Dresses here and there. Marrequins toppled over, some adorned with various garments, others completely bare.
And Rarity herself? Well, she was nothing short of frazzled.
The mare had come home to an empty boutique. Sweetie Belle was at school, of course, but the mare she really needed to see—Twilight Sparkle—was nowhere to be found, and neither were any clues as to her unexplained departure.
Of course, Rarity, with a start, had realized that she could now see her entire boutique in all of its vibrant shades. Which included everything . The wallpaper, the garments she had been making, all of her decor, the furniture, the photos…
The photos. They had been the biggest deal. As soon as she laid eyes on the first one and unintentionally exposed herself to the tiniest hint of lilac that adorned it, she had slammed it face down on its surface with her magic—which was a very attractive shade of blue, she might add—and promptly left her boutique to hunt down Twilight Sparkle herself.
But, for some odd reason, Twilight wasn’t around town at all. She wasn’t at home in her castle, nor anywhere else she typically hung out. She seemed to have made an unexpected excursion out of town, and stars only knew where she had gone to, why she had left, or how long it would be until she returned.
Running out of options, Rarity resigned herself to having to return home.
But not before first stopping at the home of her best friend.
“Please please please , you beautiful butter-yellow creature, you,” she had implored to Fluttershy. “I cannot lay eyes on a single photo of Twilight Sparkle with my color-sight. Not before I can see the real thing myself. You must do this for me, Fluttershy. You must .”
And so, Fluttershy—her day thoroughly interrupted—had nonetheless kindly followed Rarity home so that she could spend a good chunk of her time hunting down any and all traces of the alicorn. Every photo, every personal belonging emblazoned with her cutie mark, every stray mane-hair and leftover feather.
Was Fluttershy annoyed? Perhaps a teensy bit. But it was eclipsed by the sheer unbridled joy—and the teeny hint of concern—that she felt for Rarity on the day of her soulmating.
Making Rarity’s home Twilight-free was a lot of work, too. Even now, several months after the destruction of the beloved Golden Oak Library, Twilight still felt horribly uneasy in her new castle—and for good reason, the thing was a horribly-mismatched crystalline blight upon the landscape of the once-sleepy township—and thus had been spending an inordinate amount of time at Carousel Boutique, such that a great many signs of her near-permanent residence had been scattered about.
But, in good time, Fluttershy had managed to clear out pretty much the entire downstairs, leaving Rarity to freely float about the first floor of her home, examining all of the colors that comprised her household.
Once she had finished cooing and cawing over the pastel hues that decorated her home—”Even with graysight, I had excellent taste in color!” she had exclaimed to a softly-giggling Fluttershy—she had moved onto her own carefully-woven garments, many of which, upon colored examination, now needed a comprehensive redesign.
And so, along with a complete reorganization of her creative room, she began separating her clothing lines—the ones that needed preservation from the ones that needed revision. It was a task that occupied a massive chunk of Rarity’s active brainspace.
Which was good. Because otherwise, they would be utterly consumed by thoughts of Twilight Sparkle.
Rarity had been counting on being able to chat with Twilight, to confront her about the revelation, to work through it with her, so that she could out how best to approach the ultimatum that Tinder had revealed. So much of the weight behind her next decision relied on how well the discovery of Rarity’s soulmate would go over with Twilight, and she needed the mare’s help. She couldn’t make a choice like this on her own.
And yet, the mare was nowhere to be found. Without her, all that consumed Rarity’s mind were the same questions that had so utterly filled her with dread all morning.
Twilight Sparkle. Where had she gone?
The thought plagued Rarity’s mind. And despite everything Tinder had done to soothe her anxieties, the aches, the fear, the terror, Rarity’s unending distress over the staggering unknown that was Twilight Sparkle… it lurked in the depths of her heart.
So Rarity worked. To stave off the darkness in her heart.
New designs. New colors. New… everything.
In anticipation for the day Rarity gained her color-sight, the mare had specifically prepared a beautiful set of professional colored sketching pencils. The smell of new art supplies wafted forth from her canvas as she sketched.
Out of the hundreds of colors that now made up her extensive collection…
…she had chosen mulberry.
Like a foal.
And so sketched the foalish Rarity. And for a good long while, the only sounds were of the near-silent scratching on her canvas, and the ruffling as Fluttershy helped her with the reorganization of her boutique.
Until, all at once, the shuffling sounds from out in the foyer came to a stop, leaving a pregnant aural void in the household.
Perhaps Fluttershy has gone to use the little fillies’ room—?
Her ears picked up something.
Voices.
Whispers.
Oh no.
She clamped her ears shut and continued focusing on her sketch.
Twilight is home.
Her heart began beating like crazy. The beats reverberated in her head. Thump. Thump.
I should go greet her.
Which is exactly what Rarity did not do.
Rarity heard the muffled whispers of Fluttershy and Twilight through her downturned ears, barely registering the words. But she shut it out. She closed her eyes. She closed out the world as best as she could.
But there it was. The sweet, distant windchimes of Twilight’s dainty, girlish voice, fighting for domination over the heavy heartbeat echoing in her head.
And… ultimately, Rarity couldn’t take it anymore.
She opened her eyes. And her ears.
And she let it in.
“…for trying to warn me,” came the siren call of Twilight’s voice, in all its perfect clarity.
Rarity relished the sound. And she hadn’t realized how much she missed it.
It was now or never.
…Well, no, not never. Maybe a few minutes later. But now was better.
“Twi…” Rarity began, her voice hoarse and unsteady. She cleared her throat daintily, and managed to recapture some semblance of her usual manner. “Tw-Twilight, is that you?”
A moment’s pause.
Hoofsteps.
Clip. Clop. Clip. Clop.
…
She was here.
Rarity sketched on. Bold, sweeping lines of mulberry.
She didn’t turn around.
For a time, there was no sound beside the scratching of Rarity’s sketch pencil. Twilight was surely in her room now, but for some odd reason, she didn’t say a word.
Perhaps she couldn’t.
Neither could Rarity.
And Rarity didn’t turn around. Not even when Twilight finally broke the silence.
“How are you feeling?” came her delicate singsong voice, the voice that Rarity so loved. “Fluttershy said you’d been looking for me, but I… I left for Canterlot earlier.”
Rarity was hesitant to answer, at first. How was she feeling? She was feeling so, so many things. And very few of those things were pleasant.
But she focused on Twilight’s beautiful voice, and as much as her heart ached… she could still feel it soar.
“I… I feel very different,” she eventually replied. Setting her pencil down, she began to turn. “Twilight…”
Another pause as she considered exactly what she was about to do.
And even though she steeled her resolve to speak, it wasn’t enough for her to turn around. Not yet.
“Twilight, there’s something I need to tell you—”
“I already know,” declared Twilight.
Rarity froze. Twilight already knew ? How? Who ?
“Applejack told me earlier today,” she continued, her voice clipped. “She… she said you met a stallion at the marketplace, and…”
Her voice trailed off. And Rarity’s thoughts grew ever louder. So loud, that Rarity couldn’t prevent herself from voicing them.
“Applejack told you?” Rarity asked, a cold edge to her voice. She turned back to her sketch, picked up another pencil, and began sketching more. Orange . “She could have asked me before telling you.”
“I heard some ponies talking about it at the main plaza,” Twilight quickly blurted out, “so I saw Applejack and I made her tell me. And she agreed because… she was worried, I suppose.”
“Worried?” Rarity made a jerking motion, but stopped herself again. Not yet . “Worried why? Did something happen?”
Of course something had happened. What an insipid thought. They both knew exactly what happened.
So why was Rarity treating this like it wasn’t a big deal?
“Applejack thought I’d think you… wouldn’t want to be with me anymore because of this.”
Rarity froze. Again. But this time, she felt the warmth leave her face. She felt it.
The dread.
Twilight’s words hadn’t just hammered in the source of Rarity’s dread with a rusty nail… they had pinned underneath them all of the fear, the uncertainty, the doubt that had plagued Rarity over the last two years.
In just a few words… all of Tinder’s efforts, all of his ministrations… had come undone. And the fear closed in on Rarity’s mind once more, the suffocating fog closing upon her, causing her to nearly choke in pain. Suddenly, she found it harder to breathe. Suddenly, her sight began to blur as the pain stung her eyes. Suddenly, she felt tears bursting at the seams of her lids, tears she could only just barely suppress.
“A-and just seeing how you can’t even turn to look at me,” came Twilight’s voice again—unsteady, trembling, so filled with terror of its own, “or that you turned around every photograph you had of me—” she heard a choking sound, as if Twilight were too fighting back tears “—then I guess she was right to be worried.”
Her final words came with a deafening coldness. And it chilled Rarity to her core, leaving Rarity hurt right down to the very core of her being.
Twilight believed, fully, that Rarity wanted to abandon her.
And something else in Rarity began to build. But this time it wasn’t pain. This time it wasn’t a suffocating fog. This time it wasn’t fear.
This time… it was outrage.
And Rarity’s outrage revealed itself in full force as she leapt out of her chair, throwing it to the ground and nearly startling Twilight out of her horseshoes as it sent scattered art supplies flying.
“No.”
It was done. She couldn’t wait any longer. She had to clear this misconception. Right here. Right now.
“Twilight,” she began as she turned around, determined to no longer face her problems. “We only turned the photos away because I wanted to… to see you… in…”
Rarity’s speech sputtered out pathetically, along with all of her outraged intent… as she finally turned around. Her jaw hung agape. Her eyes bulged out of their sockets. And the glasses carefully perched on her nose nearly slipped off.
With a single hoof, she rose to push them back onto her face.
And the mare before her came into sharp clarity once more.
There she stood. Her beloved, in all of her chromatic glory. Every inch of Twilight’s countenance was exposed to Rarity’s color-graced sight, from the short pale furs of her mulberry coat and wings, to the rich vivid blue of her silky smooth mane, a blue as dark as Luna’s endless night sky, streaked with brilliant comet stripes of pink and purple.
At once, Rarity knew that she was gazing upon the most beautiful thing that she had ever seen.
…Even with that stupid, nonplussed look of utter shock on Twilight’s face.
The mare in question blinked—her brilliant purple irises dilating in all their hued glory—as she processed the several seconds of eternity that passed between the two mares. And her facial expression only became more baffled.
It was enough to elicit a snort from Rarity.
“Snrrkt.”
Instantly she threw a hoof to her mouth, suppressing the noise. But it couldn’t stop. Neither the giggles that were threatening to burst from her muzzle, nor the tears of mirth that cascaded down her face, ruining her mascara.
All of the pain. All of the fear. It had evaporated in an instant. And all that was left was laughter. And as Rarity devolved into a basket of giggles, Twilight simply looked on in perplexed shock, unable to say a word.
It was Rarity who spoke first, in between her fitful laughs.
“Twilight, you… Oh my goodness, I…” Another burst of laughter.
“... Rarity?” Twilight asked, ever so cautiously, like she was about to handle an unpredictable alien creature. “Are you okay…?”
“Oh! Oh, I’m terribly sorry, my darling,” Rarity finally managed as her giggling came to an end. She wiped her eyes with a hoof, smearing makeup all over it. But she didn’t care. “I’m just stunned, is all. I didn’t know it was possible for you to look more beautiful. But oh goodness, I’ve never been happier to have been proven oh so wonderfully wrong.”
Twilight, still utterly dumbstruck by Rarity’s response, could do nothing but stand there, gaping as a pronounced color began to overtake her cheeks.
Rarity had seen this same phenomenon on Tinder just hours earlier, but somehow on Twilight it looked infinitely better. She devolved into another fit of giggles.
“Oh, oh, Fluttershy! Fluttershy!” Rarity called excitedly, causing Fluttershy to poke her head into the room. “Is ‘blushing’ when her cheeks turn all red and adorable?”
Upon that pronouncement, Twilight’s cheeks only reddened even further, her ears flattening against her skull in extreme mortification.
Fluttershy gave her own soft, dainty giggle. “I don’t know, but I think it is, yes.” Rarity squeed, causing Fluttershy to roll her eyes good-naturedly at the excitable mare. “I’m going to go finish organizing the dresses outside.”
Fluttershy’s departure only cued Rarity to even greater lengths of excitement. Without a moment’s hesitation, she had snatched one of her brand new color palettes off the wall, and was holding them up to Twilight to compare. She needed to know everything about the mare, every color, every shade. And so enraptured by this process of discovery she was, so oblivious to Twilight’s protestations, that she hadn’t even deigned to stop until she was forcefully brought to a halt by Twilight’s magic.
“Rarity, will you please calm down?!” Twilight shouted.
Rarity blinked. She found herself staring into Twilight’s face. Twilight’s dumbfounded, flustered little face.
She always looked so adorable when she was angry.
“Hi,” Rarity said sweetly to Twilight.
Twilight groaned, releasing her magical grip on Rarity, who landed with a clippity-clop, no worse for wear. “Hi.”
Rarity tilted her head at Twilight, about to ask her if anything was amiss, until Twilight beat her to it.
“Are you alright?” she asked, her eyes tilted in concern, and Rarity was nearly struck breathless at Twilight’s continued worry. “It… didn’t hurt you or anything, did it?”
Rarity had to restrain herself from giggling again. “I’m perfectly healthy, Twilight,” she assured her, reaching up with a hoof to brush back Twilight’s bangs. “It happened so quic—”
Her eyes.
Oh my goodness.
Her eyes.
She hadn’t seen them this close yet, and it was like she was gazing into an endless abyss of beauty.
Rarity could not stop herself from squealing at the sight.
“Oh my goodness , look at the color of your eyes ! They’re BEAU—”
”Rarity, please!” Twilight interrupted, breaking eyesight.
“Oh, Twiiiliiiight,” groaned Rarity, “let me have this moment, will you? Don’t you know how long I’ve wanted to be able to see you like this? And now that it’s happened, how can you expect me not to fawn over how beautiful you are?”
It was true. So many times throughout the last two years, Rarity had teased Twilight about how drop-dead gorgeous she might be with color-sight. And now that she had it…
It was like she was falling in love with Twilight Sparkle all over again.
“Rarity, please, this is serious ,” Twilight insisted in that frustrated whine of hers.
“Oh, but I agree completely,” Rarity chided her. “You truly are seriously beautiful,”
Another blush graced her cheeks, and she rolled her eyes at Rarity’s smart attitude.
But she finally smiled. The tiniest smile. And Rarity felt her heart soar once more.
But just as quickly as that smile had formed… it faded away.
”Rarity, I just…” Her voice petered off.
Rarity tilted her head, staring in concern. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? You’re not happy?”
“How can I be happy, Rarity?” said Twilight, her voice cracking, her hooves shakily taking her several cautious steps back from Rarity, pawing at the ground with an unsteady hoof. “You met your soulmate .”
The pang of pain beat at her heart again.
“How am I supposed to compete with the pony that ‘destiny’ says you’re supposed to be with?”
And again. It grew stronger.
But this time…
Rarity was ready.
She glared at Twilight, glared at the pain in both her own heart and the heart of the mare before her. She glared it away.
She would not let it consume her again.
“Twilight, we talked about this,” Rarity said, quickly working out in her head a means to reassure Twilight. “I thought you didn’t believe in soulmates and things like that.”
“But you do…” she replied, her voice quavering even more than before.
And suddenly it made sense. Why Twilight hadn’t been home. Why she had disappeared without leaving.
She had run away. To seek solace. Kinship. Perhaps from her mentor, Princess Celestia? Perhaps from her sister-in-law, Cadance?
“Oh, my darling…” She went in to sweep her into a hug. “This is why you’ve been gone all day, isn’t it?”
Twilight silently nodded, sniffling lightly. And at that moment, Rarity realized she had been wrong in thinking that Twilight had made it through the morning unscathed. Rarity hadn’t been the only one who had been suffering all this time.
And it moved her heart.
Of course. “This is why I should have told you first, not those gossiping devils. You poor thing. You must have been so horribly upset all day.”
Just like me .
A moment’s silence passed as Rarity soaked in the sensation of Twilight’s coat against her own. She was reminded of how much she loved nestling into the other mare’s embrace, the soft, naturally-dainty bristles of her furs.
Twilight seemed hesitant at first to reciprocate Rarity’s affections… but eventually, she gave in to the same sensation.
And for just a moment… they snuggled in silence.
But a terribly short moment it was, as Twilight distanced herself slightly from Rarity. The now vacant furs on her coat felt cold, and already Rarity yearned to feel Twilight’s soft touch again, only mere seconds after they had left.
Rarity almost pined for Twilight to attend to her again, but was stopped cold as Twilight whispered something.
“What about… him?”
Him? She must have meant… Tinder Hooves.
“I mean, what if he wants to be with you?”
The fresh memories of their conversation came rushing back to Rarity, brought once again to the forefront of her mind.
Dearest Tinder Hooves. He had been so patient, so ready to help her through her internal conflict, so earnest in his efforts to help reconcile Rarity with her feelings for Twilight.
Despite the fact that he, himself, wanted her.
And deep down, there was a small piece of her heart that wanted him too. It was an old piece, left over from her childhood, a seed that had tumbled through the depths of her mind for decades, hoping to at last take root in her heart so that it could grow into the beautiful flower she knew it would become.
But she had to make a choice.
Right here.
Right now.
She dug deep into her heart and found her pain. It was still there, aching in the back of her heart, festering with uncertainty and doubt. She brought it to the forefront of her mind. It pounded against her psyche with incredible force, and Rarity mentally writhed under the agony of it all once again.
She grasped at the strength that she had drawn from Tinder Hooves of Tall Tale. His friendship, his support, pulsed with overwhelming vitality. It filled her soul with fortitude, filled her spirit with power, filled her heart with the conviction.
And with that conviction, she was finally able to reach out and force her way through her pain, to reach further and deeper than she ever had before, to finally find what she had been seeking all through the two longest, most chaotic, most incredible years of her life.
And when she did… she found warmth.
There was an old warmth, faded but not forgotten—the warmth of a confession on that cold winter night, the warmth of those constant assurances that Rarity was more beautiful than anything else in the world, the warmth of those early months filled with the novel wonders of a passionate romance still in its infancy.
There was a steady warmth, thrumming under the surface, steadfast after two years of constant cultivation—the warmth of Twilight’s endless earnesty, the warmth of her coat against hers, the warmth that flooded her heart every time she spoke, the warmth that set alight every nerve in her body during their most intimate moments.
And there was a new warmth, bright and powerful—the warmth of the kaleidoscope of violet hues that sprung into Rarity’s sight whenever she gazed upon the mare she loved, the warmth of her burning faith that destiny’s plans meant nothing in the face of their bond, the warmth of Rarity’s own conviction that she had the power to choose, to decide her own fate, to declare her own romantic allegiance to the one pony in the world that deserved it most.
Twilight Sparkle.
If the universe refused to make her her soulmate…
…then Rarity would have to do it herself .
So she did.
And it was done.
There was no ceremony. No flood of relief. No flash of light. No rousing brass fanfare. No leap of jubilation. No sign that anything significant had changed at all. There was nothing to declare the certainty of Rarity’s decision.
But she didn’t need any of that. She needed no pomp and circumstance. She needed nothing, save her own conviction, to declare her certainty.
For she had never been more certain of anything else in her life.
And that certainty was enough.
Twilight Sparkle was the love of her life. And that was a truth as immutable as destiny itself.
Rarity stepped back. She gazed into the shimmering, effervescent eyes of the mare she dared to love against fate. Those beautiful, terrified eyes. The most beautiful eyes in the world.
And she moved forward, until their lips met.
It was a chaste kiss. A pure kiss. Nothing but the smoothness of their lips made contact. Over the years, they had done far more, far greater, far more affectionate things with their lips, in hopes that in doing so they could convey even a fraction of the passion and the love they had for each other.
But here, right now, that one pure kiss communicated everything Rarity needed to say.
And Twilight stepped back. Her eyes glimmered with recognition. With understanding. With that same conviction that drove Rarity to certainty.
And she smiled.
“Twilight,” Rarity began, but stopped cold. What words did they even need at this point? Everything was going to be okay.
No. There was still a loose thread, that she needed to resolve for herself.
Her dear friend.
“Twilight… I am immensely grateful to Tinder Hooves for helping me gain my new sight. But… as of now, I have absolutely no interest in pursuing a relationship with him, and I can assure you he will feel the same way.”
As she said the words, she knew them to be true. She knew he would know them to be true as well.
“I made it very clear to him that I’m already in a wonderful, loving relationship with a very silly pony.”
Even as she said those words, even if they rang with truth… her heart still ached for him. The apology she gave at the cafe as they parted ways would forever remain the penultimate display of romantic affection that she would ever give him.
But she knew, by the resoluteness in his voice, by the support he so readily provided to Rarity as she festered in her uncertainty… she knew that this is what he wanted for her. Even more than what he would have wanted for himself.
Rarity closed her eyes.
Thank you, Tinder Hooves. For everything.
“…not a silly pony,” came the voice of Twilight’s protestations, bringing Rarity back to reality.
And Rarity laughed. It was a soft laugh. But it was a weightless laugh. Free of restraint, unburdened by doubt. A genuine, loving laugh. “Oh yes you are, Twilight Sparkle. Only a very silly pony would think I’d give her up over something as silly as this, when I had realized long ago that she was my soulmate.”
Twilight gaped at that declaration. “You mean that?”
Rarity smiled at Twilight. Somehow, she was still left in disbelief. Somehow, she still doubted herself.
Twilight had spent years trying to settle Rarity’s doubts.
It was only fair that Rarity would spend some time settling Twilight’s.
“Twilight, how could I not?” Rarity said, her voice filled with awe. “Not when I love you to pieces, and when you’re so smart, and beautiful.” She giggled, fluttering her eyelashes. “And not to mention adorable, when you blush just like you’re doing now?”
The declaration made Twilight blush even more. Distantly, Rarity wondered whether she could make it even redder. She reached out with a hoof and tapped Twilight gently on the nose.
Her face practically exploded with color.
Ah. There we go. What a gorgeous shade of red.
“Frankly,” Rarity said with finality, “you are too adorable, Twilight Sparkle.”
With that, something changed in Twilight’s expression. A glint in her eye.
And she smiled again.
But this time… she moved forward. And she embraced Rarity with all the gentle love that Rarity could ever remember.
Rarity wrapped a hoof around Twilight. “Are we feeling better now?”
“Much better… So much better,” Twilight said. "I love you..."
"I love you too, darling," Rarity replied.
Rarity knew that, with the revelation of her soulmate, those old doubts would come to plague Twilight again. Rarity knew that Twilight would be faced with times of trial, and would need Rarity’s help to overcome them. Tinder had said himself that this relationship would not be without risk.
But it was a risk that Rarity was willing to take.
"I can't wait until you can see in colors too,” she whispered.
Rarity idly wondered: when that happened, would Twilight face this same crucible in the future, the same crisis of faith that Rarity had? Perhaps. Perhaps not. But Rarity knew that she would do everything in her power to be there for Twilight when that day came.
For she could think of no greater gift than to let Twilight gaze upon her with color-sight for the first time.
After all, it was such an incredible experience for Rarity herself.
“And sweet Celestia,” she said, stepping back to gaze into Twilight’s luscious twin orbs again, “have I told you I simply cannot get over your eyes? Is this what they mean by getting lost in somepony's eyes?"
"Pfffft." Twilight laughed. She kissed Rarity on the muzzle again.
Rarity giggled at the contact. Though…
Out of the side of her eye, she noticed there were several strange objects floating in a magenta field of magic.
This… is Twilight’s magic, isn’t it?
“T-Twilight? Twilight, dear, what’s all this?
“Ummm, soooo…” Twilight said sheepishly. “Are you busy for the next six hours? And have you taken any liquids or eaten anything for the past twelve? That might… alter the results, but I can work with it.”
Alter the results?
Ah.
Experiments.
“Ooooh dear…” Rarity grinned.
But another idea came to her.
“You know , Twilight,” she said, blinking mischievously. “Now that I have color-sight… I have an experiment I’d like to perform of my own.”
Twilight looked up from one of her clipboards, raising an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yes.” Rarity approached Twilight with a sultry look. “Perhaps, with the proper application of… equine motor skills…”
The door suddenly shut, with only a moment’s flash of baby blue to indicate the cause.
“I’ll be able to make you see colors too.”
Twilight blinked. And it dawned on her exactly what this experiment would entail.
“…Oh.” Twilight blushed again. “…Sure?”
With one last flash of her periwinkle magic, Rarity closed the blinds.
And the world became their kaleidoscope.
