The Last Train Home

by Monochromatic

Rating: everyone
Tags: Rarity, Twilight Sparkle, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance
Length: 43683

Life is like a train ride, don't you think, dearest? Destinations will change, trains will be caught and missed, but there will always be somepony willing to journey with you—so long as you let them.

This story is a prequel to Injuring Eternity.

Life is like a train ride, don't you think, dearest? The tracks have been set, destination picked and the ticket is well in hoof. What a shame that so many, myself included, are so focused on the destination that they fail to realize a universal truth.

Destinations will change, trains will be caught and missed, but there will always be somepony willing to journey with you—so long as you let them.

Thanks to the amazing lilfunkman for the gorgeous cover art.

Now with a russian translation!

Published 2017-10-28 01:10:06 UTC
Last updated 2018-02-11 22:32:52 UTC

V - VII

V. The Humdrum of Routine

It’s interesting how quickly one falls into routine, into patterns that are both familiar and novel, tacitly established as most things are.

I never expected you to buy us coffee in the mornings, yet you always did.

You never expected me to buy us tea at night, yet I always did.

So many things begin silently, have you noticed? Or, rather, not silently so much as…there’s a word for it…unnoticed? That’s not quite it, but I can’t think of anything else. Oh well.

Anyway…

What was I talking about?

I bought you tea, and you bought me coffee. We slept in carriage 3-C in the mornings, and we gossiped in carriage 2-A in the evenings. You almost never sat next to me.

You read me stories. The sun had not yet risen, and you sat straight on your seat, using the carriage’s dim light to read from your book, while I allowed my cheek to get intimately acquainted with the chilly window. Sometimes I’d look at the scenery. Sometimes I’d close my eyes and imagine your tale in my head. Mostly, I slept.

“It was this seeming seriousness that made her all the more bewildering,” you read aloud in your lovely voice, the words seamlessly drifting in and out of the fragments of my sleepy consciousness. Your tone was severe, as though Equestria’s very fate rested on your ability to tell a story. “What she was saying was impossible in the extreme. Foolish, childish. Princesses that come from make-believe realms? Fairy tales, all of it, and yet… and yet when she spoke, her tone was measured. Rationality colored her whole character, and—”

You stopped.

I knew what was coming, so I spoke before you could.

“If you plan on chastising me for falling asleep, I’ll have you know you’re wasting your breath, Twilight,” I said, suppressing a yawn. “I’ve been following along. Now, go on with the story, please.”

You hummed, and I heard the flipping of pages. “Uhm… Where was I? Oh!” You cleared your throat, and I nuzzled the window, gratefully welcoming more minutes of sleep. Or, so I thought, until you spoke up again. “But, before I do…”

And with that, I told myself it had been worth a try.

Yes, yes! Laugh it up! You were cruel, Twilight! Cruel, cruel, cruel!

“Mmm?” I asked, playing along in a game I’d already lost.

“Sooooo,” you said, trying to sound adorably innocent, which I imagine was difficult when you were only one of those things! “What was the name of the traveler?”

In my hesitation, you found your reply while I found a smug voice that would not go away no matter how hard I pressed my ears against my head.

“Ah-ha! I knew it! You did fall asleep!”

“Twiiiiliiight,” I whined, tearing myself from the window and shooting you a piteous look. “It’s six in the morning! You can’t possibly expect me to stay awake! I need my beauty sleep! My rest! My—!” I yawned myself into silence.

“Rarity, you’ve already been sleeping for more than an hour, and if you continue, you’ll feel the exact opposite of well-rested,” you chided, closing the book and frowning. I half-expected you to cross your forelegs and waggle a disapproving hoof at me. “Studies show that the perfect nap should be between thirty to ninety minutes long. Anything longer than that and you’ll feel groggy or worse.”

I scoffed, snuggling up against the window. “Well, my studies show that more beauty sleep is better, so there! Take your quill out and prepare to take notes, darling; I’m about to turn theory into practice!”

Two hours went by, and I awoke once again to your gentle voice and soft touch. The sun had risen, and when my eyes fluttered open, I saw you hovering over me, the rays of sunshine illuminating you like a halo.

You looked angelic, I thought, which was fitting considering I felt like I wanted to die.

I groaned, burying my face into the seat and forsaking the sun that dared to wake me.

“Soooo,” you said in that tone of voice when you think you’re being awfully clever. I didn’t even need to look to know you were smirking at me. “Care to share your findings with the class?”

If I had a pillow readily available, I’d have smacked you with it.

We eventually made our way to the castle, and by that I mean, I eventually dragged myself out of the train, into the station and out into the city. My only consolation was that even deprived of sleep, I still looked fabulous. Didn’t I? What do you mean you don’t remember? You had a crush on me! Didn’t you spend your hours stealing glances at me? Sweetheart, you don’t need to deny it! I think it’s endearing!

“Rarity, are you sure you can handle this?” you asked, eyeing my brand new triple-charged cup of coffee. “It’s only been a week and half and you look exhausted.”

“Twilight Sparkle, I can take care of myself, I’ll have you know,” I reprimanded. “I just need to get used to the routine, is all.”

“I know,” you said. “I’m just…” You drifted off, and when I glanced your way, you seemed to be adrift in a sea of thoughts. You shook your head, and without offering any further explanation, noted: “we’re nearly there.”

“So we are!” I exclaimed, taking another sip of coffee and eyeing the castle looming close. “And Twilight.” I turned to you, lifting my hoof and brushed your bangs back. “Thank you for caring. I do appreciate it, even if I complained about it a little.”

You snorted. “Right. A little.”

And finally, I lifted my hoof and booped you, as it were.

“A little,” I said, smiling my most dazzling smile, which you returned with a smile of your own.

“Are we meeting for lunch again?” you asked. A travel guide appeared next to you, which you excitedly waved in front of my face. “I’ve been looking for new restaurants to take you to. There’s one in the Knowledge District I think you’ll like, next to the Dragon Library.”

That was the other part of our routine, do you remember? I would work on dresses, you would… do whatever it is you did? Read books? Discuss books? Declare your undying love to boo—Pardon me, I am not exaggerating! You didn’t marry a book only because it’s not socially acceptable! I’ve seen the way you look at them, Sparkle.

Ahem.

We both had our duties, of course, but every lunch time was devoted to exploring the city and its many wonders. Our own little bucketlist of places to visit before our time was up.

“Twilight, you know, I don’t think you’ve ever really told me much about your childhood,” I said once.

We were having brunch in one of the Sun District’s more upper class restaurants. It had been a particularly sunny day for the winter season, and I looked tres chic in my scarf, yellow chapeau and sunglasses whilst I elegantly gazed at the foals playing in the gardens.

You blinked at me from across the table, your ears twitching. “I haven’t?”

“You haven’t,” I replied, levitating my sunglasses up onto my head. I looked back towards the foals, making sure to continue looking as elegant as I possibly could. You never knew who you might meet, after all! “It’s not that I don’t think I’m a fascinating individual, but this is your home, darling! You’re more lively in Ponyville than you are here!”

“Ponyville is my home,” you replied. You looked around, and where I saw wonder and novelties, you saw...I want to say familiarity, but that wouldn’t be accurate, would it? You saw in Canterlot what I saw in Ponyville.

Nothing interesting at all.

“Canterlot is fine,” you continued. “It’s where I grew up, but that’s it. There’s nothing interesting here, besides the Princess, the library, and my family.”

I sighed theatrically. “Well, frankly, I disagree. I love it,” I replied, levitating my drink and taking a sip. “Ponyville is so unspeakably plain. There’s nothing to do there, but Canterlot? Canterlot is as limitless as the imagination! The city of wonders! Of glamour, fashion, and opportunity! It’s the best city in Equestria!”

You giggled. “You’re crazy. Ponyville is so much better”

I harrumphed, putting my glasses back on again. “You’re the crazy one!” I levitated my fork and pointed it towards you. “Come now! Sell it to me! Name one thing from Ponyville that makes it better than Canterlot, and it can’t be our friends!”

You stared at me for the longest time.

Though staring is, perhaps, the wrong expression. You never stared at me, or at anypony or anything. Such an act is much too uncouth for somepony of your intellect. You didn’t look at me, you saw me. I suppose that’s one of the reasons I enjoyed your company, narcissistic as it sounds. You analyzed me, tried to understand me.

I wish I had analyzed you as you did me. I might have seen what was so clear before me.

I turned away in the face of your silence. “See! You can’t even think of anything!” I looked at you again and smiled devilishly. “Actually, I can think of one thing that makes Ponyville better than Canterlot.”

You raised your eyebrow, and smiled, accepting the challenge. “Oh?”

“Me,” I said, and I wished you could see me fluttering my eyes behind my glasses. “I live there, after all, therefore it is superior to Canterlot. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Once more, you stared at me for the longest time before smiling playfully and resting your chin on your hoof.

“Oh, I do.”

VI. The Gossip of Nobles

Thinking back, those first two weeks now feel like a blur. I remember some important details, some events, but they all seem to obscure into darkness when compared to that night.

What do you mean what night? The night, Twilight! The one where I first saw you differently.

It started in my workshop while I worked on a new commission for Duchess Silkrose.

You see, when I first took on the job, I thought it was clear that it would entail sewing and tailoring only. I found out soon enough that all of that was simply secondary to my real job: being the castle’s very own gossip hub.

“And then, can you believe it? That pompous Razor Stream asked me to join him for dinner! What an oaf! Absolutely scandalous, Princess! Scandalous!”

I couldn’t fault them, really. Having to stand still for hours on end as I worked on their outfits? It’s no wonder their mouths ran like rivers, and yes, it’s true, I was not entirely off-put. Even if the Grand Galloping Gala had…been a rather unfortunate demonstration of Canterlot’s lacking aristocracy, I was still ensorcelled by it.

Even Princess Celestia indulged in it, the fiend!

She sat by the window, gazing out into the distance as the Duchess spoke, and I silently worked. I had been so nervous when the Princess had first arrived! I’d obviously been expecting her to meet with me eventually--she’d hired me herself, after all—but I hadn’t anticipated on it happening while I was working with a client!

Twilight, not everything Celestia does is a test!

“Now, Silkrose, you’re being too harsh on poor Razor,” the Princess said with an amused giggle. “He is only smitten.”

Duchess Silkrose, as you might remember, is, well… How shall I say this? Finesse and elegance are words I would hesitate to associate with her. She’s the type of pony who didn’t take care of herself with the expectation that her generous fortune would make up for it, only to find out with old age that such was not the case. She—

Well, yes, she looked like a wrinkly prune, but you don’t have to put it like that, Twilight.

The Duchess harrumphed. “Smitten! Well, he can be smitten elsewhere! He’ll have to work harder if he wants my attention! Every stallion in Canterlot wants it! I am one of Equestria’s most gorgeous mares!”

I snorted.

What! I couldn’t help it! Yes, I know it wasn’t polite, but I—! You know what, Twilight? How dare you be so aghast when you called her a wrinkly prune not even a minute ago! Well, I didn’t say it to her face, either!

Well, I did, but—

She didn’t notice, and that’s all that matters! I’d perfectly succeeded in masking it as a sneeze!

Or so, I thought, until I glanced towards the window and found the Princess staring right at me. You will never fully comprehend the fear that flooded me in that moment. She was much like you, actually. Never staring at me, but analyzing instead.

Realistically, it must have been only a second or two, but it felt eternal. In her stare, I saw my career go up in flames. My destiny unfolded before me as the seamstress shamed from Canterlot for having an indiscreet opinion on the Duchess’s very generous view of herself.

And then, and I’m not making this up, I give you my word, the Princess smiled at me. She smiled at me and, without breaking eye-contact, said, “Oh, I agree completely.”

I’m telling you, she did!

I had to excuse myself to fetch more fabrics just so the poor Duchess wouldn’t hear my giggling. It wasn’t all that awful of us, really! If you knew the things the Duchess said about the other nobles, I can assure you you’d see I’m entirely justified!

Speaking of which…

“Speaking of which,” she said—I’m being repetitive on purpose! It’s an aesthetic decision!

“Speaking of which,” she said—again—, clearing her throat and humming. The telltale sign of some sort of impeding scandalous gossip. “The wedding between Platinum Snow and Silver Scales is coming up in a few months, as you know.”

“I do!” the Princess said. “And I’m looking forward to it! There hasn’t been a wedding in the castle in some time.”

You remember them, don’t you, sweetheart? Silver Scale was an oaf, which we’ll discuss in a moment.

But Platinum.

Platinum, now she was in a class onto itself. I’d never really spoken with her before, but the few times I had, well, the mind did briefly wander towards indelicate thoughts. In a society like ours, where there’s so much more ladies than there are gentlecolts, one must always keep one's options open. At the time, I leaned towards stallions, mostly, but stars above, when I saw her, the way her mane perfectly cascaded down her face, and don’t get me started on her silky cerulean coat. It was like divinity and perfe—

Twilight Sparkle, I reasserted my undying love to you in a park not even less than two hours ago. Why in Equestria are you jealous?

Now, as I was saying, or, rather, the Duchess was saying, Platinum and Silver were set to be married in a few months. They were Canterlot’s sweethearts through and through, mostly because you and I weren’t an item yet. We would have destroyed them!

Sadly, they beat us to the proverbial punch.

“What about their wedding?” the Princess inquired, satiating the curiosity that piqued me.

I would have asked myself, but not only would that have been inappropriate, I was otherwise occupied glaring at fabrics through my glasses and deciding which one to use for the Duchess’s dress. I believe I went with silk, because I was young and foolish and distracted.

“Well!” The Duchess chuckled. “Our handsome Silver Scales went on a business trip last week to Trottingham.”

The Princess hummed, her eyes set on the Duchess. “I heard. He has some business ventures there, doesn’t he?”

“Ha! Business? Some would call it that, yes.” She lifted her hoof and patted down her dress. “Well. I was there last week, visiting my dear Professor Brazened, and who did I see but Silver Scales himself leaving the Mithral Hotel with a smile and very interesting company.”

I remember holding my breath, my needle floating inches away from the fabric. My mind reeled with all the possible directions she was going with that, and every direction was more scandalous than the last. Why, even the Princess was interested, her body leaning forwards and her ears directed towards the elder mare.

And then you arrived.

Three knocks at the door, the door rudely swinging open, and you poking your head in with an innocent expression, as though you had not just interrupted the juiciest gossip of the year, and I didn’t want to kill you.

Your eyes flickered towards me first, and my anger only slightly waned when faced with your brilliant smile. Of course, then you noticed Princess Celestia, and I was swiftly forgotten, cast aside in favor of your hopeless idolization of your mentor.

“Oh! Princess! Sorry, am I too early?” you asked her, only belatedly glancing at me, like I was some sort of afterthought. You know who wouldn’t have put the Princess before me? Platinum, that’s who! I heard she’s single again. I should send her a lett—mmph!

Really. You’re just going to slap your dirty hooves on my mouth. Not even use a muzzling spell. Your finesse is unparalleled.

“Oh, er, Twilight!” I exclaimed, putting down my things and trotting towards you. You had not told me you’d be dropping by unannounced, and I knew the Duchess wouldn’t take kindly to me entertaining you while she waited. I threw the Duchess a pained smile and then nudged you along. “Twilight, darling, I won’t be long. Be a dear and come back later, won’t you?”

“It’s all right, Rarity,” the Princess said suddenly, getting up and smiling. “Twilight asked me earlier today to let you have the evening off.”

I blinked at her and then at you, finding you grinning widely. “You did…?” I turned to the Duchess. “But, I…”

“Duchess! Won’t you join me for tea?” Princess Celestia said briskly. “You have to tell me more about your little encounter in Trottingham.”

The Duchess nodded effusively, and after instructing me to please be ready for her the next week, she and the Princess left, taking with them the dastardly secret of the century. I sighed a heavy sigh, taking off my glasses and placing them wherever I usually placed them. I was too distraught to fully care.

“Well, I hope you’re happy, Twilight,” I told you. “Now I’ll never know who she saw the Duke with.”

You rolled your eyes. “Tragic.”

And it really was tragic, and no, I will not get over it! It was the talk of the castle weeks later, and you completely stripped me off the pleasure of walking around before that, knowing I knew something they didn’t! Honestly, you were so inconsiderate to my plights.

“Anyway,” you said after I huffed at you, “are you ready to go?”

“Ready to go? Ready to go where?” I asked, my indignation subsiding in the face of your secrets. It was something that fascinated me about you, and still does. No matter how sure I am that I know you perfectly, you always manage to surprise me.

You hummed innocently. “You said the other day that I’ve never really told you much about my foalhood. Well...” You tilted your head to the side, nodding to the saddlebag hanging on your back. “If you’re okay with taking the eleven o’clock train, I can show you.”

“Show me?” I asked, and when I prompted for an explanation, you only instructed me to pack my things. We wouldn’t be coming back, you assured.

And you were right.

There was no coming back to the way we were after that night.

VII. Alone Together

Do you still remember the little art shop at the entrance of the Moon District? Yes, the one with the rather odd shopkeeper. It closed about a month ago, I heard. It’s a shame, I always did love it.

We lingered by it that night, too, remember? My favorite district had always been the Sun one, with all its boutiques and high-end restaurants. I only ever ventured into the Moon District to visit the art stores. Fashion is my passion, but I sometimes indulged in the more traditional artistry.

“Do you think they were painted by hoof?” you asked, admiring the symbols adorning the shop’s window panes. Black crescent moons and stars, almost like a tribute to Princess Luna herself.

“I don’t believe they were,” I replied. “They all look identical, see? They all even have the same mistake in the corner. They must have been spray-painted. No two hoof-drawn design will ever be the same.”

“Do you like to paint, then?” you asked.

“Occasionally. I would paint more if I had the time.”

You smiled. “I’m sure you will.”

You led me away from the shop, going off in a tangent about the history of spray-painting, because of course you would happen to know the history of such a thing. I couldn’t say it had ever been something of interest to me, but you spoke with such passion, I couldn’t help but be enthralled. Even now I know you had my undivided attention simply because I can’t remember what other shops we passed by that night.

Eventually, we reached our destination in the shape of The Folded Bookmark, a library that would soon enough become a recurrent location in that chapter of my life. The two-story black building was certainly interesting enough in its design: four oval windows, two glass doors with red handles, a worn-out sign depicting a, well, folded bookmark, and a white spiral clo—

What do you mean why am I describing it? Twilight Sparkle, I am telling a story here! I don’t care if you already know what it looks like! Well, fine, I won’t describe anything anymore!

“Is this it?” I asked, and you nodded.

“It was my favorite library after the Princess’s,” you said. “You can see the Royal Park Amphitheatre from the top floor.” You glance— you looked alarmed, but you already know why you were alarmed so why even bother descri—

Hm? Oh, curious, I thought you didn’t want descriptions.

You glanced at a clock, and your ears stood up in alarm. “It’s almost seven! It’s going to start without us!”

Before I could question you on what was starting without us, you rushed forwards, opening the door and gesturing for me to follow. We stepped inside, and I was overcome with the scent of old scrolls and dry ink. I remember being impressed by the size of the place, with its dozens of bookcases arranged almost like a labyrinth.

After you greeted the librarian, you finally approached me.

“What do you think?” you asked, fixing me with a...what’s the word? Seeking? Beseeching! Fixing me with a beseeching stare. You were like a filly awaiting judgement on her latest creation.

“Well…” I paused. For effect, yes. I looked around, scanning the bookshelves, the ponies walking about, and then I turned to you and smiled. “It reminds me of you.”

I thought it was a compliment, but the way you looked at me clearly showed you didn’t take it as such. Just remembering it makes me laugh. You are so painfully easy to read at times, Twilight. You didn’t say anything, but you stared at me with a furrowed brow, clearly trying to figure out whether or not I had just complimented or insulted you.

“Darling. That’s a good thing,” I said with a playful smile, and you silly filly, you practically fell to the floor with relief.

“Oh! Uhm, I knew that,” you said, and then added, “I’m glad you like it!”

Honestly, I was flattered my opinion meant so much to you! Unlike now, where I’m just old news to be brushed off when I scold you for eating too much cake.

“It’s very charming,” I said. “I can see why you’d spend your time here as a filly.”

“Oh no,” you said, and you smirked at me, and honestly, I still don’t understand how it took me so long to fall for you. In a competition for most heart-throbbing smiles, you’d win bronze, silver, gold and then some. “We’re not there yet.”

And you say you’re not one for showmareship! Wait, I said it? I would never! I have always said you’re a mare with a flair for theatrics! And what theatrics indeed as you giggled and led me up staircases and towards the second floor. We trotted past bookcases, past ponies reading and sleeping on couches, and finally ran into a large black door marked with the bolded red words: Do Not Enter.

Not ominous at all.

You tried the handle at first, but found out it was locked. You hummed. I frowned.

“Twilight, I don’t understand,” I said.

You blinked. I waited. Neither talked. Time came to a stop. What? No, I’m talking in short sentences for suspense! Will you let me tell my story, for goodness’s sake?!

The tension was high. You looked at me. I looked at you. You were beautiful. No, that is not irrelevant. Your horn crackled with magic. A clicking sound shot off. And the locked door suddenly swung open, revealing a set of spiral stairs.

“There we go!” you exclaimed.

“Twilight! You just opened it!” I whispered urgently, looking around in alarm. When you said you had a surprise, I hadn’t expected mischief!

“I did,” you said, standing up straight, proud of your wrongdoing. “It’s a pretty simple spell.”

Well! I was certainly…impressed.

“My, my, my, Twi-light Spar-kle, you scoundrel!” I whispered, stepping back and regarding you in a whole new light. I liked this rebellious streak. “I’d never thought you to be into illegal activities, but darling, I approve.” I giggled, tapped you on the nose, and stepped into the forbidden pathway. “It’s very alluring.”

To this and to my dying day, I will never forget the expression you made. It had only been a playful comment! There was nothing more to it, just a friend doing a bit of innocent flirty teasing, but stars above, your face turned twenty shades of red in record time!

“Rarity!” you gasped, appalled! Shocked! Flustered beyond belief! “I wasn’t—! I’m not into illegal activities! The librarian gave me permission to come in! Rarity!”

I ignored you in favor of trotting up the stairs. It wasn’t very nice, but I found your indignation entertaining, so I simply giggled and listened as you stomped your way behind me. I ascended the spiral staircases, and finally reached the attic, and what a sight it was indeed.

It’s still one of my favorite places in the world. The walls lined with bookcases storing all kinds of art and scientific devices; the faded paintings hanging on the walls; the mess of papers, notes and life strewn about the floor; and the glass ceiling from where you could clearly see the night sky and its plethora of stars.

I was breathless.

“This is what I wanted to show you,” you softly said, and at the moment I didn’t notice it, but you voice lacked the smugness I’d have expected of you. You weren’t amused by my awe, but rather…

I can’t find the words. Or, I can, but… It’s too corny, Twilight! Yes, even for me!

All right, let me gather my thoughts.

I could see traces of you all over the room. The half-opened books, the checklists on the walls, the stash of gems and rubies for dragons to munch on, the little couch where you read, and the unmistakeable scent of you. Fresh ink, dusty book pages, and oak wood.

It was intimate. That’s the word I want. Not intimate in a sensual or risque way, but intimate in a completely personal way. Intimate in the way that somepony opening up to you is intimate, as that was exactly what you were doing. I was being allowed to step into your world and, at that moment, I assumed I was merely there to observe it.

“Twilight, this is…”

I didn’t quite know what to say.

“Wait,” you said, and your giddy smile returned. “It gets better.”

You trotted over towards the edge of the room, your horn aglow, and one of the ceiling’s glass panes revealed itself to be window. You opened it, and the sounds of the city life entered the room. A clock appeared before you, which you squinted at.

“It should be starting any minute now,” you informed.

“What will be starting?” I asked, disconcerted.

You simply set the clock down on a table and tilted your head. “Remember what I said earlier? That we’re right next to the Grand Park’s amphitheater? Well… They hold classical music concerts every Thursday.”

And just like magic, or more likely you’d somehow managed to plan it down to the second, the sound of effusive clapping followed, and moments later, classical music filled the room, like a distant, soothing hum.

“I would come here every Thursday,” you said. “To read, or work, or read.”

“And read, too?” I asked with a grin, and you laughed.

“That too,” you said, and I found myself, I think, enchanted by you. Moreso than ever before, and moreso by you than anything else that surrounded you. You weren’t Twilight, Princess Celestia’s student. You weren’t Twilight, a mare brought up in Canterlot.

You were you; smart, and silly, sharp, and witty.

It didn’t matter whether it was romantic or not, I was enchanted by you and this world that was yours and yours alone.

“I have something for you,” you said, drawing me out of my reveries. You opened up a nearby closet and an easel and several canvases came floating out. You placed them on an open spot where the moonlight shone down upon them like a spotlight. Details, details, details that I was blind to. “I saw you sketching on a napkin when we were at Flaming Delicacies, so I thought maybe you’d like to paint on something less, uh, expendable.”

I stepped towards it, taken aback. “I…”

“I also have pencils and materials!” you continued, and a beautiful wooden box floated towards me, opening itself to reveal a plethora of brushes, oils, of pencils and chalks, of anything I could ever want. They were a bit worn, but still in very good condition. “They were mine. I’d have gotten you new ones, but the store I buy them at had run out of this model.”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do.

“I’m not…” I faltered. “I don’t know, I—”

And I thought I was generous with my actions.

“You don’t like it?” you asked suddenly, and in your eyes I saw fear. The fear I see so often in you, when you assume you’ve done wrong. The fear that is almost always followed by dozens of preemptive excuses and apologies and justifications. “I thought maybe you’d like to—! We don’t have to if you don’t want to!”

Your magic brushed the easel, and I spoke up before you could take anything away.

“No, no, I love it!” I exclaimed, grabbing the easel with my hoof. “This is wonderful! I’m just… Well, you put a lot of thought into all this! I was moved, is all! This clearly took effort!” You still seemed unconvinced, so I flipped my mane and fluttered my eyelashes. “As it should have! This was for me, after all, and I expect nothing less than perfection.”

Finally, you smiled and I’d never been happier to see you roll your eyes at me. “Right.”

“Though there is something amiss, Twilight,” I said, because I was cruel, and yes, I got a little thrill out of seeing just how fast you panicked again. Yes, I love you too.

“There is?” you asked, and a checklist appeared next to you, which you reviewed for mishaps.

“Well, yes,” I said. “Isn’t it rather rude of me to paint while I’m in your lovely company? Painting is… it’s a lengthy process, darling, and I don’t think you’ll be entertained by watching me draw the same line thirty times in a row.”

“Oh!” You sighed, relieved. “That’s all right, Rarity. I was going to work on one of my assignments. I’ll be quiet, don’t worry.”

You walked over to your chair, took off your saddlebags and then pulled out several heavy looking books. I remember you couldn’t decide on which to read before you finally settled on the thickest one, snuggled into your couch, and just like that, began to read.

I think I stared at you for about a minute until you finally looked up, your ears perking up.

“Is something wrong?” you asked.

“So, just to make sure I understand, I’m going to draw in silence, and you’re going to read in silence?” I asked, and you nodded. “I see.”

“Alone together,” you said suddenly. “It’s something I came up with Spike. We’d do our own tasks, but in the same room so we’d still have company.” You paused and looked around. “There’s some art books over by that table, if you want to look at them.” You grinned. “They might help for inspiration.”

Alone Together.

“You’re a very peculiar individual, Twilight,” I said, moving to sit behind the easel. “And before you ask, I mean that as a compliment.”

You shook your head, but rather than shoot back a reply, you again snuggled up into the couch and allowed yourself a smile. I, on the other hoof, prepared myself for the night. The music was lovely, and truthfully, there had been some ideas I’d been itching to sketch out.

Or, well, so I thought.

I believe I told you once that you stole my heart via the powers of suggestion. You weaved yourself into my life, fixing frayed seams here and there, until you were firmly tethered in my consciousness and my heart.

Maybe things could have gone differently that night. Maybe the concert might have been postponed, and the mood not been set. Maybe I wouldn’t have found you endlessly charming that night, and I’d have gone on to sketch a fabulous design for a new gown.

But I did, in fact, find you charming.

Earlier, I told you I didn’t really notice you before. Well, that night, you were the only thing I could notice. I am neither foolish nor foalish enough to presume that one falls in love at first sight, and my experience at the Gala had quickly done away with those notions altogether. There is physical attraction at first sight, I’ll give you that, but love is different. Or maybe it was different for me.

I levitated one of the art books, flipped through its pages, and yet even now I distinctly remember the impulse to look at you, to see what you were doing. Alone together, you’d said. It was difficult to grasp at first. I am a social creature at heart, I thrive off talking, interacting, bouncing off others. The only pony who I willingly subdue myself for is Fluttershy, and even then I find it hard not to talk, talk, talk.

But this was different. This was, as I said, your world, and I realized in this alone but togetherness, that you weren’t inviting me to observe, but to join.

So I did.

I put the art book down, scanned your box of wonders for a lavender pencil, and then, silently, I began to sketch out the real you, not the Twilight Sparkle model I used to design your dress. It called to me, the impulse to depict a silly little pony reading on her couch.

I was absorbed by it. By you. How absolutely cliche, but it was true. I felt so completely comfortable in your presence, enough that you became my presence.

Nearly an hour sped past before we were both pulled out of our shared worlds by the simple act of our eyes meeting. I had an excuse to keep looking at you, considering I was drawing you; but you, you just liked to look at me. That has yet to change, even now, has it, darling?

Our eyes met for a flicker of a second, and just like before, just like with the hug, my mind wondered for a second, debated if there was something more. And that time, it stayed there for more than just a second.

“How’s your assignment going?” I asked, finding I wanted to hear your voice.

“I’m about to finish in...now!” With a triumphant smile, you closed the book and placed it on a nearby table. You looked terribly pleased. “How about you? Did you find inspiration?”

Hah! If only you knew.

Frankly, if only I knew.

“I did,” I said cryptically, putting away the pencil and admiring the...mess of failed attempts I had going. I blamed it on the fact that designing dresses meant i only ever had to draw the same pose over and over again. And ponies. Who knew drawing a couch could be so difficult?

“Ooooh, can I see?” you asked, jumping off your seat and trotting towards me. You let out the cutest yelp when I magicked you back to your seat.

“Nonononon! It’s not ready yet!” I exclaimed.

I was...at the time, I told myself I simply didn’t want you to see an unfinished artwork, but, in retrospect, I was in denial over the real reason. You had put in so much effort for me, it was only right I pay it back with a beautiful piece of art.

You shot me the most piteous whine before sinking back into your couch.

“Why don’t you read me a book?” I asked as I tried drawing that forsaken couch for the sixth time.

I remember you stared at me like either I’d gone insane, or you were just now realizing you liked me, or both.

“What?”

“You’re finished with your assignment, aren’t you?” I elaborated, giving up on the damned couch and instead working on perfecting your pose. “We still have about an hour left. Why not read me a book?” I peeked my head out from behind the easel and grinned. “Especially now that I won’t fall asleep halfway through, hmm?”

Your eyes sparkled. “Really?” you asked, as though I had just granted you a long-coveted wish.

“Yes, really. Come along, maestro,” I said, and laughed as you practically threw yourself off the couch and looked around for something to read.

You were so terribly endearing. You made me smile. You still do, even when you’re driving me mad. Well, maybe not when I’m mad at you, no, but certainly when I’m mad about you, love.

Eventually, you found what you sought with a victorious “Ah-hah!” and then rushed back to the couch, wiggling yourself into an optimal reading position—in other words, snuggling against the couch like a filly, levitating the book in front of you and then clapping your hooves in excitement.

Stars above, Twilight, you were so cute. I loved you so much even when I didn’t know I loved you.

“Okay, so, right.” You licked your lips, cleared your throat, and as I continued to forever inscribe you in my canvas, you began to read.

“Where should I begin? Where is the best place? Where did it truly begin? For Her, it began a very, very long time ago, and in a different land. But for myself, it began one night on the doorstep of summer, when a visitor came to our town…”

I didn’t finish my painting that night. I didn’t let you see it either. And it weighed on my heart, which you seemed to have noticed.

“We can come back next Thursday,” you said as we walked back towards the station, your little book floating behind you. We hadn’t finished that either, and I absolutely refused to go home that night without at least getting to the confession between the protagonists. “The concert will be playing again, and you can finish it then.”

I liked that idea. I wanted it, I found; to again be in that small haven and to paint while you lingered close, reading me novels and giggling at my frustrated whines when painting was not going well.

The train was nearly empty, and we were able to secure our private cabin once again. It was late, and I could feel sleep lulling me away. I knew I would fall asleep if you read, and yet I still wanted you to do so.

I sat down first, and when you stepped in, I smiled at you. I remember patting the seat next to me. I have to know, did you not see me, or did you completely ignore me? You… You thought I was dusting off the seat?!

You’re hopeless, and I don’t understand why I’m so in love with you.

We truly are all mad.

So, as I was saying, I sat down first, and when you stepped in, you thought I was dusting off the seat and considerately sat across from me. I remember feeling like it was wrong. Like you’d invited me into your secret inner circle, and had now unceremoniously ousted me.

I remember thinking that would not do.

So, if you weren’t going to sit next to me, then I would simply have to sit next you.

I left my bag on my seat, got up, and before you could question me, I sat down besides you. You froze next to me, and I wondered for a moment if perhaps I’d overstepped my place. I made sure to leave ample space between us.

“Now, shall we continue?” I asked, eyeing your book. “You left off at the best part!”

Finally, you cleared your throat and continued, “There are moments when we make a decision without a conscious thought. Where, one moment, our whole disposition lay in a single direction, and before any change can be detected, one has done quite the opposite. I felt that I did not want to push her. I felt that these strongholds in my mind, the dreams and the blood on my collar, all of it, were not things I wanted to touch.”

You paused.

“But touch them I did.”

Touch them I did, indeed.

You continued to read, and I glanced down at the seats, at the tiny yet massive distance separating us. I thought of your world, the one you’d let me into, and even though moments ago I’d been determined on giving you space, I found myself moving closer, our coats intertwining as I leaned against you to read alongside you.

You froze again.

“Twilight?” I asked cautiously. “Is this all right?”

“Yes,” you said after a moment, and you relaxed next to me, once again submerged in our little bubble of quiet togetherness.

You continued to read, and we almost never sat apart again.

“You were you,
and I was I;
we were two
before our time.

I was yours
before I knew,
and you have always
been mine too.”

~ Lang Leav, Love & Misadventures

Author's Note

If you find any typos, please let me know (preferably via PM). Thank you!

XI-XIII

XI. Little Gestures

I didn’t say anything at first.

It didn’t feel like I needed to. Or, really, if I must be honest with you, if only because you are now mine, I didn’t want to tell you. Partly because I still was unsure of the entire thing, still didn’t quite know how to act, but also because there was a...a…

There was a secret little thrill to be had at having the upper hoof and using it to my full advantage.

It’s true, there is something exciting about being on the receiving end of somepony’s affections, of their gifts and gestures. It was something I enjoyed in my past relationships, but I don’t believe it was until you that I truly lived and breathed my element.

I don’t believe I’ve ever showered somepony with more subtle attention than I did you the first few days after ‘I knew’. You’d done so much for me, it felt imperative I do the same for you. I was flattered, enchanted by your feelings, so I wanted to make you happy with something I knew would not fail—myself.

Reading to you was only the start, my love.

I made my way towards the library, a silly smile plastered on my face. I’d finished a dress early, and though I still had a few more to go, I allowed myself a small break if only to go and take a moment for you. It is vital to note that lunchtime was only thirty minutes away.

Yes, you will see why in a minute.

I reached the large oak doors and quickly adjusted my mane in the reflection of a nearby suit of armor. Once I was satisfied with my fabulosity—yes, that is a word— I trotted to the door, took a deep breath, and then gently opened it.

I peered inside, and a devious smile swept over my face when I saw you there, your face hidden between pages of books as per the norm. Silly books! They stood nary a chance when confronted with me, did they?

“Twilight?” I called, making a show of timidly peeking in from behind the door.

The book came down, and you turned to me with pleasant surprise. “Oh! Rarity!”

“Oh, Twilight!” I replied, walking into the room much like a timid mare might when interrupting on royalty. “Darling, are you busy? I certainly don’t want to interrupt your studies. I can come at a later time, if it’s more convenient for you.”

“Oh, that’s all right, Rarity! You’re not interrupting.”

We were both, of course, lying through our teeth.

“Oh, wonderful!” I exclaimed, clapping my hooves against the ground. “I shall proceed.”

I closed the door behind me, then making my way to you and sitting right next to you. And I do mean right next to you.

I noticed a glass of milk and a plate of half-eaten cookies by the books.

“Ah! I see Nutmeg Crumb kept her promise!” I exclaimed. “Splendid.”

“What? How did you—”

I grinned. “Oh, I asked her to bring you some sweets! I went to the kitchens for a light snack earlier, and I know how absorbed you get by your studies, I had her promise me she would bring you a little something. I gather you approved of her choice?”

“I did,” you replied, a silly smile on your lips. “Very much.”

“What are you working on, by the by?” I asked curiously, peering at whatever it was you were reading. I didn’t actually care, and—Darling, why are you offended? I didn’t care because you were too distracting, obviously! How could you ever doubt me? Me, who loves you! Me, who adores you! Me, who could never leave you even if I tried, and who will spend the rest of their life with you, until the da—

All right, all right! I’m getting back to it.

Where was I?

Oh, yes.

“What are you working on?” I curiously asked, peering at whatever it was you were reading. I was otherwise distracted by your beauty to truly care, but it was important to show interest in your interests.

“Princess Celestia asked me to research the effects of Magic Thermodynamics and their uses in ancient Equestria,” you said, taking a nearby scroll and showing it to me. Before I could start to read it, however, you moved it away and stared at me expectantly. “Anyway, what do you need help with?”

“Help?” I accused, again blinking my eyes innocently, raising my hoof and pressing it to my chest. “Goodness, I don’t need help with anything.”

You faltered, cocking your head to the side, eyes flicking from one side to the other. “You don’t…?”

I smiled brilliantly, if I do say so myself. Which I do. I say so. “Oh, no, no! I didn’t come here because I needed something.” I hummed, frowning lightly. “Or, you know what? I did need something, you’re right.”

“Really? What is it?” you asked, ready to assist me with whatever ailed me.

“I needed you,” I replied simply. “To see you, I mean. And here you are! Life’s dilemmas truly aren’t as complex as one thinks they are.”

Your face turned the loveliest shade of pale red. “You needed to see me? Why?” you asked, as if your silly little brain couldn’t comprehend that I wanted to see you without some sort of ulterior motive. “Lunch is in thirty minutes. You were going to see me then.”

“Yes. And? This way, I get to see you right now and in thirty minutes! Yes, it’s true, I could have stayed back at my workshop, but considering I had a little free time, why shouldn’t I come say hello to my dearest friend, hmm? So, here I am!” I fluttered my eyelashes. “Hello, my darling.”

Twilight Sparkle, I swear to the stars, I will never again be graced with a giggle as smitten as the one you offered in that moment.

“Hi, Rarity,” you said, looking as delighted by me as I was by you. “Thank you for stopping by to visit me.”

“It was your pleasure and my honor, Twilight,” I replied, lifting my hoof and brushing back your bangs. “And now, I’ve bothered you enough.” I stepped away and headed back towards the door. “Ta-ta! See you for lunch!”

“That was fast,” you called back. “You didn’t even stay five minutes!”

I looked over my shoulder. “Now, now, my dear! You know what they say about perfect things, after all!”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s that?”

I winked at you. “Why, that they’re a rarity, of course.”

XII. Sharp Silk's Challenge

I did say that! I can’t believe you’d accuse me of embellishing the facts! What? No, this is not fact-checking, this is your lacking memory, Missy! Why, yes, I do have perfect memory, thank you very much! As I said so long ago, perfect things are a me, are they not?

I don’t care how much you groan at me, I still think I’m hysterical.

Honestly, my wit is so unappreciated.

In any case...

The sunny—yes, even the weather I remember! Now, hush you!—

Now I’ve forgotten where I was going with that sentence.

It was a sunny day in Canterlot’s streets, for every day with you was a sunny one. So really, in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t really matter if I remember what the weather was actually like or not because you defined the weather for me. How’s that for perfect memory.

“Those were the longest thirty minutes of my entire life, I tell you!”

“Really?” you asked, clearly pleased by my statement. Emboldened by it, even, as you had the courage to smugly declare, “You really did want to see me very badly, then.”

“Hm? Oh, sweetheart, don’t flatter yourself! That’s more my area of expertise. I was just famished is all,” I said with a giggle and a tap of your scrunched up nose.

“Right.”

Now, now, didn’t want you to be too full of yourself now, did we? But alas! You looked so cute, upset by my statement, I simply had to make it better.

“And I was a teensy bit excited to see you, I’ll admit,” I said, and I couldn’t help a grin when you rolled your eyes. “See! This is why it’s good you’re not perfect like me. If you were, then I wouldn’t be able to spend so much time with you. Too much perfection can be a bad thing, you know?”

“Because perfect things should be rarities,” you said matter-of-factly.

“Precisely! Best take them in small doses.”

You hummed. “There is a problem with that, though.”

“Is there now? Pray tell.”

“Well,” you said, starting to circle me much like you do when about to lecture me or be terribly smart or both. I’ll admit it’s quite attractive. “Going by your statements, which are that perfect things are rare, and you are perfect—”

“Do you contest it?” I asked cheekily and was surprised when you did not blush as I had expected, but simply smiled.

“I don’t have to, because you will in a minute,” you said coolly, and I will admit my heart skipped a beat.

“As I was saying,” you continued, still circling me like I might do my ponnyquins, “you’ve presented two statements: that perfect things should be rarities, and that you are perfect. Following that logic, you can spend time with me because I, as previously stated, am imperfect, right? Right. But then, if that’s true, then I can’t spend time with you because perfect things should be taken in small doses! So...”

You giggled and leaned in ever so close.

“The question is: are you perfect, Rarity? Because if you are, I guess we should go our separate ways, then.”

I paused.

“Well played, Twilight,” I said. “Well played.”

“Thank you.” You trotted off, looking much smugger than you deserved to be. “Come on! I want to take you to The Sunswept Café; it’ll be packed if we don’t hurry!”

We made our way towards the restaurant, and stars above, it was like nothing else existed but you. You held me completely in your hoof, and you hadn’t an inkling, Twilight! Not the faintest idea! You talked and talked, and I listened with rapt attention.

Granted, I don’t remember what we talked about, but I remember the desire to listen to you, to shower you with my attention if only because I knew you sought it.

In fact, I was so taken by you, I didn’t even notice somepony calling me until you noticed and stopped talking.

“Rarity! Rarity!”

I turned around, surprised to find Tinsel River flagging me down all the way from the table she was sitting at. Two ponies were beside her; two ponies that, as we both know, would play a role in our story.

Twilight Sparkle, what a scowl! I’d scold you for holding a grudge after so ridiculously long, but I don’t blame you. I don’t think I’m over it either.

“Who’s that?” you asked, and I gasped at your ignorance.

“That’s Tinsel River,” I hurriedly whispered as we walked towards them. “The pegasus beside her is Lace Ribbon. She’s only one of Canterlot’s most prominent upcoming young designers. And the older unicorn next to her is Sharp Silk. He’s one of Equestria’s oldest and famous designers. He’s a bit old-fashioned, I find, but he holds power. Lots of it.”

I affixed a smile on my face and waved back.

"River, darling!" I greeted. "Fancy running into you here, and with fabulous company, too!"

River smiled graciously and turned to her companions. "Lace, Sharp, this is—"

"Rarity," Sharp Silk said in that damnably contemptuous voice of his. "The ponyvillian mare Celestia hired to replace Perfect Stitch. And one of the nation's heroes."

I blushed, but you know, even then I knew. Even then I knew there was something off about his tone.

"Ah, indeed! It's a pleasure." I cleared my throat and gestured to you. "And this is—"

"Twilight Sparkle," he cut off, again. "Princess Celestia's personal student, aren't you?" A thin smile graced his lips. "And you say we're the one's keeping fabulous company."

"It's nice to meet you two," Lace Ribbon chipped in, her smile as kind as her heart—unlike others. "Tinsel was telling us about your work, Rarity."

River nodded, always a fan. "Sharp's the friend I was telling you about the other day!" she exclaimed. She turned to the elder stallion and raised an eyebrow. "He's hiring, you know? Aren't you, Sharp?"

"Goodness, are you?" I asked, and my heart skipped a beat. What? I didn't know! I didn't know what was coming to me, and so I had no choice but to be intrigued. He is a force to be feared, regardless of his… you know.

Whether you like it or not, his approval could make my career. He could shoot me from a virtually unknown designer to somepony. And the appeal of leaving Ponyville, well… I liked you, but not quite enough to dissuade my dreams.

Besides, It's not like we can go back in time and sto—

Twilight Sparkle, don't even thinkabout it! Do not! No, I don't care tha—! Twilight, I said no!

No, don't you 'fiiiiiiine' me, Missy! Honestly...

He harrumphed. "One of my star designers moved to Manehattan, so a spot has freed up to work at my offices for a year." He lifted a nearby cup of coffee and took a long sip. When he was done, he fixed me with a hard stare. "The deadline for applicants is tomorrow afternoon. Curious you didn't apply. All of the upcoming hard-working designers did."

I remember laughing nervously. Though I did not appreciate the thinly-veiled insinuation, he did have a point. I'd been… a bit too distracted by somepony else and my duties at the castle to go out and hunt for career opportunities.

"Ah, well—"

"Don't be like that, Sharp! She can absolutely do it!" River insisted, bless her. "She is a national hero, after all.”

Before I could speak up, you did.

“What are the necessary requirements for applicants to be eligible?”

“Three original designs," he said flatly. Again, his eyes burned through me. He opened his saddlebag, took out a sketchpad, some colored pencils, and opening it up to a blank page, drew three different color palettes. "Three original designs tomorrow afternoon using these colors."

I balked. "Three original designs? As in dresses?! For tomorrow?!" I gasped, before quickly composing myself and leveling my tone. "Surely, you… Well, that's quite... "

"That’s a simple task for any hardworking, talented designer," he interrupted. "Unless you don't think you have the talent for it."

You and I spoke up at the same time, both indignant. Of course I had the talent for it, we insisted, and I didn't properly register you'd talked until he turned his stare over to you and frowned. I should have seen the signs, should have known.

I didn't.

Neither did you.

And my pride was louder than both of us.

"Worry not!" I exclaimed confidently, taking the page from the sketchpad and smiling brilliantly. "You'll have those dresses tomorrow before the sun has set!"

Without another word—well, no, I obviously said goodbye, for I am not a barbarian—I trotted off, you following right behind. We headed towards the castle, and it wasn't until we were out of their sight that I turned to you.

"Twilight?" I purred, fluttering my eyelashes. "You're not terribly hungry, are you? I mean, I understand if you are, and far be it from me to keep yo—"

You shook your head and smiled. "You can just ask for my help, you know?"

XIII. The Diamonds, The Stars, and The Sun Itself

A low whirr filled the workroom, reminiscent of a growl, and to be frank, I couldn't rightly tell if it was my sewing machine or my stomach.

"I've gone mad," I said with all the nonchalance such a statement entails as I nonchalantly worked on somehow—somehow—accomplishing the mad task of making three stellar gowns in a single day. "Haven't I? I have. I've gone mad."

You did not reply, and when I glanced up, I found you fully immersed in tracing and cutting patterns from fabrics. Your nose was scrunched up in concentration, and your tongue was peeking out your mouth.

"Twilight? Twilight, darling?"

You looked up, as you should when I call you. Not because you have to, you can do whatever pleases your brilliantly gorgeous mind, but let's be honest, you can hardly resist me. So, you looked up when I called, as you should.

"Huh?"

"Twilight, I truly do appreciate your help, but aren't you supposed to be doing your research or whatever it is you do at the castle?"

"It's fine," you replied almost immediately, returning to your gaze. "Don't worry about it."

We fell back into silence. I glanced at the nearby clock and realized four hours had gone by already. Four hours, and we were barely halfway through the first dress.

That called for dramatic measures. And, yes, I did mean dramatic measures.

Letting out the loudest whine I possibly could, I stopped the machine and threw myself on my worktable, desolate, inconsolable, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

"Wha-?" You looked up, blinking owlishly at me and then moving towards me in alarm. "Rarity, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong? WHAT'S WRONG?" I asked, horrified by your ignorance of what was so clear before us. What's wrong, you'd asked! The horrors! "Twilight Sparkle, it is almost six o'clock and we have ZERO dresses! Zero! Zilch! Nothing! Nada!"

"That's not true!" you protested. "We have… Well, we have a half a dress."

"It's over, Twilight!" I said, grabbing a piece of fabric and throwing it at your face, because it was over! It was over! What awaited me now but a life of misery! What awaited me now but a shamed return to Ponyville, forsaken by those who loved me and myself and all that was fabulous and—

Dear stars, I really did go on and on, didn't I?

Your fault, might I add. You're the one who taught me how to properly catastrophize the future.

"Rarity, calm down!" you said, but how could one even be calm in such a situation like that! How, Twilight?! How, I ask of you!

"How, Twilight? How can one even be calm in a situation like this?!" I asked of you, and you simply stammered your reply because there was no being calm! "Does it look like I can do three fabulous gowns in a single night?! EVERYTHING IS RUINED! DESTROYED! MY CAREER, IN SHAMBLES! MY LIFE, WRECKED! PONYKIND, SHAMED! EQUESTR—"

"Rarity. Rarity. Rarity."

You repeated my name as I rambled on, you know, in that way you do when you think I'm being dramatic.

"Rarity, stop!" you finally exclaimed, and so I did, pressing a hoof to my chest.

"Twilight, I realize you're upset, but there's no need to raise your voice like that."

"What—? But—! I—!"

You sighed and rubbed your forehead, just like you did a moment ago.

I approached you ever so carefully, taking your hoof in mine. "Now, now, darling, you need to calm down. Are you calm?"

"...Yes, I am calm," you said.

"Fabulous." I tapped your nose. "Now, where was I? Ah yes." I cleared my throat. "EQUESTRIA, RAVAGED! THE UNIVERSE, DESTR—"

And then.

And then, you interrupted.

"Rarity! Freaking out won't help us make these dresses any faster!"

"Nothing will help us, Twilight!" I shot back in reply, and then, because I was being theatrical, and because I forgot just who exactly you were, I blurted out: "At this rate, only Princess Celestia could salvage this!"

You stared me. You stared at me for quite some time.

"You said it was almost six, didn't you?"

I was momentarily thrown off. "I… Yes? Yes! See! Ruined!"

"Rarity," you repeated, "It's almost six."

"Yes, Twilight, I know," I replied, my anger fading if only because irritation was quickly replacing it. "What is your point?"

"Court ends at six, Rarity," you said. "Princess Celestia's court. You did say she could salvage the situation, didn't you?"

And now it was my turn to stare at you as comprehension dawned on me.

"Twilight Sparkle, clearly you and I have to sit down and talk about which of the things I say should not be taken seriously when I'm being theatric."

You rolled your eyes. "Rarity! Do you want this job or not?"

"Yes, but I am not foolish and desperate enough to go to Princess Celestia and ask her to help me sew dresses, for goodness's sake!"

You smiled.

"I never said you'd be the one asking," you replied, and before I could stop you, you teleported away in a flash of magic.

The longest thirty minutes of my life went by while I waited for you to come back.

Truthfully, I actually managed to make good progress, and by the time you returned, I had three-quarters of a dress.

You opened the doors and walked in, looking terribly pleased.

“I’m back!” you announced, trotting across the room and towards a table.

I remember looking back and forth between you and the door, half-expecting Princess Celestia to stride in behind you. You said nothing else for a while, contenting yourself with re-adjusting the patterns you’d been working on, and I admit I was…disappointed.

“Twilight?” I ventured.

“She’ll be right here,” you replied.

“Ah.”

“Yep.”

And as sure as the sun rises each and every morning, golden magic pushed the door open and in strode Princess Celestia herself. Now, by this time, though I would hardly call myself the Princess’s good friend, we did get along. She’d visited my workshop often and would engage me in pleasant conversation as we shared the baked goods she’d swiped from the kitchens.

So, when she walked in, I did not freak out, as it were.

“Princess!” I stammered, putting my dress down and rushing to her. What had you said to her?! What would she think! The tailor she’d employed couldn’t even finish three measly dresses?! “Goodness, what brings you here? How was court?”

She smiled warmly. “Oh, court went as well as one could hope when dear Duchess Seedling attends,” she said.

I grimaced. “Ah… Still going on about her feud with the Duke, I see.”

The Princess walked across the room, offering her student a smile. “In any case, I did not come here to dwell on such matters. That, I think, would be better suited to discuss over cookies and tea.” She sat down next to you and then turned her gaze to me. “Twilight was telling me you must finish some dresses for Sharp Silk?”

“Er, yes!” I said, and I dearly hoped the Princess wasn’t offended. I didn’t want her to think I was trying to find something better than her employ—even if it was temporary. “He allowed me the opportunity to try and meet his submission deadline for a designer position in his company.”

Princess Celestia didn’t reply immediately.

See! Because she knew!

She didn’t immediately reply, as though she were contemplating life and death and whatever other deeply profound subjects she contemplates, and then she smiled. But she smiled the Celestia smile. It’s a bit like when you try to smile cryptically at me, except the Princess is, ah, more adept at actually being cryptic. Poker faces have never been your forté, sweetheart.

“I want to help Rarity,” you said, drawing the attention of your teacher, “but Rarity said that she feels the only way to do this is with your assistance, Princess.”

“What?! No, I never said that!” I gasped, betrayed by you. “Princess, I didn’t!”

And she laughed.

“Rarity, as flattered as I am, it has been a long time since I last sewed anything,” the Princess confessed, making a show out of seeming embarrassed, “but I would be remiss to instruct my faithful student to help others and yet not set the example myself.”

You stood up straight, looking terribly proud.

I was horrified.

“B-but, Princess! Really, I—! It’s not necessary— I mean, it might be, but—! I couldn’t ask that of you! You’re Princess Celestia!”

“I am,” she said with a mischief-filled smile, “but I am also your friend, Rarity.”

Twilight, I nearly fainted then and there. And she smiled even more! She reveled in my flustered admiration of her, the fiend! Stars, I don’t blame you for being so adoring. She’s delightful. I should stop by the castle more often for tea.

“I… I… Thank you,” I think I said. I don’t quite remember. I was quite shocked.

And then.

Dear stars, and then.

There are certain moments in life, Twilight, that you never forget. They are etched into your mind, engraved forevermore, and you think about them in the quiet of the night, wondering if they really happened or if you somehow made it all up.

There stood Princess Celestia, Ultimate of the Alicorns born out of holy song itself, mistress of the eternal sun, ruler of the Long Peace, patron of champions and sustainer of the hundred cities. There she stood, and in an action that I will never forget, spoke to me and said:

“Well, then, Rarity, Princess Celestia reporting for duty! What are my orders?”

I stared at her.

I gawked at her.

Mouth half-open, eyes wide, the entire thing.

I think I said something.

“Well.”

That’s what I said, and then she giggled.

“Well?” she repeated, and she looked down to you, “You know what they say, don’t you, my faithful student?”

And then you giggled.

“Brevity is the soul of the wit?” you offered.

“Very good! Did you know the local theatre is staging a modern adaption of Hooflet? I think you would enjoy it.”

“Really?!”

“Yes. I was allowed to watch their rehearsals. Perhaps we should attend while we wait for Rarity to speak?”

My cheeks burned. “All right, all right!” I exclaimed, and I found out just where you got your little mischievous streak from. “I can take a hint!”

And yet, before I could give orders, Celestia turned to you and flustered us both when she casually said,

“By the way, I very much approve, Twilight.”

In the end, you failed your intended friendship mission but achieved an altogether different one.

We finished the dresses, sometime at around six in the morning. Three simple, plain dresses that I privately knew and accepted would hardly get me a glowing praise from Sharp Silk, and yet I still loved them. They glowed with more love and, well, no not effort, but…warmth than anything else I could have done.

I remember Princess Luna trotted into the workroom, finding us scattered about on pillows, empty cups of coffee littered about, and three dresses laid neatly on the worktable.

“Dear sister, art thou dabbling in the art of the dress now?” she asked with a smirk.

“More like the art of the gossip,” you grumbled, sitting next to me, your body gently pressed against mine. I remember feeling tired enough that I was tempted to nuzzle you.

“Twilight, that's not gossip! It's national news! You blew up the library as a filly!”

The Princess laughed. “Now, Rarity, it was only half the library.”

Princess Luna was amused by us all and strode across the room until she was seated by the Princess.

“We feel slighted by our exclusion,” she said. “We have many an entertaining gossip regarding our dear sister.”

“What? You do not!” Celestia exclaimed, gently tapping Luna on the shoulder. “I was discreet!”

Luna laughed. “Master Starswirl differed in this opinion.”

The Princesses began to bicker, and I can’t remember their conversation because I was otherwise distracted when you finally blissfully satisfied my desires and ever so gently nuzzled me when I yawned. You pulled away eventually, but you did not move away. You were completely focused on me, a little smile on your lips, and the way you looked at me... It felt like nothing else existed for you but I.

I think we were both too tired to let our inhibitions stop our desires.

I think I wanted to kiss you.

“Darling,” I whispered, and I caressed your cheek with my hoof. “What about your work? You spent all night helping me.”

You hid a yawn. It was cute. You were cute. I was so tired, and you still looked angelic.

“It’s okay,” you said again. “Don’t worry about it.”

My face puckered into a moue of quiet dissatisfaction.

“But I do worry,” I whined. And again, I wanted to lean in and kiss you. “I want to help you too, dear.”

You gaze lowered, and your brows knitted together in thought. “Well… Maybe after you’ve handed in the designs, you can proof-read my essay?”

“Of course,” I said at once, until I thought about it for a moment and asked for clarification. “How many pages?”

“A hundred-and-twenty-three.”

“Oh, dear.”

You grinned. “Still want to help me?”

“Why, of course, silly,” I replied with a winning smile. “That’s light reading, is it not?”

And you laughed, delighted, your eyes sparkling, and I think I almost loved you. I think you wanted to kiss me, too. I wish you had. I think you were going to.

But I was too embarrassed to see if you would. Instead, I decided to lean forward and cuddle you, hiding the flush of my face by losing myself in your coat. I yawned, trying to mask it off as exhaustion, and you fell for it, allowing me to stay close as sleep drifted me away.

Even now, I wish I had kissed you. Maybe the forthcoming horrible events would have gone a very different way.

In a sea of strangersyou've longed to know me
Your life spent sailing to my shores.
The arms that yearn to someday hold me
Will ache beneath the heavy oars.

Please take your time and take it slowly
As all you do will run its course
And nothing else can take what only
Was always meant as solely yours.

~ Lang Leav, Memories

Author's Note

If you find any typos, please let me know (preferably via PM)! Thank you!

XIV

Author's Note

Me: Damn, it's been a while since I updated this. Maybe I ought to finish it and then binge-post.
Dark Me: Post now.
Me: No, listen, we've done this before and it neve-
Dark Me: HOW DARE YOU CONTINUE TO QUESTION ME

XIV

XIV. Words Spoken in Anger

Sharp Silk hated the dresses.

He hated them, and in retrospect, I can't blame him.

No, Twilight, I cannot blame him. Regardless of how much heart we put into them, they were hardly a display of my abilities. They were simple and elegant, yes, but considering the fact that the submission deadline had been announced nearly three weeks prior… well… it's natural he expected something more elaborate.

I was shamed when he critiqued them, but I was also not terribly wounded. I hadn't been looking for a job, so to not get that one would not devastate me. It had, at the moment, been nothing more but a venture, a quick bet with what I thought were low-stakes.

And then he made it personal.

He made it oh so personal the moment he brought you into the picture.

The moment he said that, clearly, I thought my 'connection' to you and Celestia surely meant I was convinced I would get an industry job not through my talent and merit, but because I was The Element of Generosity.

That just because other designers would accept somepony due to status and not talent didn't mean that he would take in a pretty face who had taken his company as a joke by submitting three jokes for dresses.

Imagine if he had known the Princess herself had helped me with him.

That, if I were truly and seriously dedicated to the industry, I would have known about the open-position the second it was announced, not the day before the vetting process ended.

That, clearly, I wasn’t serious, and that a job with Princess Celestia would not change the fact.

And it hurt me. No, that’s a lie. It devastated me, to be so bluntly told I’m, well, medio—Dearest, I know I’m not. I know, my love, trust me, this far in the game, I am very well aware I’m frankly fantastic at my job, but at the time, well…

I was starting out, and as I marched back to the castle, tears shrouding my eyes, his comments tore me apart. He was right, to an extent. If I had been serious about it, I would have known about the position opening. But, instead, my downtime in Canterlot had been almost exclusively spent on you, whi—let me finish!—which I belatedly realize was absolutely the right thing to do.

Anything that involves fawning over you is always the correct choice.

But, I was angry, and… and I‘m sure you remember what happened. Even today it continues to be a memory as painful as it was shameful.

Even now, when I think of it, I…

I remember marching into my study, indignant and furious, and finding you there, looking terribly tired but still waiting for me with two cups of coffee and that smile.

It made me even angrier. That ponies would think you were pulling strings to get me places, that my relationship to you was seemingly tainting my career with cronyism, that my status as an Element of Harmony would forever shadow my real talent, and that these things would only get worse if you and I became…

Your smile dropped when you saw me, really truly saw me.

“He loathed them,” I replied before you could ask, and I found I couldn’t bear to look at you. I wanted to be mad, I wanted to be furious, I wanted to blame you for saddling me with these feelings that so wholly consumed me.

But I knew that a single glance your way would melt my ire away.

“H-he did? I…” I could hear you moving close, and I prayed you would not try and comfort me. “Rarity, I-I’m so sorry.”

No, you aren’t I wanted to say, even though deep inside I knew you were. No, you aren’t because now I have to stay in Ponyville with you.

Remember that thought, darling. We will return to it shortly.

So, as I was saying, I said nothing at all in reply, which was a mistake, wasn’t it? I wish, now, so much later, that I had said anything, something, that would have changed fate’s design, but I did not. I intelligently elected to sit there, to brood in my misery, and to give you the…unfortunate…role of trying to cheer me up.

You were never one for tact, my love.

“Well, it’s okay, Rarity. You still have your boutique back home,” you said, and you were honestly and truly trying to cheer me up. “I’m sure other designers will want to work with you, too! Princess Celestia hired you, after all.”

In a single sentence, Twilight, you managed to tear apart the meagre barrier keeping my ire at bay. I’m not justifying myself, of course, but you must admit it was rather painfully amusing how you proved Silk right.

“No, Twilight, it’s not okay,” I snapped, finally turning to you, too blinded to see you flinch back. “That wasn’t any old cucumber sandwich! That was one of Equestria’s top designers! He could have made my career!”

“You don’t need him, Rarity,” you defended, bless you, stamping your hoof against the floor. “Your boutique in Ponyville is doing fi—”

“In Ponyville?!” I cut off, infuriated. “Ponyville isn’t Canterlot! It’s not even Manehattan! You think Ponyville knows the first damn thing about the fashion industry?!” I marched towards you, and when you stepped back, ears flattened against your head, I did not relent. “Canterlot has what I need, not Ponyville!”

“That’s not true,” you fought back, and if I had been wise, I would have relented. “Ponyville has a lot of things.”

“No, it does not,” I hissed, looking you right in the eyes, trying to convince myself more than I was trying to convince you. “There is nothing for me in Ponyville,” I said to my everything, and only then did regret seep into me at the expression that seared your face.

“Your friends are there,” you still protested, and then, with all the bravery I can only imagine it must have entailed, you added, “I’m there.”

And because I’m a fool, and because I had made my bed and yes, yes, I’d rather sleep on it than admit I was wrong, I replied, “My future is here.”

And because, my love, you are you, you took my word for it.

What? What wasn’t a compliment? ‘You are you’? Yes, that was a compliment! What do you mean it wasn’t? How do you know what I mean to say! Well, no, but—Twilight, sweetheart. stop.

Is there something wrong with the way you are? No?

Then it’s a compliment!

In any case, you drew back from me; stood tall and proud, wounded but not defeated.

“Fine,” you said coldly, and the pain in my heart when your eyes welled with tears. “I’m sorry things didn’t go well. I have to go back to my work.”

Without another word, you strode past me. You did not look back, and I could hardly blame you. You simply marched forwards, out the door, and when it closed behind me, so did tears brim around my eyes.

Only then did I realize what I had done, said, implied, and how asking for forgiveness might not be enough.

Only then, having crossed a line, did I realize a very simple fact.

I had hurt you, and I was terrified to realize that not only the barriers we’d slowly done away with would be back in place tomorrow, but you might never let them down again.

I arrived to the train station later that night, two warm teas in town, only to find you weren’t there. I stood outside, the fall breeze brushing against my coat, and I waited for you. Even then! Even after everything I’d done, I was so self-centered, I truly believed you would have waited for me as you did every time. The thought that you might have gone straight into the train did not cross my mind, and so I waited for you to arrive from the appointment or task that had so clearly kept you out late.

But you never arrived.

I stepped into the train eventually, concerned about your whereabouts, until finally I found you as I made my way across the public carriages.

You were talking to somepony. An elder mare sitting besides you, blindly squinting at you from behind her crooked pince-nez glasses as she spoke in visibly slow sentences. There were no free seats next to you, no signs that you wanted any other company, but I still came to a stop. The mare kept talking, and it wasn’t until ponies noisily entered the train a little further away that your eyes flickered towards the entrance, briefly examining the arrivals.

You were waiting for me, weren’t you? Yes, of course you were. Waiting to see me so you could focus your attention on the mare before you, pretend you hadn’t seen me at all. You wanted to spare my feelings? I suppose it would have hurt less, yes, if you didn’t have to explicitly show me you didn’t want to be with me.

But what am I, Twilight, if not a mare that demands to be seen.

The newcomers did not interest you, and though you made a move to look back at the mare, your eyes finally landed on me.

We stared at each other across the abyss, and your ears lowered. You did not scowl at me, but you did not smile either. The teas floated besides me; I vainly hoped that you would feel compelled to invite me over if only because I’d bought it for you. You would invite me over, I would make a witty remark, draw a laugh out of your lips, and then ask—no, beg—for your forgiveness.

But you didn’t invite me over.

Your eyes hardened, and you shook your head before smiling brightly at the mare besides you. I took a deep breath, and without a word to you, levitated the tea and placed it on the table nearest you. I waited for some kind of acknowledgment, but when I received none, I finally strode away and found our carriage was now occupied by a smitten couple, cuddled together.

I made my way towards your compartment once we arrived home. I thought, maybe, possibly, you’d reconsidered during the trip and would talk to me.

But I did not find you.

I only found a single untouched cup of cold tea.

I still search for you incrowds,
inempty fields and soaring clouds.
In city lights and passing cars,
on winding roads and wishing stars.

~ Lang Leav

XV - XVII

XV. The Deafening Silence

We did not talk that week.

Or, well, we did, I suppose, if you count monosyllabic greetings and thank yous for the coffee and teas as ‘talking’.

You remember what I said earlier? How I missed you so horridly those few days we were embroiled in the entire Spike affair and we barely spoke? Well, this, darling, this was much worse.

I did not know what to say, what to do, or how to make amends for the damage I’d done.

There is nothing for me in Ponyville.

That sentence haunted me the days after, repeating itself over and over as I lay miserably on my chaise longue. What a fool! What a fool I was, to slap you in the face in such a treacherous way! I read a book that week, something to distract myself from my pain, and what shame burned through me at the thrilling climax! Against all odds, the heroine and her lover forsook everything that opposed them! They rebelled against destiny, proving that nopony could extinguish their blazing love.

I thought about it so much! It consumed me, Twilight! Over and over, I saw in my mind what I should have done. I should have marched into that room with a brilliant smile, told you it was a tough meeting but I’d risen above it, and I would prove to that nasty stallion that I was talented enough to get everywhere by my own merits!

Even if he didn’t believe in me, you did, and that should have been enough.

You sat with me in the private carriage at least, which brought me some amount of comfort. It meant you did not hate me, and I hoped you were willing to talk things out, but…

What could I even say? That yes, I was willing to leave my dreams behind for you? That I would stop pursuing a life—my dreams!—in Canterlot because you’d made Ponyville your home? Now, in this moment, in retrospect, the choice is far more than obvious, but back then, well…

Even if my heart knew what it wanted, it was still daunting.

I still hesitated.

I was, if I am to be frank with anypony but you, I was afraid.

However like many things in life I’ve found, it was you who made the choice for me.

XVI. Secrets Untold

It began with Princess Celestia.

Stars above, everything begins with her, doesn’t it? Do you think she has journals where she plots out life-changing events for all her subjects simply to pass the time? She does, doesn’t she? Doesn’t she?! See! You hesitated! I wager she has a secret room in the castle filled with diagrams and flowcharts where she plans ponies’s destinies with as much detail as I’m certain Cadance matchmakes them.

Chessmaster, indeed!

Regardless, where was I? Oh, yes!

I was fitting her for a new dress—something for that one diplomatic rendez-vous with the Griffons, you remember?—and she seemed unusually quiet. She was usually chipper and ready to banter, but then…

I… Twilight, did you tell her what happened between us?

Really? Just what that oaf said? I could have sworn you said more! Or I feared it at the very least. You were her star pupil, and I had broken your heart! Then again, my poor dear, you’re easier to read than a children’s book. She no doubt saw right through you.

It wasn’t until halfway through our idle conversation, as she stood high and imposing on my dressing platform, that she finally approached the topic.

“Rarity, I hesitate to ask, but… is everything all right between you and Twilight?” She must have noticed my momentary freeze, for she quickly added, “My student is not the best at hiding what troubles her.”

I was unsure of what to say, and especially less so considering to whom I’d be detailing our fight to. I saw myself being banished from Canterlot!

“Er… Well…”

“I don’t want to pry on the details, of course,” she added as if she’d read my mind—and I wager she did! “A yes or no is fine with me.”

I swallowed, folding and unfolding the hem of her dress. “I… We had a disagreement,” I said carefully. “Sharp Silk had some very pointed remarks regarding my designs, and Twilight and I differed in what to do about them.”

“Oh dear. I’d been meaning to ask… It didn’t go well, then?”

I shook my head. “Not per se, no, but it’s old news now, Your Highness,” I replied, moving to the other side of the dress and hoping she might let the subject go. I did not want to upset her with Sharp’s insinuations, and some part of me feared she might take some sort of action.

If she did, would it not prove Sharp’s point?

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said after a pause, again resuming her earlier remark. “I asked because Twilight has been unusually quiet during our meetings, and she avoided the topic when I asked about you. As I said, it’s not my place to inquire but…” She paused, but before I could interrupt and try to end the topic, she continued like a well-placed dagger: “You mean a great deal to her.”

I did not immediately reply, and I wondered where she was going with her line of questioning. Was she intending on punishing me? Shaming me? What?

“I don’t want you to think I’m upset at you, Rarity,” she said as if she’d read my mind, which she probably had. Somehow. “I trust you and Twilight to resolve your discussions between yourselves, but…”

“I understand,” I cut-off, offering an attempt at a smile. “You can’t help but worry about her?”

She laughed softly. “I am her teacher, but I can’t help thinking of her as the closest thing I have to a daughter, and I know she cares about you very much.”

My heart twisted in my chest, and I missed you more.

“I care immensely about her, too,” I confessed, to her or myself, I wasn’t quite sure. “My daily commute would be a much lonelier affair without her there keeping me company.”

Even that week, even when I assumed you had no choice but to travel with me, I was still grateful for your silent presence.

The Princess fell silent, and as I worked away, she seemed to be lost in thought.

“Well, I’m glad Twilight made the right choice, then,” she said, sounding relieved.

“The right choice?”

Another brief pause, not even half a second long.

“To not take the chariot, of course,” she elaborated.

“To not take the chariot?” I asked, looking up at her. “Whatever do you mean?”

Princess Celestia looked down at me, inspecting me with an innocently curious gaze, which I am only now realizing was probably anything but genuinely innocent.

“Oh dear, didn’t she tell you?” she asked. “As my personal student, she’s entitled to the use of my private chariot. I’d offered it to her before our lessons began, but she told me she’d prefer taking the train.”

“She did? But, why in Equestria would she?!” I asked, blind to the obvious answer. “The train takes nearly two and a half hours to reach Canterlot! A chariot would take thirty minutes at most!”

The Princess offered me an amused glance. “I said the same, but she was very insistent about wanting to keep you company.” She giggled. “I can’t complain, either! She was only supposed to be here five hours a day, but now she’s here all day! I miss her less that way.”

I was thoroughly confused. “Five hours? But—! Princess, aren’t her lessons with you from nine to six?”

“Nine to six? Oh no, she’s only supposed to meet with me from twelve to five!” When I could say or do little else but stare, she continued, “Oh dear, I really did think you knew.”

“I… I didn’t.”

Celestia giggled, covering her mouth with a hoof. “Oops.”

Oops! Oops indeed, even though I’m certain she had it all planned out!

“Please don’t hold it against her,” she continued with a softer tone. “She’s never had somepony like you before. She was very excited for you to come work here, and only wanted to make sure you had a good time.”

“But… But why would she lie…”

“If I know Twilight, which I do very well, I know she must not have wanted to burden you with her choice. She’s, well…”

“Awkward?” I filled in, still rather stunned, still idly playing with the fabric, and Celestia laughed again.

“Awkward would be the word, yes. It’s why I didn’t insist much when she didn’t take the offer to use the chariot. I actually thought you two had a fight a few weeks ago, when she wrote me one day to ask for it.”

My eyes grew wide. That morning you didn’t come to the train station after Spike caught us! And just like that, so did facts start to add up one after another, all the hints I’d continually and persistently missed!

Why I could always find you alone in the library in the morning without fail! Why you were always waiting for me at the train station at night, even on the days I thought I’d gotten off earlier than you had! Why you didn’t say anything even as I whined every morning about having to wake up at such ungodly hours!

And that past week…

After everything I’d said and done, you could have easily left late and gone home early. You could have given me a dozen excuses that I’d have believed, and you didn’t. Even after I’d hurt you so terribly, you still elected to wake up at four in the morning and leave at eight at night just so I wouldn’t take the train alone.

My heart swelled, and I missed you so much, I thought it might die.

The Princess cleared her throat and smiled innocently, her mission of intentioned indiscretion accomplished. “You were telling me earlier about your thoughts on the upcoming gala?”

XVII. A Game of Chess

I couldn’t stop thinking about you.

As I said previously, I was afraid of truly embarking on our grand relationship, but I’d earlier reached the point in my misery where I simply could not stand the harrowing distance between us, and the Princess’s revelations only made it worse. I was mad about you, and not just with affection! I feared I’d go… Well, all right, not insane, but...frazzled at the very least if I didn’t set things right.

I found you in the library because of course I would. Would I ever find you, I don’t know, in a mane salon? Maybe the spa? Shopping? No, but a mare could have wild and impossible dreams!

I found you in the library, despondently poking away at something. You turned the pages in slow motions, and it seemed as though you were almost bored! Or, perhaps, you were rather like me, and the frigid train rides in the morning and afternoons were taking a toll on your well-being.

I peered into the room, and I saw you look up for a fraction of a second before immediately staring down at your book with extraordinary interest. Is it strange to say it was reassuring? If you really and truly didn’t care for me, you wouldn’t have made such a show at showing you didn’t care.

I stepped into the room, closing the door behind me and looking around for other ponies. I wanted privacy lest things did not go well. From the other side of the library, you furtively stole glances at me, which weren’t very furtive at all considering I noticed them, but I digress.

It wasn’t until I was beside you and politely cleared my throat that you—no, let me tell this! I don’t care if it’s embarrassing for you! I thought it was adorable!

It wasn’t until I was beside you, and I politely cleared my throat that you turned around and ‘blinked curiously’ at me.

“Oh, Rarity,” you said, closing your book and staring me down. ”I’m busy with my lessons. I can’t really talk now,” you lied through your teeth, like the beautiful deceiver you were! Lessons with Celestia! Hah!

“I won’t be long.”

You considered me a moment before relenting. “...All right. What can I help you with?”

I hesitated.

You see, I knew that I had to act with delicacy. The utmost tact, sensitivity, and diplomacy would be required to make amends with somepony of your intellect. I had to treat it like nothing more or less than a high-level game of chess.

“Twiiiiiiiiilight!” I said plaintively, making a show out of pouting, my lower lip jutting out.

Chess is dreadfully boring.

You were thrown aback. “Y-Yes?”

“Twilight, I simply cannot stand this any longer!” I continued despairingly, now moving towards the table and lying upon it and burying my face in my hooves.

“St-stand what?” you asked, now alarmed, clearly torn between being distant or fully and utterly confessing your devotion.

Yes, that’s exactly what you were feeling. Yes, I know you better than you do.

Instead, you moved closer, but not enough to bridge the gap between us. “Is something wrong?” you asked.

“Of course something’s wrong, Twilight!” I cried out, looking up at you with desolate, no doubt tear-stricken eyes. I was putting on a full show for you! “If I go another day without ingratiating myself to you again, I shan’t find the way to carry on!” I buried my face in my hooves again. “How will I carry on?! Who will show me around Canterlot?!”

“Rarity.”

“Who will regale me with tales and gossip?!”

“Rarity.”

“Who will make me laugh with her fun facts after a long day?!”

“Rarity!”

I looked up, and my heart fell when I saw a raised eyebrow match your unimpressed expression.

It seemed like I’d have to play chess after all.

“Are you done?”

“Well, to be honest, I was just getting started, but I suppose I can stop if it’s too much,” I offered.

“I’d appreciate it.”

I drew myself up and nodded severely.

Pawn to E4.

“Twiliiight,” I whined softly before sighing and offering you a look I hoped accurately reflected the regret in my heart. “Darling, I miss you.”

Your expression softened, irritation melting away and giving way to resigned pain.

You opened your mouth to reply, but it seemed as though words were scarce, so you closed it again and looked away. I remember thinking you were beautiful. I felt even more dreadful afterward, trying to find some terrible solace in the fact that you looked so very elegant and poetic when your face was marred with sorrow.

Finally, you replied.

“I miss you too,” you said, and nothing else after that. You moved your pawn, but neither attacked nor conquered and again I had to make the next move.

Bishop to C4.

“I’m sorry, Twilight, I am,” I said, sincerely and regretfully and lovingly especially. “I wasn’t lying when I said I shan’t find a way to carry on if I’m not in your good graces.”

“Right,” you replied, again moving a pawn, neither resisting nor giving in.

Queen to F3.

“Twilight,” I began, “I know I’m in no position to be asking anything from you, but…Might I ask your help with something?”

You finally looked at me, your interest piqued as it always was when somepony needed help. “Help with what?”

Queen to F7.

I moved closer still and spoke in a hushed tone. “Twilight, in the past week, I’ve tried again and again to come up with the right words to express how terribly I feel about what I said and how I treated you, but I keep coming up short.” I smiled at you. “Would you mind helping me with that?”

You observed me for a moment, took in what I’d said, and then you offered me a tentative smile. “I can go through a dictionary with you.”

Checkmate.

And yes, that is in fact a way to win at chess in four moves that Pinkie told me about last week, and before you ask, I rehearsed telling the story with chess metaphors while you were in the food carriage an hour ago.

Well, of course I know that play is difficult to actually accomplish in an actual game of chess, but I’m trying to be poetic here, darling!

Where was I? Right!

I can go through a dictionary with you, you’d said.

A sentence I never thought would bring me so much joy and relief, and yet there it was. My brilliant, giddy smile and perked ears must have had some effect on you, for a soft laugh left your lips and a sparkle from something other than tears shined in your eyes.

“I apologize, Twilight,” I said again, and your smile lessened. “Being upset by what that oaf told me did not excuse the awful things I said to you—especially considering the lengths you went to just to help me even when you had no obligation to do so.”

You frowned. “You’re my friend,” you replied as if that were obvious, as if nothing else but that was required for you to devote yourself entirely to helping me.

“I certainly didn’t act like one.” I paused. “I certainly don’t feel like one.”

You allowed that to settle for a moment. Did you agree? Disagree? I did not know, and more than that, I did not care to know.

“What did he say…?” you asked, cautiously. “You never told me accurately.”

I didn’t want to tell you. It was painful and humiliating, and the last thing I wanted was for you to know you were being accused of cronyism. Just the idea of it gave me half a mind to go and find the beast and tell him exactly what I thought of him.

However.

However, considering all I’d put you through and everything I now knew you’d done for me, you deserved to know the truth.

“He…” I licked my lips, trying to find the appropriate way to say it. “He is under the impression I’m a talentless designer who hasn’t worked hard a day in my life. Furthermore, he also believes I expect the fashion industry to award me privileges solely because of my status as an Element, as well as my ties to you and the Princess.”

“What?!” you gasped, scandalized. “He thinks—?! What?!”

Why, if you had your wings already, they’d be splayed open, feathers flying all over! It was a blessing you weren’t an alicorn yet, or else you might have gone after him!

Darling, it’s been years, there’s no point in going after him now, you silly filly. Yes, I know you want to, but we must rise above such petty acts of vengeance. Besides, I did get catharsis time ago when I was invited to be the guest of honor for Trottingham’s Winter Fashion Ball instead of him.

What wouldn’t I give to have a photograph of his expression during the announcement.

“Yes,” I replied. “As I said, it does not justify my behavior, but now you know why I was more than cross.”

You settled down somewhat, turning back to your book and flipping it open and close several times with your hoof. Eventually, you groaned and your eyes shut close.

“I’m sorry, Rarity,” you said, and I was horrified. You?! Apologizing to me?! You, who was incapable of any harm save for that one instance you lectured and scolded me for hours for having used the word irregardless.

“‘Sorry’?!” I gasped, as shocked as you were not even moments ago. I moved towards you, taking your forehoof in mine. “Darling, deareast, sweetheart, Twilight, whatever are you sorry for? Please don’t let yourself be affected by that pompous cucumber sandwich’s remarks!”

“I’m not,” you lied, not that I knew you were lying yet. You creased your forehead, swallowing down whatever nervousness held you, and elaborated with your head hung in shame, “I’m sorry for pushing you to stay in Ponyville.”

I didn’t know what to say. Of course, I understood perfectly why you’d done it, and my silence was in no ways intended to come across as tacit agreement that you had to apologize for that. I was at a loss for words simply because, well, I didn’t know what to say. To say I understand and you were right to do so would imply I wanted to stay in Ponyville with you, and…

Did I?

“I…”

You closed the book in a decisive motion and turned to me with bright pink cheeks.

“Rarity, I…”

You know how I say you don’t look at me, you analyze me? Yes, well, this time, Twilight, this time you were—I can’t even think of a word to describe the… the intensity? The intensity of your gaze. This wasn’t a smoldering gaze, it wasn’t romantic or adoring or anything but passionate.

I remember wanting to move back, such was the force your aura exuded. But I didn’t step back, too ensorcelled by you.

Stars above, she’s going to say it, I thought.

“Yes?” I somehow managed to say when you hesitated, every fiber of my being hanging by the dulcet tones of your voice. I wanted you to say it, Twilight, I wanted you to do it even if I feared it, even if it would change our friendship. I wanted you to confess simply so you would pin me against a corner and I’d finally know what I really wanted.

“I forgot my speech.”

Darling, don’t slap your forehoof against your face like that!

I blinked at you. “What?”

Poor thing, your blush covered your face in big uneven splotches like my sheets after Sweetie tried to dye them red.

“I had an entire speech memorized, and I forgot it,” you elaborated sheepishly.

I fluttered my eyelashes at you. “I do have that effect on ponies, I’m afraid,” I said, and with your laugh did your nerves fade away.

“I’m not… I’ve never had a friend like you before. Or the others!” you hastily added. “And I won’t be able to see you a lot anymore if you move here, but… If you want to find a job here, then I want to support your decision no matter what.”

A slight nod followed your statement, giving off the impression you weren’t trying to reassure me but yourself.

“Twilight, I—”

“I’m really sorry, Rarity,” you reiterated rather forcefully. Afraid of what I had to say, perhaps? “I just… I shouldn’t have said what I did. It was selfish of me to expect you to say just because Ponyville is my home now. I wanted to be here to help you achieve your dreams—not because I can give you leverage, but because I think you deserve it.”

Even if you were reciting—or trying to, at least—the sincerity and earnesty in your voice was more than overwhelming. I remember a wondrous warmth washing over me, to see how my heart came before yours in your eyes.

And you called yourself selfish.

“I… Thank you, Twilight,” I said sincerely, my warm smile shortly mirrored by your own, your ears perking up at the positive reaction. I moved back, knowing I had matters to attend to, and yet I still wanted to spend time with you now that you weren’t upset. “Shall we have lunch together today? My treat.”

A great relief seemed to wash over you. “I should be done by noon,” you said with a smile. “Same place as always?”

I grinned. “Same place as always.”

The path from you extending,
I could not see its course—
or the closer to youI was getting,
the further from youI'd walked.

For I was moving in a circle,
not a line as I had thought—
the steps I took away from you,
were taking me towards.

~ Lang Leav, Memories

Author's Note

If you find any typos, please let me know (preferably via PM)! Thank you!

XVIII - XXI

XVIII. A Talk Between Delinquents

Life works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it?

It’s such a trite expression, used by everypony so often that it’s lost any shred of meaning, and yet it’s true.

Life has a tendency, I’ve found, to give you what you want exactly at the precise moment when you don’t want it, and in a way you never wanted it. Is it a way to punish us for being demanding? Entitled? Taking things for granted? Life is a cruel prankster.

And its cruelest prank, I thought later on, was that it gave me you.

I loved you, Twilight. Not that I don’t love you now, but back then was when it started, and I held on with the last of my strength to the belief that I did not love you. I was infatuated, perhaps; I was very much taken by you, but love? No.

But I could grow to love you, I thought. Told myself. Knew. Already did.

“Good morning!”

A warm coffee floated before me, the heavenly gift from a heavenly pony. Weeks ago, it felt, I would have regarded you with dying eyes, wishing nothing more than to be back in bed, but after our fight from a week or so ago? After our fight, just the thought of spending time with you was far more effective than any amount of caffeine.

“Good morning, darling,” I purred, offering you a shamelessly smitten smile.

You see, I was no longer trying to hide it. How ironic, how cruel, don’t you think? The day I decided to take you for myself was the day you decided to let me go.

I took a sip of the coffee, slow and gentle, making a show out of it to please you, and when I was done, I sighed with content—content derived from the endeared expression you wore. You put down your saddlebag, and I noticed it was much heavier than I’d ever seen it. A few thin books were sticking out, as well as what seemed to be rather a hefty binder.

“I see the Princess hasn’t gone easy on you,” I teased. “I wager you regret being so social this weekend, darling. Fluttershy told me you asked to have dinner with her and Applejack on Friday night, and then Rainbow whined at me on Sunday that she and Pinkie spent nearly all Saturday afternoon helping you with research at the Ponyville Express and the Ponyville Chronicle.” I took another sip of my coffee. “Are you writing a research paper on what a stunning mare I am? I’m only asking because it’s curious you didn’t ask for my help at all.”

Poor dear, you blanched at my question, staring at me with wide beautiful eyes, at a loss for what to say. I assumed you thought you had offended me somehow, so rather than continuing my teasing, I allowed you some reprieve.

“Twilight, don’t look so terrified,” I said with a laugh, lifting my hoof and brushing away your bangs. “I was very busy with commissions, as you already knew, so I wouldn’t have even been able to spend time with you even if I wanted.”

Which I had wanted to, very much indeed.

“I didn’t want to be a bother,” you said quickly, still looking ever so slightly frazzled.

I thought to myself that if you were to continue being nervous, I could at least give you a proper reason
With little care or thought, I sat down beside you, leaving not an inch of space between us. I think I nuzzled you, and what a giggle I had to bite down at the delightful squeak you yourself tried to bite down.

“A-are you cold?” you asked, and if you had your wings by then, no doubt they would already have been wrapped around me.

“I was indeed, but here you are to fix that,” I replied, closing my eyes and shamelessly enjoying the fact that my words were quite physically warming you up.

You laughed softly, and rather than shoot back a witty reply, you indulged both of us by keeping me close and planting a kiss on the top of my head before nuzzling me softly. I held my breath, I remember, my cheeks flaming up. You had never been so affectionate before, never actually taken such a forward step, and I was caught by surprise. You, who had always tried to be reserved and discreet, had now boldly taken a step further as if you had nothing to lose and all to gain.

In retrospect, I see why you did it.

Acts of great courage and heart oftentimes come when we think it’s the end.

“We haven’t been to your hideout in a while, have we?”

You laughed, and I loved you more. “It’s not a hideout, Rarity.”

“Yes, it is,” I protested after taking a sip of the drink. “It’s our hideout.”

You mulled it over. “Well, for it to qualify as a hideout, we’d have to have broken a law and be hiding from law enforcement. What exactly are we being persecuted for?”

“Well, I’m being persecuted for being too beautiful.”

“Riiiight,” you said with a giggle and you nuzzled me again. “What am I being accused of, then?”

“Theft,” I replied at once.

“What did I steal?” you asked, and I made a choice.

“We should go back tonight,” I said. “The orchestra will be playing, won’t it?”

You were thrown back by the sudden topic change, but you did not question me. “Errr, yes? Yes, it’s Thursday, so they’ll be there,” you replied.

“We should go there tonight,” I repeated. “And we might also start trying to find a similar place for us to use back home after my job here is done.”

You paused. It was an almost uncomfortable pause. How obvious it seems now.

“Yeah, we should.” You paused again and pointed out, “You never told me what I stole.”

“That,” I said, “is because I intend to show you tonight, so I ask again, Twilight, shall we go back to our hideout tonight?“

I expected you to take your time, for every choice you make is not made without careful consideration. And yet, every so often, much like the choice to travel back in time or agree to embark on what might be our last adventure together, you did not have to think about your answer.

“Yes,” you said. “I’d like that.”

XIX. Lace Ribbon's Visit

Lace Ribbon was, at the time, one of Equestria’s most prominent young designers. Mind, I call her young, but she was nearly a decade older than we were, and her experience in the field showed it. A beautiful blue-coated earth pony that knew more about unicorns and pegasi than probably many of them knew about themselves. She had her own company, a stunning career to show off, and a reputation of never judging a book—or design—by its cover.

She was what I aspired to be like, even now.

I hadn’t seen Lace Ribbon again ever since our run-in with Tinsel River and Him, and so it was a surprise when she trotted into my workshop that morning with a… a sense of purpose? It was the only way to describe it, how she marched in with an ambitious gleam in her eyes.

“Hello!” she exclaimed, seeming much more at ease than our first meeting. Doubtlessly because that dev— Stars above, I really am bitter, aren’t I? I ought to work on that.

I practically tripped over myself rushing over to her, wanting to greet her properly.

“Good morning!” I greeted in a hurry, perching my glasses atop my horn. “Miss Ribbon, what an honor!”

“Oh, please, no, don’t call me that!” she said, horrified. She peered into the hallway in an almost terrified fashion, and after stepping back in and closing the door, she grimaced. “It makes me feel like I’m one of these stuffy Canterlot folk.”

“Oh goodness, we wouldn't want that, would we?” I said, unable to help a laugh when she allowed herself a sigh of relief.

“No, we wouldn’t,” she replied at once.

Once she’d composed herself, she offered me a warm smile.

“It’s nice to see you again, Rarity,” she said, and I was thrilled! She remembered me! Honestly, after my experience with Sharp Silk, any positive attention from a top designer was more than welcome. “We didn’t have much time to talk when we met.”

Anger burned me. I’d been a fool! Rather than driving both of us mad trying to make dresses for Sharp, we could have had a lovely lunch with Lace Ribbon.

I did not want to remember that awful affair, and so I was quick to move the topic along to hopefully nicer and more promising horizons.

“And yet you’re here now!” I exclaimed. I returned my glasses to their spot atop the bridge of the nose and offered her my best salesmare smile. “What can I do for you?”

Lace stepped further into the room. She put down her heavy-looking saddlebag and a wave of concern crashed through me when she frowned, taking in the entirety of my workshop. I realized only then the terrible chaos I’d been working in, and I dearly hoped she wouldn’t be put off. It was a curse, that I could only ever work in some sort of organized disaster.

“Are you working on anything right now?”

I furrowed my brow, levitating my checklist over and scanning it for my pending duties. I had a few pending commissions for some of the duchesses, but none were due until the following week.

“I am quite ahead of schedule, actually,” I said, putting my checklist back on my desk and turning to her, trying not to let my imagination and hopes get too far ahead of reality. “Why do you ask?”

She didn’t reply immediately, too busy exam—admiring one of the dresses I’d recently finished, but when she was satisfied, she turned to me with the same smile.

“I’d like to commission a dress, actually,” she said.

I gasped. “Really? But, you—” The urge to point out that whatever she made for herself would surely outshine mine was quite powerful, but I held my tongue. To say such a thing would undermine my work, and I had to remind myself that total self-confidence—or the illusion of, at least—was an integral quality of the most esteemed fashionistas.

I cleared my throat.

“It would be my honor,” I said instead, scouring through my mess for the paper where I’d scribbled down my different commission rates. “One moment, please. Allow me to fetch you my commission sheet.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” she replied almost at once, now having moved towards examining another dress.

I looked back towards her, confused. “Pardon?”

“Money won’t be a problem for me,” she elaborated. “Do you have a tissue I can wipe my hoof with?”

Quickly, I levitated one to her, which she used to wipe her hoof before touching and examining the fabric of the dress. “An Empire Line dress? Interesting. Was it your client’s request, if I can know?”

“No, it wasn’t,” I explained. “The King and Queen of Minos Kingdom are staying here for a few weeks, and King Asterion commissioned a dress for Queen Thessalis. Due to minotaurs’ particular body shape, I felt it was the perfect opportunity for an Empire Line.”

“I see.”

My heart shrunk in my chest. Had I displeased her? Given the wrong reply, perhaps?

And yet, before I could dwell too much on this, she turned around and again, she smiled widely.

“So then, do you accept?”

“Of course, of course!” I blurted out, even though I was still disconcerted by the, well, lack of price tag. I took hold of my sketchbook, flipping the pages to a blank one, after which I took my pencil and offered her an expectant stare. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

She continued to smile.

“That’s up to you, Rarity.”

Again, I blinked like a perplexed child. “Pardon?”

She strode across the room, climbing up on my dressing platform and said, “You are a designer, aren’t you? I’m sure you can come up with a dress design I’ll like. All I care about is that you explain your process, please.”

I didn’t know what to say.

Frankly, darling, I didn’t know that to think. The cynical side of me grew wary, afraid that perhaps she was intending on stealing my methods and designs. The logical, more grounded side of me rebuked that somepony of Lace Ribbon’s talent would gain nothing from trying to ‘steal’ my methods and designs. And, finally, the excitable part of me insisted that clearly she was fascinated by me and simply wanted to learn from somepony who so clearly talented beyond measure.

She spoke up before any of my three selves reached a consensus.

“I should mention this is how I do job interviews,” Lace said with all the nonchalance in the world. “Before you think I’m trying to steal your M.O.”

If I had been stunned when she walked in, well now…

“A job interview?” I all but gasped, staring at her as if she’d done no less than sprout a second head. “I—! You—! You can’t be serious!”

“I think I am,” Lace said, fixing me with an amused stare. “You made last-minute dresses for Sharp Silk’s job posting, so either you’re desperate or you’re very confident in yourself or you’ve had your head in the clouds for the past three weeks.” She giggled. “I’m guessing it’s one of the first two with a little of the third.”

To say I was mortified would be an understatement.

“I heard about how it went,” she continued, and I swear to you, the earth could have cracked open in front of me and I’d have willingly jumped in. “I’d say I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m not. I’m glad you’re not stuck with him. Silk’s more pretentious and old fashioned than Canterlot’s entire nobility combined. Do you know what he said about me?” She snorted in a very unladylike fashion. “He said I was a simple mare from Dodge Junction trying to pretend I was from Canterlot. Good thing we’re not like that, right?”

I—

Twilight, you stop laughing right this instant!

That was the most insincere apology you’ve ever given me, Sparkle.

In any case.

I was still at a loss for what to say.

“I— This is so sudden, I—”

“It’s just a job interview,” she said, her tone shifting, less teasing and more reassuring. “You haven’t been hired yet, and if you don’t want to go through with it, you don’t. I just think you could do great things, and I’d like to help you like somepony helped me once.”

She cleared her throat and struck a pose.

“I still want a dress, so it’s up to you to decide if you’re going to explain your methods or not.”

XX. The Difficult Proposal

We got along very well.

We got along alarmingly well, in fact, which was something I never would have expected would fill me with such… Not dread, that isn’t quite the word I want, but… conflict. Anxiety? Conflicting anxiety, if that’s even an existing expression, and before you say anything, I don’t actually want to know if it is or not.

I took the job interview route on a whim, out of sheer curiosity to see if I would fail or pass, and the more time went on, the more I saw myself passing with flying colors. She critiqued me, yes; she did not hold any of her punches and remarks, but her praise far outweighed these terrible things. She nodded and hummed appreciatively to most of my choices and explanations, and more than twice did her eyes widen in the way one does when learning something new.

I spoke with absolute confidence, with no hesitation or falter, and I was surprised I could do so considering the fear dredging up inside me at every growing sign that I would get the job.

Get the dream job, and have to decide between it and you.

I’d not finished the dress by the time six in the afternoon approached, but Lace did not care. If I say so myself, she was more than thoroughly impressed.

She sat on the small couch, her eyes closed as she took a long sip of the tea I’d gone and fetched from the kitchens. I remember watching her from the other side of the couch, filled with trepidation even though everything had gone perfectly. I wondered, in the back of my mind, if she was doing it on purpose. If that was her intent, to keep me in suspense until the very last moment. Perhaps I was projecting, but the thought calmed me somewhat.

When she finally finished, she put the cup down on the nearby table and breathed deeply.

“It’ll be a full-time job if you accept. Well, actually, it’s more of a highly-paid internship.”

I held my breath. There it was. Plainly stated.

“Here in Canterlot?”

“Obviously,” she replied with a smile that quickly vanished. “You would have to move here. I know you've been commuting from Ponyville, but you couldn’t do that for this. You need to be fully committed.” She paused, allowing me a moment to take this in, before continuing. ”I think you have a lot of talent, Rarity, and I really want to help you. Canterlot needs more ponies like us. Outsiders with fresh, interesting ideas.” I did not say anything, so she went on. “It would only be for a year, though.”

“Only for a year?”

She nodded firmly. “Like I said, it’s a highly-paid internship. I want to give you the chance to really learn the ropes, especially here in Canterlot. With or without my help, you’re getting places, and”--she winked at me—”better be friends and collaborators instead of rivals, right?”
“I…”

I sat back on the couch, my heart hammering in my chest. That was an opportunity like I’d never get again. It could kickstart my career, put me in a much better position in much less time than if I stayed in Ponyville.

“But… I have a boutique at home, and—”

“And we can come up with a solution,” she said. “Or you can work the weekends, too. Take fewer commissions, and deliver them then. It’ll be hard work, but hard work gets you places.”

It was more than clear that she wanted me to accept. It was baffling, really, to the point that I couldn’t find it within myself to make a conceited comment, to declare that of course, she would be more than eager to mentor me.

I thought of you.

“When would I start?”

“Well, I have another designer who’d like the job, and she’s available now, so…. You would be starting after your job with Princess Celestia ends. That’s in a few weeks, isn’t it? You can take a month or so after that to make all the arrangements you need to make, but that’s the most I can give you.”

A year away. An entire life could change in a year. An entire future could be wiped away and replaced in a year.

I thought of you again. I thought of you, and I wondered how ever would I be able to choose. I thought it was funny in a very cruel sort of way that life gave me this on the very day I intended on devoting myself to you.

Little did I know it was not life who was cruel, but you.

“Why did you choose me for this?”

She laughed. “It’s a funny story, actually,” she said. “It was through your friend Twilight.”

It was like a dagger, Twilight, like a dagger through my chest, comprised of every single remark Sharp Silk had thrown my way.

“Oh? Really? How interesting.”

I think I smiled. I might have laughed, and it must have been a humorless laugh or smile. Of course, I thought, of course it would be through her.

I felt betrayed, yet I could not fault you for trying to help.

“I saw her on Friday actually, during a lunch with the Princess and some other ponies,” she continued, clearly unaware or ignoring my stricken expression. “I knew her from the Princess, sure, but I also remembered seeing her with you. I don’t think she remembered me, though.”

Twilight, I wanted to murder you. Yes, it was that bad. It was almost as bad as if I ran into, I don’t know, Starswirl the Bearded and asked him who he was!

“It’s okay, I wasn’t offended,” she said, amused at my mortified expression. “I talked with her, and I asked her to tell me about you.”

And then.

Then, I held my breath again.

“You asked her?” I inquired, needing clarification.

“I did! I asked her how were you as far as designing went, and what she thought. It’s funny because I was expecting her to, I don’t know, gush about you just like every other pony does to build up their friends but instead she gave me the most uncomfortable stare I’ve ever gotten.”

I wanted to murder you much less at this point.

I think I laughed.

“Oh dear,” I said. “Did she really?”

Lace laughed. “Oh yes, it was pretty bad. I asked her if you were really that bad at it, and then she started to gush about you, and it was like everything she said about you, she had to remind me fifty times that she wasn’t saying it just because she was your friend.”

“I see.”

I exhaled the breath I’d been holding.

“Did… Did she by any chance tell you why Sharp Silk rejected my designs?”

She shook her head, and with great difficulty, I spoke up.

“He accused me of using my friendship with Twilight and the Princess to get jobs and connections.”

Lace blew air through her gritted teeth. “Yikes. I’d say I’m surprised, but…”

“Twilight found out, and I believe she blames herself for what happened,” I explained, and felt terribly ashamed. “When you mentioned her earlier, I confess I thought what she’d been accused of was exactly what happened with you.”

She stared at me.

She gave me the hardest stare she’d given me the entire night.

“I shouldn’t be showing you this.”

And for the third time that day, I balked at her and said, “Pardon?”

“I told her I wouldn’t,” she continued, getting up and trotting towards her saddlebag. “But I think you should see it.”

“See what?” I asked, and I think my heart skipped a beat when what did she pull out from her saddlebag but the very same binder I’d seen you carrying around earlier.

“She was driving me crazy with her insisting that she wasn’t saying all that just because she was your friend,” Lace continued as she returned to her spot on the couch, binder in tow, “so I told her to bring me a few references for me to look at today, and I’d decide based on them if I talked to you or not.” Once she was seated, she handed me the thick tome and snorted. “I don’t think she heard when I said two or three would be fine.”

There were more than twenty, Twilight. Twe—Hm? Oh, terribly sorry, let me amend my statement.

There were twenty-seven things in that binder. I opened it with trembling hooves and found before me the kind of portfolio I dreamed of doing if I had the time. Letters of recommendation from every single one of my friends and acquaintances; newspaper clippings of reviews and articles the locals papers had done about me and my work going back to my first fashion show during high school; and a color-coded photographic gallery of my work organized by style, cross-referenced by size, and reverse-indexed by fabric.

Not even I was that thorough!

My eyes teared up, and I missed you terribly. Ahhh, it was as though destiny had taken that week and decided to relentlessly bombard my heart with the extents of your devotion and care for me.

My heart swelled with affection for you.

And it also hurt.

It hurt like nothing had ever hurt within me before.

“She really wants you to succeed,” Lace said. She laughed afterward. “At this point, if you don’t want to do it for yourself, then do it for her.”

And I smiled.

It was a very painful smile, for how silly was I, thinking I’d have to choose between you and my industry dream when you…

You had already made the choice for me, it seemed.

XXI. One Last Symphony

I wanted to rush into your forelegs when I saw you later that night.

I wanted you more than ever now that the reality of losing you kissed my lips.

But I didn’t, and I wouldn’t, and I couldn’t.

I trotted past the castle gates, into this city that would be my new home if I so chose, and tears stung my eyes when I saw you at the end of the path, looking up at me with a warm smile, a beautiful blue scarf around your neck, and two cups floating beside you—not of tea, but hot chocolate, as I later found out.

A change of protocol. I wondered why you bought them rather than allowing me to do so.

A consolation? You mean, a consolation if I didn’t get the job? Ah, and a reward, then, if I had.

In retrospect, that warm hot cocoa was both. A reward for achieving my most coveted dream, and a consolation for losing the one I’d not even known I’d had until she was gone from my grasp.

“Hi, Rarity!” you exclaimed, and your voice hurt me, Twilight. You hurt me because I was losing you, and it sounds so dramatic, but stars above, it felt that way to me. It was tragic, and painful, and horrific because I knew, I felt, I feared that if I chose you over Canterlot, you would never forgive yourself.

I was miserable because you loved me so much.

“Hi, Rarity!” you exclaimed, and what could I do but smile in reply, put on a mask, and on with the show, my love.

“Well, well, well, Twilight Sparkle,” I purred, taking the drink in my magic. “Hot chocolate? What’s the occasion?”

“I just thought it would be nice for a change,” you replied, taking a sip and displaying a brand new chocolate mustache.

It was…

You know when you’re irritated at someone; truly, honestly, and sincerely irritated at someone, you reach the point where anything they do is an offense towards everything you stand for? How they can do something as natural as breathing and even to that you take offense? If there’s an opposite for that, I was feeling it for you at that moment.

It was all a muddle, a terrible vicious circle where the conflict and pain I was in made me love everything you did all the more, which in turn would make my pain and conflict even more devastating.

I thought for a moment, entertained the idea of kissing you then and there, but I didn’t.

“What about you?” you asked, and though you strove for nonchalance, it was obvious your question was premeditated, calculated and expecting a particular answer. “Anything interesting happen today?”

For a moment, I envisioned a scenario where I lied. Where I said Lace had come and I made her a dress and that was all that went on. I was never offered a job, I was never given the choice between you and my career, and I went back to Ponyville to be yours.

I never liked lying to you. Even now, we’ve seen the consequences of that, haven’t we?

“Yes, actually,” I replied, and it was difficult to smile a dazzling smile. “Lace Ribbon visited me today.”

You gasped. It was actually convincing.

“Lace Ribbon? The designer?” you asked as if you’d always know who that was, you liar! “Rarity, that’s amazing! What did she want?”

“She wanted me to make her a dress,” I replied.

“A dress?! Really? That’s great!” you continued, perhaps a bit too eagerly, but I allowed it. “Anything else? She just wanted a dress? Nothing more?” you asked, and I wondered whether acting classes would serve you well.

“She had something else to say,” I replied without much hurry, “but I can tell you about that once we’re in our hideout.”

“But—I mean—” You frowned at me, anxious. “I mean, you can tell me now! I’d like to know now.”

“And I don’t want to miss the start of the concert,” I said, moving forward and adjusting your scarf. “So, rather than protesting, shall we get going?”

We walked in silence, but we were not silent.

You weren’t, at least. Every sound you make, from your hooves against the ground, from your soft breaths, your soft hums, everything about you screamed to me, called my attention like nothing else before. You were so loud, Twilight, but not as loud as my heart.

My tail swung behind me, and before I could stop it, it swung enough that it brushed against yours. It was an intimate gesture, the act of brushing tails together, an attempt to intertwine them. Now, as I think back, I did it because I wanted you to react.

I wanted you to confess, I wanted to push you over the edge, to make you go back on your decision and declare your feelings.

I feel so… I feel so silly now! Now, as I tell you this, I can see why I was called dramatic! It was so clear, it was so obvious my heart yearned for you, I should have spared myself the drama and made my choice.

But I also wanted the job.

I wanted my future, and to have both that and you seemed impossible. It felt impossible. You, living in Ponyville? Me, in Canterlot? I was frightened by the distance, by the daunting task of trying to have a relationship where we would only see and talk to each other, what, once a week if we were lucky? If one of us was willing or could take the train during the weekends? If our lives and jobs even permitted it?

What if you met somepony else? What if I met somepony else?

What if, what if, what if.

Did you sense something was wrong? I felt so, at least, for you moved closer to me as we walked and asked me if I was cold. I don’t remember what I replied. I don’t remember much of what I said or thought beyond the fact that I wished you were closer.

We finally reached the Folded Bookmark.

“Here we are,” I said.

“Here we are,” you repeated.

And there we were, afraid to continue and afraid to go back.

“Shall we, then?” I asked, stepping forward and opening the door, twisting the two red handles of doors I was crossing for the last few times, regardless of what I decided.

The last few times we’d come, we took our time going up. I looked around for interesting books while you spoke with the librarian; you’d return some books while I entertained myself with looking at my reflection in the great oval mirror by the entrance.

This time, however, we did not dwell on distractions.

We entered the quiet library and I followed you through the labyrinth of books, wishing it were so easy to navigate the chaos of emotions that made up my feelings for you. You were smiling, and I was shocked by it. Earlier before I’d accused you of terrible acting, yet here before me was a perfect mask decorating your face.

Surely you knew what had happened. Surely you expected I got the job offer, for I am me and I am perfect in most everything I do. Surely you knew, and so I could not understand how you could so easily put on a facade of earnest content.

Did you not love me anymore? Had you given up on me that painfully easily? Was I not worth fighting for?

Darling, of course I know now you wanted to, but back then, I was so blind, Twilight. I was blind to the extent of the love you held for me, and goodness, even now, years later, I’ve only just started to see it.

You are not one for half-measures, Twilight Sparkle.

We reached the door to the attic, the words DO NOT ENTER somehow seeming more daunting than ever before. We paused before it, and you seemed to hesitate, your mask slipping away for a moment.

I didn’t think I’d be able to take it if it did.

“Well?” I asked, allowing myself a smirk. “Shall you do us the honor of breaking and entering, Miss Sparkle?”

“Breaking and entering into our own hideout?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Ah, so then you admit it is a hideout,” I teased, and I giggled when you did as well.

“Okay, smarty-pants,” you said, your horn glowing, and the sound of the door unlocking promptly following it. It swung open and you stepped back, allowing me first passage.

“Now, as I was saying about stealing Princess Celestia’s crown jewels,” I loudly said, slowly moving up the spiral staircase, “I think it would be much more interesting if we do it while she’s still wearing them. I’ll seduce her, and then you steal them while she’s busy with me.”

Your gasp echoed into the room. “Rarity!”

I stifled a giggle and called out, “What? Oh, terribly sorry! You’ll seduce her, then?”

“R-RARITY!” you screeched, scandalized, and I let out the most unrefined cackle as I rushed up the stairs before you could catch up and kill me.

I stepped into the room and I felt serene for a precious moment in time. This haven that had once been yours was mine as well now, if only because it was so distinctly you—and did I not love you? I moved further ahead, looking around to see if all was as we’d left it, but more importantly, I was interested in finding my unfinished painting.

To my immense relief, it was still covered with a sheet, and the pins holding it down were still placed in the same position I’d left them. You walked into the room a moment later, and I could hardly help a smitten laugh at your still-horrified expression.

“I can’t believe you said that to me,” you said, tonelessly.

I tried so hard to look composed but failed utterly. “What part, dearest? The part about stealing the crown jewels, or the part about seduci—”

“RARITY.”

You were so flustered, Twilight! You looked utterly appalled and adorable, your cheeks red and ears pressed against your head, and I loved you, and I said as much.

“I love you too, darling,” I said with a flutter of my eyelashes, and I saw you stop for a moment.

You didn’t think I meant it, did you? No, you didn’t, and a second later you smiled and rolled your eyes, moving towards the center of the room. If only you knew! I had admittedly said it in a teasing way, like a friend might say to another, but stars, some part of me meant it. Some part of me meant it, and that same part wished you hadn’t taken it as a friendly tease.

You trotted towards the edge of the room, your horn aglow. I watched as you opened the ceiling window, and as if your magic itself were the conductor, distant claps echoed into the room and thusly followed the sound of classical music, drifting into our little haven.

Neither of us quite knew what to say.

An awkward silence permeated the room, and rather than wait and see what you did, see if you inquired about the job, I moved to my painting and hid behind it. I heard you moving around, take your book and sit on your couch, and do or say nothing else.

I removed the cover from the painting and found myself at an unfinished painting of you. The faint brush strokes starting to fill in the messy sketch of a lovely content unicorn reading her book. You seemed so calm in my painting, so relaxed and pleased, that I found I did not want to look at the real you. I couldn’t bear to peek from behind the canvas and find out if you looked as I felt.

So I did not.

I took the oil paintings, began to mix and mix on the palette, and carefully and lovingly filled your contour with colors and life.

And I waited.

I waited for you to say something. Wondered if you even wanted to say something. Gone was our little dynamic, our Alone Togetherness, and I felt myself being eaten alive by the anticipation of the question I feared. Who would talk first? Who would bring the subject up first and get on with the show? Who would end this dance we danced in an attempt to delay pain?

“What else did Lace say?”

My breath caught in my throat at the sound of your voice. My brush, marred with lavender oils, hovered over your barrel. The impul—no, the need—to look at you suffocated me, to put expressions and emotions to a question asked so calmly and tonelessly.

“Rarity?” you called out when I did not reply for a minute, and I swore I heard your voice tremble. Like this was something you did not want to do, either.

“Yes?” I called out in a very cowardly fashion. I was so afraid to hurt you! And I was afraid of it all.

“What else did Lace Ribbon say?” you repeated. “You said something else happened?”

Brush stroked canvas, and your foreleg sprung to colorful life.

“Well,” I said enthusiastically, trying to remember the fact that I’d been personally selected by one of Equestria’s top designers, “she offered me a job! Can you believe it? I have until Wednesday to accept.”

“Really?! Rarity, that’s great! You’re going to accept, right?” you exclaimed, and your voice subdued, and Princesses, I wanted to look at you. “That’s really great,” you said quietly and nothing more.

We fell into a haunting silence again.

“Well? Tell me about it!” you prompted after a moment, and it hurt that you were eager, that you sounded excited.

But what had I been expecting? That you’d rush to me, beg me not to take it and stay in Ponyville? You’d done that before, in your own way, and hadn’t I lashed out at you in reply?

How terrible, to get just what I wanted.

“It’ll be a year-long job. An internship of sorts, she said,” I replied, trying to focus on illustrating the rest of your body. “I’d have to move here, however.”

“Move here?”

“Yes, and I would begin in about a month or so.”

That damned silence again, only seconds long at most but eternal in my heart.

“Oh. That’s very soon…”

“Yes, it is.” I paused. “I’ll have to really think this through.”

There was a lot to think through. To leave my boutique behind, to leave my family and my friends. Just the thought of having to break the news to Fluttershy or Sweetie brought me heartache, and yet… had they not already given their tacit blessing? If they helped create that portfolio, then surely it meant they knew what could happen, and…

We didn’t speak again for the next few hours. You read, and I painted, and we listened only to the sound of the distant orchestra up until it stopped and only the sounds of the city could be heard.

I didn’t immediately announce it when I finished the painting. I put the paintings away neatly and quietly, and finally, I peered past the canvas. You were still on your couch, immersed in a book, and yet there was no smile to be found on your lips.

I hoped to fix that immediately.

I moved away from the painting in a very slow and deliberate fashion, moving to the very center of the room and staring up at the glass ceiling. I could see the stars speckled across the night sky, and I remembered you once mentioned your habit of lying down and staring up at the stars when you were a filly.

My gaze wandered the room and I spotted a blanket tucked away inside a bookcase. I levitated it over and only when I spread it out in the center of the room did you finally look up.

“Rarity?” you asked, watching me float some pillows and place them atop the blanket. “What are you doing?”

“I finished my painting,” I said, moving back to admire it, “so I think I’ve earned myself a rest.”

You practically dropped your book, you were so excited. “You finished?”

“Yes,” I replied, peeking at you from behind it. “You’re welcome to look at it. I’d love to hear your feedback.”

Without a moment of hesitation, you jumped off the couch and practically galloped over, rambling on about what dress I’d designed, and what technique; many things that all faded into silence the moment you were beside me and saw yourself as my work of art.

“Well?” I prompted, trying to keep my smile measured. “What do you think?”

You cried.

Yes, you did! Well, no, not great earth-shattering sobs as you should have, because it was that wonderful of a painting, but your eyes teared up, and admittedly mine did as well.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered.

“It is, isn’t it?” I replied in kind, admiring my muse—and not the one on the canvas, mind you. “It certainly helped having such an inspiring pony to work off. Maybe I ought to strive to be a painter rather than a designer.”

“You should take the job, Rarity. You deserve it.”

I felt a great weight lifted off my heart, yet I did not feel relief. I walked away and lied down on my side in the middle of the room, and when you gazed at me, I patted the spot beside me. You considered it a moment, but when I extended my foreleg towards you, you did not deny me.

You cuddled against me, your cheeks rosy, and then followed my gaze when I looked up at the twinkling stars. The air felt heavy with words said and words unsaid, with affection revealed and affection hidden.

“I suppose this means we won’t be seducing Celestia tonight?”

You laughed, and I swear I thought your eyes would roll back into your head. We settled into silence again, and I continued to speak.

“Do you think she’s ever been in love?”

“The Princess?” you asked, and your brow creased. “I… I don’t know? She’s never told me.”

“It can’t be easy,” I said, and…

And…

…

…

Stars.

Yes, yes, I’m going! Give me a moment. So, we continued looking at the stars, and you cudd—What about Celestia? I… Darling, it’s not— But—

Fine. Fine!

“It can’t be easy,” I said, and…

And you regarded me with a curious stare. “What do you mean?”

“She’s immortal, isn’t she? Or long-lived, at least,” I said. “Can you imagine falling in love with somepony you will outlive? Or the reverse, knowing your lover will outlive you? I don’t think I could handle it.”

“Even if you love them?” you asked, as if somehow even then you knew, and I…

I…

Darling, heavens, my love, don’t give me that look! I’m not crying! I’m… I’m simply stunned by your beauty, clearly. No, Twilight, it’s fine, please, I want to finish the story.

“I don’t know,” I said, and I moved towards you and nuzzled you as if even then I knew. I closed my eyes and felt tired, and heavy, and sad, and everything all at once.

All I wanted was to be with you in our little haven and pretend life and love were easy.

We fell asleep together, do you remember? We did not care for the train, to leave the library, to leave our hideout; all we cared for was to spend one last night together.

“I’ll miss you,” I said as I drifted into your embrace.

“I’ll miss you, too,” you replied as you held me close.

And I never told you what you stole, but I think deep inside, you already knew.

There is a line
I’m yet to sever—
it goes from me
to you.

There was a time
you swore forever,
And I am captive
to its pull.

If you were kind,
you’d cut the tether—
but I must ask you
to be cruel.

~ Lang Leav, Lullabies

Author's Note

If you find any typos, please let me know, preferably via PM! Thank youuu!

Art by the wonderful lilfunkman.

XXII - XXIV

XXII. Emergency Confession Protocol #8

By the time Monday morning came, I’d yet to arrive at a decision. It was hard to decide in a week if one was willing to change their lives so drastically. I only properly told Fluttershy about it, the trip and the job offer and the moving, and she is so very intelligent, Fluttershy. She hides it, but she is, and you can imagine how I nearly choked on my tea when she asked if I was hesitating because of my feelings for you.

“Oh dear! Was it truly that obvious?!” I exclaimed, aghast.

I remember how she laughed. Nopony believes me, for nopony ever sees Fluttershy in such a relaxed state, but she is a merciless tease, I tell you! She told me we were both obvious about it if you knew how to look, and that gave me some small amount of comfort.

She and I talked, and talked, and talked.

And I could not make up my mind.

For countless weeks, you had secretly made arrangements to spend time with me. All those seemingly insignificant trips, all those moments I hadn't bothered to remember because they weren't important. I’d been safely deluded into thinking you weren’t really there because you wanted to be, but because it was just another pony’s daily commute.

At the dawn of the end, I wished I’d paid more attention. I wish I hadn’t fallen asleep on you when you read to me. I wished so very many things, wished I knew how special every moment had been, and it struck me that you’d never mentioned it before.

You could have easily thrown all those trips right back at me when I lashed out, but you didn’t. You didn’t, you didn’t, you didn't because you were far kinder and more generous than I could ever hope to be. Real generosity was the one where the altruist didn't want or expect anything in return. Real generosity was you waking up three hours early and getting home four hours late so that I would never have to travel alone. Real generosity was you ensuring I accomplished my dreams at the cost of your heart.

It was snowing that morning.

The winter winds brushed my coat as I trotted towards the station, the first rays of morning light courageously trying to counter winter’s embrace and provide whatever warmth they could. My scarf felt tight around my neck and I watched the snow sink under my hooves with each step I took.

Snowflakes fell all around me and reminded me of the thoughts in my head, so complex and intricate when studied from up close yet so simple when merely observed from afar. A snowflake for our train rides every morning and every night; another for the binder you’d made that helped achieve my dreams; and yet another especially beautiful snowflake for our little attic where the world existed entirely for you and I. Three snowflakes taken from a larger number that, when observed all at once, melted together into a white blanket of snow much like the blanket of affection you’d secretly covered me with.

The frosty grass beneath my hooves became cold cement as I stepped inside the train station, the voices of early commuters making their way into my ears.

Yet none lovelier than yours.

“Rarity!”

There you were, looking tres chic in baby-blue booties and scarf, and when I hurried to you, I was concerned to see you did not look your best. There were great bags under your eyes, and your mane was unkempt—the tell-all signs of somepony who stayed up reading books far too late into the night.

You also forgot the coffee.

“I forgot the coffee,” you said, or rather, yawned. Your ears folded down. “I had to stay up all night studying a law book for my meeting at nine.”

Your meeting at nine! You little liar, I thought.

“Oh? A meeting with the Princess?” I innocently asked, and you nodded in reply, another yawn escaping your lips. “I was planning on sleeping on the train, but…” You groaned. “That never really works out.”

You were so cute. You were so tired. I knew you were never going to come clean about what you did, so I decided to do so for you.

I also, as you know, had terrible timing.

“Twilight, sweetheart,” I said, lifting my hoof and brushing it against your cheek. “It’s perfectly alright to go back home to sleep. As much as I adore your company, I’d rather you get your well-deserved rest. I promise I can handle another week or two of traveling alone by train.”

You blinked. “What do you mean?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, looking genuinely confused.

Ah, Twilight, I thought, resisting the urge to playfully roll my eyes. Feigning ignorance until the bitter end, are we?

I smiled mischievously at you. “Twilight, you don’t have to pretend anymore. I’m afraid that Princess Celestia accidentally told me your little secret.” I moved my hoof away from your cheek and tapped your nose. “I was very surprised when she told me she’d only requested you come from twelve to five.”

“She what?!” you exclaimed, cheeks turning several shades of delightful red in a fraction of a second. You looked absolutely mortified by the revelation! Burying your face in your hooves and groaning! I admit I was shamelessly delighted. After a moment, you took back your hooves and gulped down, cheeks still burning brightly. “R-Rarity, listen, I… I..”

“Twilight Sparkle, calm down,” I said, giggling lightly, brushing away your bangs so I could admire your lovely face. “Why in Equestria are you acting as if though it’s something to be ashamed of? I personally think that you’ve been excessively nice for bothering to keep me company. And, let’s not forget your astounding patience when faced with me and my tirades at seven in the morning regarding the future of the fashion industry.”

“But it was never a bother, Rarity,” you insisted, poor thing. “I’d gladly listen to your tirades at any time!”

But I was adamant. And I also might have been enjoying you shamelessly declaring your devotion to me a bit tooooo much.

“Nevertheless, Twilight, as fascinating as you might have found them, the point still stands that you were under no obligation to listen to them. I really can’t thank you enough for what you did and using valuable hours of your time on me, especially considering how nervous I was those first few days.”

“But I didn’t do it just because you were nervous, Rarity. I mean, sure, the first week I thought it might be nice for you to have company, but I did it for… me… too.” Your exhaustion had faded away completely now, your eyes pressed firmly shut, and I took a breath. “Rarity, I…”

Here it comes, I thought.

“Yes, Twilight?”

Twilight.

You know, as I’ve been telling this story, I’ve tried to really and truly pinpoint the moment where it happened. The second where I can truly and honestly say that I truly fell in love with you—where the thin line between severe infatuation and true love was crossed.

I expected a confession. I expected you to stammer your way through it, to blurt it out in broken sentences, I don’t know, I expected a very many things.

I did not expect you to ask me to wait a minute, and as I watched you riffling inside your saddlebag, I did not expect you to nervously take out a block of about thirty white cue cards, the words “EMERGENCY CONFESSION PROTOCOL #8” branded in red on the back of each one.

“I lov— like spending time with you, and we’ve been so busy lately that I thought we’d be able to spend more time together in Canterlot, which is why I was so happy the Princess asked me to take more lessons, but even there in Canterlot we’d both too busy!” You switched to the next cue card. “S-So I realized the train rides would be the only times we could really sit down and talk, and I thought you would like to have a friend but—”

Switched it again.

“But then the entire thing with Sharp Silk happened, and I just really didn’t want you to leave Ponyville, because I… becauseanywayitdoesn’tmatter BUT. Uhm. Wa-wait. This one isn’t from this set.” You frowned, put a card away and then continued. “BUT I also want you to be happy because I know your career is important to you, and you’re so talented, and I don’t want you to leave, but I want you to work for Lace Ribbon, and I’m going to miss you so much, and I know this is weird because we’ve only been friends for seven months and seventeen days, and I don’t know if you even like mares, butIreallylikeyouandIhopethat’sfine.”

You finished with a great big breath of air, staring at the floor below you.

I, on the other hoof, simply stood there, mouth half-open, taking in what had just happened.

I knew at that moment, Twilight Sparkle, that you were the single most hopeless pony I’d ever met, and I also knew that I was hopelessly and desperately in love.

If I did not spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy, I would never be able to be happy myself.

“Twilight?”

You looked up at me, still as a marble statue, the card frozen in mid-air, and the blood draining from your face. You looked at me as though I were Celestia herself come down to hand judgment on an assignment.

“Y-Yes?”

I licked my lips.

“Twilight, do you have a protocol prepared for what to do if I kiss you?”

To my dying day, I will never forget the look on your face.

“No,” you squeaked. “Only for me kissing you.”

“Splendid,” I said. “Takes notes then, darling.”

I did not allow myself to hesitate. I simply did what came naturally and move forward, silencing your adorable noise of surprise by pressing my lips against yours, my hoof finding its place on your chest. Goodness, it felt like an eternity before you did something. Yes, I know you were shocked, but I started to wonder if perhaps I’d acted too fast. It wasn’t really a kiss so much as our lips being pressed together?

And, as fate would have it, just as you reacted and you leaned in, conceding into what we both wanted, the train’s whistle filled the air and, just as fast as it had started, I tore myself from you and rushed away, galloping past the conductor and into the train, the train door closing behind me moments later.

Of course that was unnecessarily dramatic of me! What were you expecting?!

I moved in a hurry to our cabin and once I was there, once I was completely alone, I collapsed on the seat in a fit of giggles. I thought I would never feel as giddy in my entire life, until I looked out the window and was proven terribly wrong.

There you stood, in the exact same position as I’d left you. Ha! Now you were awake, weren’t you? Or, considering what had happened, were you questioning if you might still be dreaming? Regardless, I watched you through the window, my heart bursting in my chest when I saw you fall onto your hindlegs and cover your face with your forehooves.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it during the rest of the trip.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and how I couldn’t wait to see you later.

The train ride went by faster than it ever had, in fact, and when I stepped out into Canterlot’s station, I took in a breath of air. An entire new world was waiting for us.

As were four royal guards, looking around the station with narrowed eyes.

“Lady Rarity!” one of them called, flagging me down when he caught sight of me.

“Hello!” I greeted brightly. Perhaps they’d recognized me from the castle? “Is everything all right?”

"Er, yes, Lady Rarity, but…” He looked past me with an unsettled expression, towards the crowd descending the train. “Is Lady Twilight with you?”

I froze.

“...Twilight?” I slowly asked.

“Yes,” another guard said, looking more than concerned. “She has an appointment in an hour with Princess Luna and the Saddle Arabian monarchs. We were supposed to go with her to escort the King and Queen.”

I smiled thinly. I think I wanted to die.

“I see.”

XXIII. A Dashing Arrival

“Where is she?!”

Princess Luna’s furious voice boomed throughout the entire castle as I sat there listening to her incensed rant. She strode in circles around me, venting her fury towards you at me. I could have easily made up an excuse and left, but since I was somewh—yes, fine, completely responsible, I felt obligated to sit there and give the grumpy, exhausted alicorn somepony to yell at.

“Princess, I’m sure something important came up,” I said.

“It is ten in the morn! We should be asleep!” she shot back. “She is making the King and Queen wait! This is an offense worthy of treason!”

I could see it now. The kingdom ravaged by war and famine, misery and destruction, and all because of a single lethal kiss. It was horrific, but it would make a fantastic story to tell the war survivors.

“Maybe she sent Princess Celestia a scr—”

“My sister is attending to the Minos king and queen!”

I debated telling her. Maybe if I told her, she would direct her wrath at me and not you, and yes, I might have to go into exile, banished forever due to an act of love and passion, but if one of us was going to be smited by Princess Luna, I’d rather it be me than you.

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself enough to shamefully confess until a distant yell distracted me.

“OPEN THE DOOR! THEY’RE GOING TO CRASH INTO IT!”

We watched as a guard by the front door quickly did as instructed, and what a shock when Rainbow Dash crashed into the room, you clutched to her back as you both slammed against the floor and rolled halfway across the main hall, loudly crashing against a suit of armor.

“I’M HERE!’ you gasped, standing up and stumbling around like a lady who indulged in one too many cocktails. “I made it! I made it!”

“You’re welcome…” Rainbow groaned, still sprawled on the floor, trying to compose what was left of her bearing.

“TWILIGHT SPARKLE!” Princess Luna boomed, slamming her hoof against the floor. “You are nearly an hour late!”

“I-I know, I’m sorry!” you stammered, terrified. “I was just—! I had—!” You looked around as you tried to come up with an excuse, and you failed miserably to do so when your eyes settled on me and your burst into a shamelessly giddy smile.

“TWILIGHT SPARKLE, IS THIS AMUSING TO YOU?!”

“N-No, no! Please, no, it’s not, no no! I’m sorry!”

I was staring at the wall. It was a delightful wall. White and white and delightful. I was considering taking up Interior Decorating, such was the beauty of that wall.

“Very well. We will bring the King and Queen, and you will meet with us in five minutes in the throne room,” I heard Princess Luna say.

“Y-Yes!”

By the time the Princess had left, Rainbow was already beside me, rubbing her doubtless throbbing head.

“Hey, Rares,” she said.

“Rainbow,” I replied, looking her over and trying not to look at you as you approached us. “Quite the entrance.”

“Yeah, I’ve done better,” she said. “Still wished somepony hadn’t missed her dumb train!”

“I’m sorry, Rainbow. I really owe you one,” you said with a breath of relief.

Rainbow snorted. “One? You owe me fifty, Egghead! I got you here in less than two hours!”

“I know, I know,” you replied while I took in the lovely colors of Rainbow’s mane until you cleared your throat. “Hi, Rarity!”

I turned to you, smiling thinly and finding myself confronted with a rather extraordinary grin.

“Twilight. Good morning,” I said. “How are you?”

“Me? Oh, I’m great. I’m really great, Rarity. Thank you for asking,” you replied, leaning in with all the confidence you did not deserve. “How are you?”

“I’m all right.”

“Just all right?” you continued.

My cheeks flushed, and I discovered that if I found you alluring before, this sudden burst of confidence in your attitude was, well… I liked it, and it embarrassed me how much.

“Yes, just all right,” I replied coolly.

“Are you su—”

“Hey!” Rainbow snapped, smacking you on the shoulder. “I’m the one who smashed against a wall, and I ain’t seeing nopony asking me how I am!”

You turned to her with that same damn grin. “Oh, Rainbow, I’m sorry! How are you?”

Rainbow scoffed. “Awesome, duh. You should already know that.”

“I should, and I’m sorry I didn’t,” you replied before turning back to me. “Rarity! Anything interesting happen today?”

I smiled at you, tilting my head to the side. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed it’s been ten minutes already?”

You blanched. “What?!” you gasped, rushing off into the depths of the castle.

“Geez,” Rainbow said. “What’s her deal?”

“Who knows, Rainbow darling,” I replied, walking off with a shameless grin of my own, “who knows.”

XXIV. The First Train Home

I did not see you again for the rest of the day.

Rainbow Dash went home halfway through the day, which might have been partly at my insistence. She’d wanted to stay all day and take the train with us, and I knew that if you and I did not elaborate on our intimate encounte—

What?

No! Elaborate means talk, not making out! Goodness, I do have some control over my hormones! Yes, I do! And oh ho ho, you are one to talk, Miss Let’s-Make-Out-In-Our-Box-At-The-Theatre!

Now, as I was saying, I knew that it was imperative you and I discussed our intimate encounter, mostly because yes, alright, I would not mind terribly if it repeated itself again. Your earlier display of confidence was proof enough that you had enjoyed it decently enough, as you should because we’re both magnificent kissers.

Especially you.

I think.

You know, I need to make sure. Can you come closer?

Hm.

I might need to test it again. Come here.

Hm.

I think a thir—All right, all right! It was for science, I’ll have you know, but I suppose it’s your loss!

I didn’t know whether to wait outside for you or not. In truth, I was still rather embarrassed by the events of earlier, and I… All right, yes! Your earlier display when we met again did do something to my hormones! It was… I’d once imagined what it would be like, to be the target of the almost arrogant confidence you show when you think you’re right, and I am a romantic at heart, Twilight. I will seduce, yes, but ultimately I want to be courted. I’m the one who wants to swoon in somepony’s forelegs.

And, dear stars, did you court me.

I sat by the train station, the two cups of tea beside me, watching with interest as a rather elderly lady yelled at her poor aide, until I heard your voice behind me, sending shivers down my spine.

“Hi, Rarity,” you said, and I bit down on my lip.

I did not turn back.

“Twilight Sparkle,” I replied, levitating your tea above my head. “Fancy meeting you here.”

It’s strange how everything felt different now. Our magic auras brushed when you took your cup, and though this had happened so many times before, it was… it was electric that time. It was like you purposefully lingered there, meshing them together, until I was the one to take my magic back before I got too hot.

“Thank you,” you said, moving forwards and sitting beside me. Your tail brushed against mine, teasing and gentle, and I don’t know if I was more horrified at the fact that you were being so forward, that I liked it, or both.

For weeks, I had the upper hoof. For weeks, I’d toyed with you, and in a single day, I was the one pressed against the wall while you read me with as much ease as you read a book on magic thermodynamics.

Yet you did not advance beyond that.

No nuzzles, no kisses, no nothing. You kept me at the edge, dangling me there, neither letting me go nor pulling me up. You—Dear lord, look at your grin; you’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Is your tail wagging, too?—I was baffled by how you had so quickly become an expert at seduction, at teasing me—it was driving me mad.

We eventually moved inside the train, which I was grateful for as it gave me something to do besides sitting there wondering what you would do.

I stepped into our cabin first, seating myself next to the window, taking several deep breaths. You strode in a moment later, closing the door behind you which was something you did every single time, but at that moment, my eyes did widen.

I watched you as you made your way through the small space, sitting down directly in front of me, our eyes interlocking.

Neither said a word.

You simply sat there, smiling, and the anticipation was murdering me! I didn’t even know what to say!

The train began to move, our bodies shaking slightly, and still you said nothing!

I couldn’t take it anymore.

“All right, do it!” I finally exclaimed, pressed against my seat, my heart thumping in my chest, and my mind racing. “Whatever it is you’re planning! Kiss me, talk, I don’t know, but do something before I go mad, Twilight!”

And just as I finished my sentence, so did the train enter Canterlot Mountain’s tunnel and cut the light.

I blinked in the absolute darkness, shocked for a moment until I held my breath when I heard you move and get up. It felt eternal, like a thousand years of waiting, the train rushing inside the tunnel while my entire world waited in the wings for you to take a step towards me.

And another.

And another.

And I’d have waited for another, except the train moved suddenly, I heard a yelp and then a very loud thud.

And, as I mentioned earlier, destiny is cruel, and that was the exact moment when the train left the tunnel, moonlight filtered into the room and I had to bite down a laugh at seeing you sprawled on the floor, muzzle pressed against the carpet.

The most delightful silence followed.

“Twilight, darling?” I asked, pressing my forehoof against my cheek. “What are you doing, if I might ask?”

“Studying the composition of the carpet,” you replied matter-of-factly.

“I see, I see!” I said. “Anything interesting to report?”

“Yes. This carpet seems to be made from wool, which means this was probably one of the original rugs made for the Friendship Express, since most modern trains use synthetic fibers like nylon and polyester since they’re less expensive to get.”

“Dearest, how fascinating!” I cleared my throat. “Would you like to try what you were doing before again?”

“I want to teleport myself to the other side of Equestria, but I’m not that skilled at teleportation yet.”

“But, my darling, if you’re halfway across the kingdom, how will I kiss you again?” I asked, and Twilight Sparkle, the little squeal of surprise you let out! I think I fell in love all over again. “Twilight, please sit up.”

And the moment you did, your flustered eyes meeting mine, I leaned forward to kiss you, and now did you really kiss me back, pushing me back against my seat and I was nothing but willing.

When we finally parted, our lips inches away, our faces flushed, I let out a soft laugh.

“Did you like that?” I asked, and giggled when you nodded.

“Rarity, I…” A shadow of pain marred your face. “We shouldn’t have done this.”

“Whyever not?” I asked, still keeping you close and caressing your face with my hoof. “Frankly, I think we haven’t done it enough.”

“Yo-Your job,” you stammered. “You have to stay here.”

And, for the last time, I made a choice.

“Well, then, my love,” I whispered, “we’ll simply have to pool our money together so we can afford to see each other every weekend, won’t we?”

You opened your eyes, moving back. “Wh-what? You mean you…”

“I don’t intend on losing either the job or you, so we shall simply have to find a way for this to work for a year or so,” I said, and what a smile you offered in return. I moved in closer, closing the distance between our lips, and whispered when we pulled apart. “Does that sound agreeable?”

You giggled, tears in your eyes and moved in to nuzzle me.

“That sounds more than agreeable. So much more.”

Always Seeking,
Each Moment Fleeting;
This Is Where
MySoul Will Rest.

With YouI’ve Fulfilled,
Our Destined Meeting;
My Tired Hand,
Against Your Chest.

This Is The Heart,
That Keeps Mine Beating-
These Are The Eyes
That Mine Know Best.

~ Lang Leav

???

???. The Last Train Home

In the book of Rarity's life, Twilight Sparkle was its beginning, is its middle, and will be its end.

Rarity knew this for a fact, and she would not have it any other way.

She always did love Manehattan.

She loved the city lights, the trends, and the ponies who seemed to live on a different plane of time, if that made sense. It was the city where time went as fast or slow as one’s life. It had been before she was and would continue to be after she was gone.

Like Twilight.

And still, she would not have it any other way.

Her eyes traveled the city’s station, the autumn wind keeping her company as she waited for the train to arrive and take them home. It was late—nearly an hour so—but neither of them felt very much bothered by the fact. There was no need and desire to rush back after having spent such an intimate weekend together.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, in and out for about ten times, until a wonderful scent filled the air and a smile swept across her lips.

“Goodness, what is that wonderful aroma?” Rarity asked aloud, taking another delectable whiff before opening her eyes and finding the most lovely Princess standing before her, a cup of tea now floating by her side. “My, my, my, Princess Twilight Sparkle! You are doing a wonderful job at enticing me.” She paused. “And I suppose the tea smells nice, too.”

“Thanks,” she said, rolling her eyes in that playful fashion she did when Rarity had secretly pleased her.

Rarity took the tea in her magic, taking a sip as she made sure not only to devour Twilight with her eyes, but that Twilight knew she was doing so. She always did love Twilight as a unicorn, but she could not say that her wings and new height hadn’t been something Rarity did not immensely enjoy.

“What?” Twilight asked with a sheepish laugh after Rarity had spent too long quietly admiring her.

“I’m looking at you,” she replied.

“Well, I know that, silly,” Twilight said, taking a sip of her own tea. “Why are you looking at me?”

And she called Rarity silly! She thought it would be obvious.

“Because I love you,” she replied, and what a grin she had to bite down at how torn Twilight looked between being embarrassed and delighted.

Long ago, for her and Rarity, back when they were still only discovering their relationship, to utter those three words to the bookish pony was to turn Twilight into quite the flustered mess of a dear. When they were young, and silly, and as in love as they always would be.

That time, however, Twilight simply smiled and leaned in, regaling Rarity with her lips.

“I love you,” she whispered when she pulled back, and when she nuzzled Rarity afterwards, the unicorn knew she meant it.

It pained her when Twilight moved away, and she didn’t say it so much as she whined it. She smiled victoriously when Twilight laughed and sat beside her, enveloping Rarity in her wing and resting her chin atop her beloved’s head. They fell silent for a while, enjoying each other’s presence, and again Rarity told Twilight that she loved her.

She would love her until her dying day.

She knew this for a fact, as well, and just as twice before, she would not have it any other way.

She felt it, suddenly, Twilight tightening her wing’s grip around her.

“Twilight?”

There was a moment of silence, eternal until it was broken.

“I…” A long breath, and she confessed, “I don’t want to go.”

Rarity didn’t know what to say, even as her heart seemed to shrink in her chest. It was hard, wasn’t it? Difficult when a wonderful trip came to an end, where a moment of fantasy was broken, and one was forced to return to reality.

“I know, my darling,” she said, “but poor Spike is waiting, isn’t he? You have to go back to him, and I have to go back to a lifetime of being terrified of you going to Saddle Arabia.”

“Rarity…” Twilight said, her voice grave. “I should have never told you that.”

“What? That the stallions there are absolute dreamboats?” she asked playfully, and laughed when Twilight groaned. “Darliiiiiing, I’m only teasing, my love. I just can’t stand seeing you sad.” She finally relented and confessed, “I don’t want to go back, either, but… the show must go on, as it were. Besides…”

She took a sip of her tea.

“...We could always just travel back in time and relive the trip, you know?” she suggested, and finally drew out a genuine laugh from her princess.

“Right,” she said. “What a great idea.”

Rarity took another sip of her tea and allowed herself to slip back into nostalgia. How could she not, with her and Twilight waiting for a train, cuddled together and drinking tea.

The train finally arrived.

They stared at it for a long time, embraced in their moment and each other.

“Here it is,” Rarity said. “The last train home.”

Twilight laughed. “Oh my gosh, you’re so dramatic.”

Rarity gasped. “Am I?! Darling, stop the presses!”

It was Twilight who finally tore herself away, making a show out of shaking her head. Rarity watched her step into the train, and a pain rippled through her heart.

It always was terribly sad, wasn’t it, when things came to an end.

She took a final breath and stepped into the train, finding that Twilight had been waiting for her inside. Ponies moved to the side as a Princess of Equestria stepped by, Rarity quietly following behind until they reached a single private compartment.

Rarity stepped in first, taking the seat by the window, and she couldn’t help but feel it was all too familiar. Twilight stepped in moments later, closing the door behind her and seating herself next to the unicorn, having no shame in again nuzzling and kissing her.

Once they were settled, Rarity looked out through the window, catching sight of the great towering city that was dwarfed when compared to the greatness of Princess Twilight Sparkle.

“Rarity?”

“My darling?”

“Remember our trips to Canterlot? Right after our first Grand Galloping Gala for the job with Princess Celestia?”

Rarity tore her gaze from the window. “Of course,” she said, finding Twilight still looking out into the city. “How can I not? I remember it as though it were yesterday.”

Twilight hummed, still looking out. “You know, you’ve never told me your side of it.”

“I haven’t?” she asked. “I thought I did... Well! I don’t see why I can’t tell you now. It’s a long ride back home, after all.”

Twilight finally looked at Rarity, a smirk on her lips. “The last train home and all.”

“Precisely! And it is a thrilling tale! Of two lovers having to confront the idea of being separated an entire year.”

Twilight laughed softly. “One year feels like so little now. One year apart isn’t any time at all compared to..:”

“Twilight, do you want to tell the story or should I?”

She grinned. “Sorry.”

In reply, Rarity cleared her throat and took a deep breath. The story she would tell was not any simple story. It was the most treasured one she had, and to do it a disservice would be a crime befitting a punishment worse than death itself.

“You were an enigma, Twilight Sparkle,” she said. “The very first time I saw you, I thought I knew exactly who you were.”

We feel the end is drawing near,
would time be so kind to slow?
You are everything to me, my dear,
you are all I really know.

But as we sit and wait and fear
and watch the hours go—

Everything that happened here
happened long ago.

~ Lang Leav

Author's Note

“That was a nice story, Rarity.”

“Do you think so? I’m glad. It is my favorite story, after all.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It was the story of how we began, and this?

This, my love, is the story of how it ends.”

Thanks for reading, and if you click onto the midquel, I hope you like it!

Please let me know if see any typos, preferably via PM.

I - IV

Author's Note

Special thanks to shortskirtsandexplosions for suggesting the writing style, and special thanks to my dear friend Jyki who told me 'for f*ck's sake, mono, if you want to write fluff, just goddamn write fluff instead of agonizing over whether fluff is good literature or not, who the hell even cares'.

If you find any typos, please let me know (preferably via PM). Thank you!

I - IV

The Last Train Home
by Monochromatic

[Set in season 1 and written under the assumption that the Grand Galloping Gala took place three or so months after the S1 premiere
/
Complete and ground-up rewrite of Last Call, originally published in 2015 ]

“Rarity?”

“My darling?”

“Remember our trips to Canterlot? Right after our first Grand Galloping Gala, for that job with Princess Celestia?”

“Of course. How can I not? I remember it as though it were yesterday.”

“Hm. You know, you’ve never told me your side of it.”

“I haven’t? Well! I don’t see why I can’t tell you now. It’s a long ride back home, after all.”

I. The Princess’s Request

You were an enigma, Twilight Sparkle.

The very first time I saw you, I thought I knew exactly who you were. In fact, I believe I said as much when I dragged you into my boutique to...improve your interesting manestyle. You were Twilight Sparkle, Princess Celestia’s prized student and no doubt a model example of Canterlot’s grand sophistication and glamour.

But, as I said before, I was wrong about you, of course. Ponies are not always what they seem, what they say, what they claim to be. I certainly don’t enjoy being wrong, but mistakes pave the way to success, do they not?

It started with a request from the Princess—you delivered the scroll personally, do you remember?— asking if I might be available to work on a few commissions for her while her tailor was on vacation.

Apparently, she’d been thoroughly impressed by the dresses I designed for the Gala.

I think I nearly toppled you over when I threw myself at you in exhilaration at the news. Swung you in my arms as though you were my hopes and dreams themselves, and in retrospect, I wish I had taken the time to truly notice the effect it had on you. How you stumbled back, face flushed, unsure of how to act. I thought it to be natural. We’d only been friends for, hmm, about three or four months? And you weren’t exactly a social butterfly, so I pegged your stammering and embarrassment on the fact that you were socially anxious, to put it kindly.

I was too thrilled to think otherwise. Even despite the sour taste the Gala had left in my mouth, I couldn’t deny I was still taken by our capital city, and the opportunities to be found within.

II. The Train Station

You were an early riser.

It had been a particularly cold morning when it all began. The winter months had yet to arrive, but the cold had come early as it tends to do. It chilled me to my drowsy bones with its unfettered access to the lone platform that made up Ponyville’s train station. If only the weather indulged in being fashionably late. Yet I couldn’t complain. Winter fashion has always been much more elegant than the fashions of other seasons, and I was certain Princess Celestia would approve of my timely ensembles.

The train station was nearly empty. I was hardly surprised. I covered a yawn with my hoof, and my weary eyes traveled towards the clock hanging on a nearby wall. Quarter to five, it said. What an ungodly hour to be awake! But I was expected at the castle at nine o’clock sharp, and the train ride would take about three and a half hours.

I tightened my scarf—a blue cashmere wonder I’d purchased at a market a few years ago, as stylish as it was heavenly—and swept my eyes across the station. The one or two suitcases I brou—What? Oh, fine!

The six small and necessary suitcases I brought with me lay in a pile besides me. A pegasus stallion stood on the other side of the platform, his head bobbing up and down as he desperately tried to remain awake. A unicorn mare sat on a bench behind him, the morning newspaper and a cup of coffee floating before her.

I looked away, stifling another yawn. I wished I’d brought coffee along with me. I am, as you know very well, a lover of tea, but I think only a shot of espresso could rouse me from the Sandpony’s lingering embrace.

I closed my eyes and breathed in the morning air. In a few hours, I would be in Canterlot Castle. In a few hours, a silly dream would become reality. In a few hours… My heart hammered in my chest, and I opened my eyes, setting them on the empty track before me. My throat felt dry suddenly, and my stomach twisted with the fear of the unknown.

I was going to be working for Princess Celestia.

Princess Celestia!

Granted, it was only going to be a three-month-or-so-long assignment, and I would only be going to Canterlot three or four times a week, but still!

Or, rather, I’d be traveling to Canterlot if the train even arrived in the first place. I glared at the empty tracks, as if my irritation could summon it forth. I didn’t want to be late for my first day! Honestly, couldn’t the conductor have been a bit more considerate? I was a hero of the nation, for pony’s sake! Saved it from Nightmare Moon! What had the world come to, I ask of you. One spends her entire life devoted to improving one’s kingdom and—pardon me, but designing clothes is an improvement to the nation!

Where was I?

Ah, yes!

One spends her entire life devoted to bettering the kingdom’s image, later saves it from a terrible evil, and yet it can’t deign itself with having the train arrive early?! It’s simply rude, is what it is.

I trotted towards the ticket booth and addressed the half-asleep stallion, one of my lone companions in what felt like an eternal morning. “Excuse me, sir,” I said, rousing him from his nap. “Do you happen to know if the train will be on time?”

He blinked at me once, twice, thrice, and then slowly—agonizingly slowly, I tell you—glanced at the watch on his wrist. “The train should get here just fine, ma’am,” he said, looking back at me and yawning right in my face.

How insolent! And not only insolent but rude, too! He called me ma’am! Do I look like an old mare! I’m a miss! Or, was. Am, still.

Regardless, I made my way back to my spot and closed my eyes again, trying to keep my cool. The attitude one, not the physical one. I wish I had thought to bring a coat. I breathed in again, and my tension ebbed away as the most wonderful scent filled the air. It reminded me of the almond cappuccino I sometimes treat myself to at Sugarcube Corner whenever they’re out of my favorite vanilla and lavender tea.

In fact.

In fact, it smelled exactly like the almond cappuccino from the pastry shop, and I opened my eyes to find that’s exactly what it was. A large cup of coffee floated before me, enveloped in a familiar raspberry magic, the steam tenderly caressing my face.

“Wha…?”

I turned around and who did I see but you.

There you stood, Twilight Sparkle, the unicorn who’d saved Equestria.

The newest addition to my social circle, and at the time, and even now, by far the most interesting. Fluttershy, ever my partner in crime, was my dearest friend; Rainbow wasn’t one to share my interests, but I enjoyed her company; Applejack was certainly the most mature, but also my diametric opposite in many obvious ways; Pinkie was, well, Pinkie; but you…

You were interesting.

Very, very interesting.

“Good morning, Rarity!” you said with much more life and excitement than such an early morning warranted. You were wearing a rather fetching blue scarf—interesting and fashionable! What a lethal combination!—and the cutest pair of earmuffs. I would have said as much did I not feel like death.

“Twilight!” I exclaimed, your surprise appearance certainly succeeding in waking me somewhat. Granted, I hardly knew you at the time, but I think I’d have known if you were in the habit of wandering Ponyville before dawn. “Goodness, Twilight, it’s five in the morning! What are you doing here?”

You flinched. Very subtly, somepony less detail-oriented might not have noticed, but you flinched.

“Uhh… Well, going to Canterlot, I hope!” you exclaimed in a hurry, offering a nervous smile. “Is that okay?”

I frowned, confused.

“Is that okay?” I repeated. You ask the oddest of questions, I swear. “Why in Equestria wouldn’t it be?”

You blinked at me, and your cheeks turned red as you awkwardly tugged on your scarf. It was most endearing. If we’d been closer friends, I’d have pinched your cheeks. “Uhm…” The cup of coffee floated closer to me. “Coffee? Pinkie told me this one’s your favorite.”

I was polite enough to indulge your obvious attempt to change the topic, and gratefully took the coffee in my magic after thanking you. It smelled wonderful and tasted as much. The nervousness that had plagued me seemed to melt away with the warmth filling my body.

Or, it might have been your very presence. Your pleased smile as I hummed in delight, as though my very soul knew even then that something would grow between us. Like our very own cutie marks, destiny had interwoven our fates together so we may face hardships and fig—What?

No, I am not getting sidetracked. This is incredibly vital! It’s hardly my fault you lack any showmareship whatsoever.

Do you want to tell the story then? That’s what I thought.

Yes, perhaps, even then, our decisions had led us to this fate, for destiny truly does rule—yes, it does. Twilight, be serious! What! Look at us! Look at our society! You think ponies’ cutie marks coincidentally happen to match the random name their parents gave them? Please.

See! Now I don’t remember where I left off…

Let’s see. You arrived with coffee, with your fetching scarf, your fetching face, and then…oh, yes!

“I hadn’t the faintest idea you were going to Canterlot!” I exclaimed.

“Oh! Uhm. Yes,” you said with all the eloquence of a well-read pony. You smiled sheepishly, because...sheep are embarrassed when they smile? Appa—no, I don’t want the etymology! I was being—! Twilight Sparkle, I’ll put a silence spell on you! I will!

There.

“I thought I told you,” you said, smiling apologetically. “I still have assignments to do for Princess Celestia back in Canterlot, and since you’d be coming, she decided to have me come on the same days you would.”

“Did she now? I suppose it makes sense.” I hummed thoughtfully. “And she’s making you take the 5 AM train?”

You nodded. “Yes. I have to be there at…” You paused briefly. “Nine o’clock.”

A smile formed on my lips. “Oh! Just like me! I would have thought she’d go easier on you, you being her student and all! Do you at least get to go home early?”

You shook your head.

“No. That’s why Spike is staying at the library to help customers. Because I’ll have to go home on the late-night train,” you said, and yet you didn’t look so dismayed by the news. I didn’t think much of it, admittedly.

“Oh dear, long days await you then, I fear,” I said, trying to sound sympathetic for your plight. “I’m quite sorry, Twilight.”

Ha! What a laugh! I was delighted the Princess had stuck you onto my schedule! Not because of any joy derived from your situation, mind, but because it meant I would get to spend the long commute in the company of my newest and most interesting friend.

I don’t quite remember what we talked about afterward. It was cold, and early, and though I had my coffee, I was still half-asleep. The train arrived on time, I think; I took one of my suitcases, and you kindly took the others.

The train was empty, as expected considering the time, so we were able to have a private cabin all for ourselves. Do you remember the number? Cabin 3-C. Small for parties of six, but big enough for a party of two and their six suitcases. I sat next to the window, and you sat on the opposite side.

I thought nothing of it, at the time.

We were just friends, you and I. Two friends going to Canterlot.

III. The Shape of Your Smiles

I don’t think I’d ever really truly noticed you before. I thought you were interesting, yes, but not somepony to completely devote myself to.

Don’t look so cross! I’m noticing you now, aren’t I? I notice you all the time nowadays, my eyes constantly drawn to you, my ears swiveling towards your voice, my entire self focused on you, but back then…

It wasn’t that you were shy. Quite the contrary, you were a presence by the mere fact you were torn between being and not being one. You were a walking paradox, and in many ways still are. Torn between shunning others and involving them, not out of ill-will but simple inexperience. You would get miffed at me if I dared interrupt your reading, but ah, how’d you talk if I asked what the book was about.

You’d brought one along for the ride, do you remember? What was it? Winter's Winds? No? Ah, yes, you’re right! The Otherworldly Archives by Single Shade. I’d fallen asleep somewhere along the ride, dreamt of the Princess and my future at the Castle, and when I woke, I found you enraptured in your book. Your eyes flicked from left to right, your ears raising and lowering with every paragraph, and your attention wholly dedicated to the words before you.

At that moment, you reminded me of myself. It made me smile. We’d yet to really talk, really get to know each other, but I didn’t need to know you to see you were devoted. I’d seen as much when I first met you, how relentless you were in your pursuit for Nightmare Moon. I don’t believe that I’d found it attractive so early on, but I appreciated it.

I remember wishing somepony would be as enraptured by me as you were by books.

I fell asleep soon after, and I woke not to the sound of the conductor’s voice or the train’s whistle, but to the sound of your voice and a gentle shake of my shoulders. My eyes fluttered open, a yawn left my lips, and I remember your smile. Goodness, that sounds so corny when I say it like that, but it’s true. I always remember your smiles because they were… they are…

What’s the word I’m looking for? It’s not that they were genuine, for Pinkie has very genuine smiles that are nothing like yours. You smiled… so earnestly. I think that’s the word I’m looking for. You were earnest in your smiles, as you were in everything else you did.

You were smiling earnestly at me.

“Twilight?” I asked, momentarily forgetting where I was or what was going on.

“We’re here!” you exclaimed, stamping your hooves against the floor.

“We’re here?” I asked, confused. My gaze landed on the window, and I saw our kingdom’s beautiful capital city beyond it. I also saw the time on the clocktower in the distance. “Horrors! We’re here, andit’s nearly nine!”

No, I did not panic. I was simply… concerned, is all. I only threw the little luggage at your face in my attempt to rush out! It could have been worse. I could have thrown the large one! Well, yes, throwing luggage at and asking your new friend to carry your bags isn’t truly proper etiquette, but you still graciously did it and this is why you’re wonderful, darling.

Yes, I am sweet-talking myself out of culpability, and you’re being awfully dramatic over something that happened so long ago. Only I can do that, thank you very much.

Running through the city wasn't really how I'd expected my first day to be like. I had planned on taking my time, seeing the sights, window shopping a bit, maybe buying a few trinkets, and instead I was running a marathon. I was terrified! What if I was late? What would the Princess say?

And yet, when I turned back to you, you looked entertained. You were laughing at my misery, Twilight! Yes, you were! Giggling and rolling your eyes at me! Of course you knew the Princess wouldn't expel me to the moon for being late, but I am not you! My career was at stake! My reputation! My entire life!

"Twilight, please," I whined, coming to a halt on the castle path, stamping my hooves against the ground. I fell onto my haunches, my chest heaving. I was more out of shape than I expected. The unfortunate consequences of indulging in one too many of Pinkie's pastries. "It's almost nine, and the castle is miles away!"

You frowned in that way you do when you think I'm being dramatic. Which is always. The frowning I mean, not me being dramatic.

"Rarity." You pointed towards the gate, which, as I said, was miles away. "The gate isn't even two-hundred feet away."

You were always bad at math.

"It's ruined, I tell you!" I exclaimed, as it—In retrospect, I will concede that I was being a little dramatic. I got up, turned around and made my way down the path because clearly I was not ready, and I could always come back in a few years, and it was all simply ruined. "I can't show my face ever again in the—eep! Twilight Sparkle!"

As though I were an object myself, I found myself being levitated amongst my suitcases. It was scandalous! And the worst part is you always do that! You’re objectifying me!

"Twilight, put me down!" I protested, glaring down at your innocent smile. "Put me down right now!"

You giggled as if giggling adorably would absolve you of your insolence, and walked towards the castle. "You don't have to be nervous, Rarity."

I harrumphed. "I am not nervous!"

I was ridiculously nervous.

We reached the gates, and you had the gall to engage in small talk with the guards while I was still floating about upside down! Rightside-up! Diagonally! Yes, horizontally and vertically too! Finally, after the longest minute of my entire Celestia-forsaken life, you continued towards the castle and dropped me—alright, you didn't drop me, you gently put me down and then giggled again! Karmic revenge for me taking pleasure out of you having to wake up at ungodly hours with me!

"We're here, see," you said, and then gestured towards a nearby tower clock. "Fifteen minutes early."

"Well! Well! It seems we are, but I knew we would be." I giggled. "And you were worried we’d be late, Twilight! Really, you mustn't fret so much over every little thing, you know? It's not healthy. "

"No," you said, tilting your head ever so slightly and raising your eyebrow. "No, it's not. I'm so glad you're here to set a better example."

I grinned. "Aren't you just."

And then you smiled.

You know, I'm telling you this, and I think I finally realize why authors spend so much time describing smiles in stories. There was amusement in your grin, certainly, but…but it shone with affection. That should have been my first sign. I pride myself on having absolute attention to detail, with having perfected reading in-between the lines to an art form, yet I didn't see what was clear before me.

I would eventually learn that that particular smile was reserved only for me, but back then, I thought nothing of it but the fact that it made me feel like, perhaps, there truly was no reason to be nervous.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I returned your smile and marched forward into what promised to be an interesting new chapter in the story of my life.

Unfortunately, we didn’t stay together much longer once we entered the castle. A few ponies were trotting about, and from what you told me, my destination was somewhere in the west wing while yours was in the east wing.

I asked you about my predecessor, remember?

“Perfect Stitch can be difficult,” you said, referring to the castle’s elderly tailor. You bit down on your lip, hesitant, and then added with a frown, “She’s a perfectionist. And she’s not afraid to speak her mind.”

“Really? I could hardly tell by her name!” I replied, and I stuck out my tongue when you rolled your eyes. Not a very ladylike behavior, I admit, but it made you laugh, and that was good enough for me. Afterward, I tossed my mane back and fluttered my eyelashes. “Not to worry, darling! I’ll be sure to dazzle her! After she’s met me, she’ll want to cancel her vacation just so she can see me work my magic!”

You laughed, and I felt an odd sort of thrill by the fact. I aim to please, and it seemed that my magic was at least working on you.

“I… I don’t know, Rarity,” you warned. “She didn’t get her reputation from out of thin air. She used to be very severe with me, and I think even Princess Celestia is a bit afraid of her. I once saw her scold the Princess when I was a filly.”

“Twilight, really. She’s an old mare! She’s mellowed out, I’m sure,” I said, brushing you off. You were probably exaggerating! And let’s face it, you don’t usually have the best taste in outfits, so it wasn’t hard to imagine she was put off by whatever ensembles you wore as a foal.

“Come on,” you said, moving along towards the west wing. “We don’t want to be late.”

“But, Twilight,” I said, nodding towards the staircase leading to the east wing, “Princess Celestia’s office is over that way. Don’t you have to meet with her in ten minutes?”

You gave me an owlish stare. “What? I do?” you asked. Your eyes widened, and your ears straightened. “O-Oh! Right! I do! I forgot.” A streak of red colored your cheeks, and you let out a nervous laugh, again pulling on your scarf. “Sorry.”

“Twilight... Are you feeling well?” I asked, and felt tempted to raise my hoof to check your temperature. “It isn’t like you to forget a meeting with Princess Celestia.” A devious smirk pushed itself onto my lips. “My, my, my! It seems that I am not the only one who’s nervous around here!”

“I’m not nervous!” you protested, and to prove the fact, you stomped away in a huff for the incredible length of five full steps before unceremoniously stopping and turning around. “Uhm. See you later?”

I smiled. “But of course. Lunch should do, and if not, we’ll meet up at the gates tonight? I should be off by seven-thirty, I expect.”

“Seven-thirty,” you repeated, as if engraving it in a mental calendar. You smiled at me one last time. “All right! Good luck!”

I watched you leave, and it wasn’t until you were gone that an ache nestled itself in my heart. I was well and truly alone now, with no choice but to fend for myself! I looked around, at the castle that had previously filled me with awe and yet now filled me with…

Bleh.

Yes, bleh! It is in fact an emotion, I’ll have you know! Sad to see it's lacking from your dictionary. It means to feel restless towards the forthcoming challenges of life. I came up with it just now. Because I’m clever that way.

I felt very bleh, until I thought of you.

I remembered your smile, your wish of good luck, so I took a deep breath, trying to steady my mind and nerves. I couldn’t allow my anxieties to win! My new friend believed in me, so it was imperative I made sure her belief was well placed. I didn’t want to spend the train ride back home being miserable, after all. Do you even know how much ice cream costs in Canterlot?

Besides, I was Rarity! The paragon of fabulosity in Equestria! The most beautiful, the most radiant, the most—Pardon me, but I am a model example of humility!

I humbly made my way towards Perfect Stitch’s workshop, determined to show her what I was made of, and show you that you were wrong about how difficult she was.

IV. Tea for Two

I hate it when you’re right.

On one hoof, I’m delighted you’re so clever, but on the other hoof, your cleverness always seems to come at the cost of my dignity and pride.

Perfect Stitch wasn’t difficult. She was whatever comes after that, multiplied by a thousand. And here I thought I was a stickler for details! You'd think she was military personnel making sure I was up to the task of defending Equestria from crimes against fabulosity.

Which, granted, I was, but still!

She asked to see all my designs, make sure they were up to par. If only I could have traveled in time and brought back my portfolio with the designs I made for Sapphire Shores! She tested me on a wide array of skills, as well, ranging from my hoof-eye coordination and dexterity to my attention to detail. I also had to engage with one of her clients—Duchess Windhigh, specifically; you remember her, don't you?—and I was to make sure she left convinced her dress would be fantastic.

I thought of you as lunchtime approached, but my charms had finally done their magic, and Perfect Stitch treated me to lunch at a restaurant in the Moon District. The Princess's Guard, if I remember correctly. No, you wouldn't have heard of it, dearest. In any case, there wasn't a single pony there that didn't look the part of aristocrats. Everything they did, they did with grace and finesse.

Now you see why you've never been there.

After lunch—are you done pouting, dearest? I was mostly kidding—we returned, and I finished a few designs, just so she could take her vacation without reservations. She even let me leave early! She must have been pleased with my results, and frankly, so was I.

I had hoped to meet with the Princess, as well, but it seemed she was otherwise occupied. I found myself at a loss for what to do. I still had about an hour left before we were supposed to meet, and I had no one to humbly share my success with. Eventually, I walked around the castle area, and that's when I discovered Lavender's Tea Time. It drew me with its delicious aroma and affordable prices. I spent about an hour trying to decide what tea to buy out of the shop’s wide selection, and as our meeting time approached, I settled with buying the first two teas out of many to come.

Nutmeg Delight for me, and Rosepetal Wonders for you.

When I came back, I found you pacing by the gate. You seemed preoccupied and kept glancing towards the castle. Had your assignments gone badly? The joy I felt dissipated at the thought, and I did my best to mask it away. As much as my success delighted me, I didn't want to flaunt it in your face if you weren't feeling well.

You didn't notice me approaching and instead sat on your haunches, closing your eyes and taking several deep breaths. A coy smile shaped my lips. When I was close enough, I did as you earlier had and levitated the tea right under your nose, a trail of steam rising and caressing your face.

Your nose twitched, and your eyes fluttered open.

"Huh?" you asked, and when you finally noticed me, your entire disposition changed. Your worry vanished almost instantly, and your eyes sparkled in the twilight. Yes, that was completely intentional. "Oh! Rarity! How did it go?!" You blinked. "Wait, you went for tea? You finished early?!" The worry returned tenfold, and you stepped back. "It… Did it not go well…?"

You were so concerned! It was endearing, and had I been bolder, I'd have tapped your nose with my hoof.

I sighed, looking away into the distant setting sun. "No, it did not go well. It went..."

I paused for effect.

...

...

...

"Well?" you pressed, just like you did right now.

"Well..." I murmured, and finally, I offered you a dazzling grin. "It went splendidly! She loved my designs, as I knew she would, and she was so impressed by my methods, she decided I could leave early! I am officially the castle’s tailor until further notice!"

“Rarity! That’s wonderful!” you exclaimed, and rushed forward to joyfully embrace me. “I knew you could do it!”

That was my first sign, I think. The first time something struck me as odd, out-of-place. Personally, I wouldn’t have thought much of you hugging me, as I myself was quite invested in physical affection, platonic or romantic. If you had pulled away and carried on with a bright smile, I wouldn’t have suspected a single thing.

But you didn’t.

The hug didn’t last even a second too long before you suddenly pulled away, cheeks flushed. “Oh, uhm, sorry,” you blurted out, apparently embarrassed by your actions.

And, you know, Twilight, all things considered, I should have pegged it on your social inexperience. I should have attributed your fluster to a clear desire not to offend a new friend with potentially undesired physical intimacy.

I could have, and I would later on, but for a moment...

For a brief moment, with a furrowed brow and searching eyes, I wondered if something else was hidden in the air between you and me.

What was it that led me to wonder that? Even now I’m still not entirely sure. Wishful thinking? I don’t think, not that early, at least. Maybe it was just the grand scheme of it all; my professional aspirations had literally just come to fruition in the city of my dreams, so my brain decided that some sort of romantic event had to happen for the dream to be entirely complete.

But, rather than dwell on it, I waved your concerns away and took a sip of tea.

“Shall we go?” I asked. “The first of many long rides await us.”

You smiled. “But at least we’ll be together, right?” you offered tentatively.

“Twilight, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“ Love is a game
of tic-tac-toe,
constantly waiting
for the next x or o. ”

~ Lang Leav, Love & Misadventures

VIII-X

Author's Note

Me to all of you: I'll be posting weekly!
Dark Me: Post now.
Me: But I told them-
Dark Me: HOW DARE YOU QUESTION ME

VIII-X

VIII. Piercing Fire

I heard somewhere, sometime, that no two individuals can be together without breaking another’s heart.

He was invaluable, to you and to me. Even now, even today, it is hard to consider our life together without him being a part of it. Even if he was a child, regardless of whether it was a mere crush or more, you cared so much about him—even at the cost of us.

The train had been delayed, do you remember? Some unfortunate accident of the sort, a rockslide or engine malfunction, I don’t quite recall. We’d been delayed hours, and midnight dawned by the time we arrived to Ponyville’s station. It had been a particularly harrowing day, having had to redesign Duke Firestroke’s suit over and over and over and over and...

Well, you understand.

I’d fallen asleep halfway through that week’s novel, leaning against you, not that you would complain about it, would you?

The train’s whistle woke me, and I remember being annoyed by it. No, not because it woke me up, but because I’d learned in past days that you, princess, were unfairly comfortable to cuddle to. I believe you once told me unicorns had a higher body temperature because of our magic, but I politely reject your science and posit that it’s because I was next to you, and honestly who wouldn’t feel a bit hot when in my presence?

We eventually made our way out of the train, by which I mean you made your way while I…effusively expressed my distaste at the late hour and my exhaustion.

“Twiiiiiiiiliiiiiiiiiight,” I said, walking out into the frigid and unforgiving winter air that not even my scarf could defeat. I stood still and sighed theatrically. “Twilight, I simply can’t move another muscle! I can’t, I won’t!”

You fixed me with a stare. “Rarity.”

“You cannot move me!”

“Rarity, it’s midni—”

“Insist no further! You shan’t win!”

“Right.” You looked around, and then trotted over towards me. “So, what’s your plan, then?”

“My plan?” I purred, in that way that makes you do my bidding. “I am delighted you asked.”

“I’m sure you are.”

I looked to the sides in a conspiratorial fashion, intent on making sure nopony could hear.

“Come close, darling,” I whispered. “No, closer. Closer. Closer.Clos—”

What?

I’m whispering for effect! And you’re not coming closer! Yes, you were supposed to come closer, too!

“Now what?” you asked, sounding ever so flustered. You were very close. Probably a bit too close; it was difficult to be mysterious with you smooshed against my cheek.

“Now, Twilight, it is of vital importance you do as I say. Do you understand?” I warned, narrowing my eyes at the select ponies still lingering about. “I need you to stand perfectly still. Actually, be a dear and sit down. No, not there! It’s filthy! There! Yes, good. But now you’re not close! No, don’t—! I’ll sit next to you. Good, now stay still.”

And you did. And so I leaned against you and sighed.

“I… I think I’m missing something here,” you confessed. Understandable, as my machinations can sometimes prove to be far too clever for even one such as you. “What’s your plan?”

“To have you sit there and keep me warm, of course,” I replied without missing a beat.

You giggled. “And how long are we going to stay here?”

“Oh, a few hours,” I said, gesturing noncommittally. “Or maybe until we have to take the train again.”

“That’s in two days,” you replied. “Are we going to sit here until then?”

“I have no qualms with that. I thoroughly enjoy your company,” I replied. And your body heat. And the texture of your coat. And many other things, but I digress. “Alone together, no, darling? And I wager you enjoy my company in return. Honestly, it’s a splendid plan.”

Even though you shook your head, you did not protest further, instead choosing to quietly sit with me. It was strange. Not the act in itself, but what surrounded it. We’d grown closer since our time in the library, which was why I felt daring enough to, well, be so… well, not physical per se, since our species as a whole thrives off hugs… but it was…

Intimate.

I remember opening my eyes and glancing around. The empty station, the breeze, the late hours of the night, and the train waiting. I am a romantic, as you know, and when I find myself in certain settings, I cannot stop myself from noticing. I remember thinking that if we were in a romance novel, that would be the moment where the beautiful dazzling protagonist realizes there might be more to her companion.

Do you remember how I said that I fell in love with you through the powers of suggestion? Well…

No sooner had the thought left my head, I felt my cheeks heat up as unbidden thoughts took hold of me. No longer was I imagining Detective Shadow Spade and her debonair love-interest, Silver Blade, but you and I. But it was silly, of course. We were just friends, and I was simply letting my imagination run wild. We were merely having an intimate moment as friends often do.

Except.

Except you sighed with contentment, and tenderly rested your head against mine, and then did I feel very hot.

I did not move. I couldn’t, for moving might break the spell and reveal the truth. I found that, in that moment, I enjoyed the idea of you and I, even as some part of my brain reminded me we were only friends.

“We should leave,” you said finally, and I relaxed at the realization that my thoughts had somehow not leaked through or made themselves known. “Spike is probably worried about me. I’m never home this late.”

“We should, yes,” I replied.

Neither of us moved initially until you looked around, I heard you take a sharp intake of breath, and then you jerked away from me.

I shivered from the sudden cold.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you said quickly, too quickly.

But I did not press. I was too caught up in my own feelings.

“Of course,” I replied, and before I could say much else, you rushed off with a hasty goodbye.

I watched you go, and it wasn’t until you’d left that I finally abandoned the station, trying to decipher what that had been all about. From your hasty goodbye to my own wild imaginings.

It had been a troubling night.

I had been theatric only to find myself confronted with unusual feelings.

You had indulged your desires and gone along with my silly games only to realize we’d not been alone.

And Spike had gone to the station to wait for us only to run away after being caught witnessing a very painful scenario.

IX. Together, Yet Alone

I missed you.

Granted, I couldn’t tell if I missed you because you were my friend, or because I’d spent the past days shamefully pondering romantic scenarios featuring you, but I missed you nevertheless.

‘How silly!’ you must be thinking, ‘How can you have missed me when I took the train with you?’
...
...
...
Well, aren’t you going to ask?

Twilight, I’m so delighted you’ve asked!

And the answer is simple. You didn’t take the train with me.

You know, I thought about you the day after our little ‘moment’ at the train station. I joined dear Fluttershy for our weekly spa, and as I lay there in the jacuzzi, looking very attractive with mud on my face and cucumber slices on my eyes, I thought of you. I thought of the library, of you reading to me, of our little lunches, and everything else that encompassed you.

I remember Fluttershy giggled.

“Somepony’s happy to be at the spa,” she said teasingly, in the way she does when only I am around. “That’s a very big smile.”

And indeed it was a big smile, as large as the one you’re sporting right now, dearest. It was a smile that I kept throughout the day. I found myself eager to see you again, but I did have dresses to make in Ponyville, so I quelled my desire with the knowledge that I’d see you bright and early the next day.

Except I didn’t, because you never came.

I arrived to the train station, feeling like death as always, but determined to not fall asleep on you for once. As I approached, I noticed a few ponies meandering about, but I very distinctly noticed the lack of you. You, who besides that first time, was always there waiting for me precisely at five forty-five on the dot.

“Ah, Miss,” the ticket-seller said as I arrived. “You’re Rarity, aren’t you?”

“Why, yes, I am!” I exclaimed, momentarily distracted from my concern for you. I flipped my mane and fluttered my eyelashes. “The one and only! Chic, unique, and magnifique!”

He didn’t much care for me. A shame we can’t all have good taste.

“Your friend came by,” he said. “A purple pony.”

A purple pony! I was horrified and offended on your behalf. Of all your remarkably distinct features, he went for ‘a purple pony’. Which isn’t even correct, as your coat is mauve. Purple, he said!If he’d said lavender, for instance, I might have forgiven him seeing as they’re somewhat similar.

“Did she?” I asked, concern awashing me. “Where is she?”

He shrugged. “Asked me to tell you that she was sorry, but she wasn’t coming with you today. Oh.” He reached under the counter and took out a coffee cup. “She left this for you.”

“Oh… Thank you,” I said, taking the coffee. “Did she say why, by any chance?”

He shrugged. “Nope,” he said, helpfully.

“Ah. I see.”

I thanked him for his time and made my way to the edge of the platform. I was admittedly disheartened. All that buildup to see you, and you didn’t grace my morning with your presence. For a second, I wondered if I had somehow upset you, but the notion was ridiculous! Surely something else had happened.

But what?

I won’t lie. I felt hurt you made no attempt to tell me what was wrong. I thought we’d grown close in the past weeks, after all. It hurt to think I had been wrong.

She simply forgot to tell me, I told myself. A slip of the mind, nothing more.

When the train arrived, I stepped in and made my way to our cabin. Usually, it felt small and cozy. Now, it felt large and uninviting. I remember sitting down, and as I waited for the train to depart, your empty seat kept drawing my attention. By the time the train set off, my bags now filled in the space you’d left.

I told myself that it was good you hadn’t come along, as it meant I could sleep without a single remorse, but my mind is cruel. That morning, neither you nor the sandpony kept me company.

Time went agonizingly slow that day.

Even though I had no shortage of work, it felt like every stitch took a minute, and they probably did considering I kept stopping to glance at the wall clock every three seconds. I wanted—no, I needed—lunchtime to arrive so I could go and find you, if you’d even come to Canterlot at all.

It’s true what they say. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, even if I kept telling myself I was concerned out of the goodness of my heart, not some brewing crush. And maybe I was. Maybe I wasn’t. I think it was both.

If I remember correctly, I’d been working on Tinsel River’s dress.

“Rarity! This will be perfect!” she’d said, holding her packaged dress to her chest. She was intending on using it for her seventh-anniversary dinner with her husband. “Thank you so much!”

I smiled, bowing my head. “Not at all. Thank you for entrusting me with such a gown. You looked ravishing.”

She giggled. “Oh, stop, you flatterer,” she said, waving me off. She then bit her lip. “I did look pretty in it, didn’t I? And to think I almost commissioned Fabric Sky!”

“Fabric Sky is an exceptional designer, but he lacks…” I waved my hoof in a forwards circle, trying to find the right words. “He lacks flair. He’s rather old-fashioned, I fear.” I shook my head. “Alas! We can’t all be avant-garde.”

“True enough,” she replied. She furrowed her brow and hummed. “You know, I have a friend that I think you should meet. Are you free for lunch?”

The words ‘I am’ hung in my mouth. I technically didn’t have plans with you, after all, so there was no reason why I couldn’t go with Tinsel River, but…

“I’m afraid I’m not, River,” I said, bowing my head apologetically. River was a dear friend, so I hoped she wouldn’t take it badly that you were a dearer one. “I would love to, but I already made plans with somepony else, and it would be bad form to cancel on them last minute, after all. Perhaps we can reschedule if your friend would be so kind?”

“Of course! I’ll talk with him,” she said to my great relief. “By the way, do you have some sort of portfolio I could take?”

I offered her my severely lacking one, as I would later find out, and she went on her way with promises of coffee time and a potential...something? In retrospect, I should have inquired more on her mystery friend, but lunchtime had arrived, and I was hungry for you. To find you! Hungry to find you! That's what I said!

Well, you must be hearing things, then!

In any case, the castle was known for its many paths, many nooks and crannies and rooms, so finding you in such a maze would be difficult. Thankfully, you are so painfully predictable, and unless you were with Celestia herself, there was only one other place you’d ever be: the private library.

Pout all you want, we both know it’s true.

I arrived at the library posthaste, hoping you would indeed be there. If you were with your mentor, the rest of the world did not exist, but if you were alone, then I might have a chance yet. The closed library doors towered before me, but I refused to be deterred. I gently pushed them open, wishing they would not creak so loud, and then peeked inside to find you.

And find you I did.

I don’t think you heard me come in and if you did, then you did a good job at hiding it. You were sitting at a distant table, your brow furrowed in concentration as you glared at whatever book was placed in front of you. A cursory inspection revealed there seemed to be nothing wrong with you. No illness or visible malaise that explained why you’d purposefully missed the train.

But, if it wasn’t that, then what?

Suddenly, without prompting, you groaned and placed your face on top of the book. You were clearly distressed, and yet I must confess it was an endearing sight. I remember trying to stifle a giggle, and ignorantly assumed you were simply struggling with a task Celestia had given you.

Funny, the one time something truly was all about me, and the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.

As though you’d sensed me watching, you suddenly looked towards the door just as I hastily retreated into the hallway. I remember berating myself for it moments later. Why did I hide? I couldn’t be the source of your anguish, after all! I’d done nothing wrong that you or I knew of!

While I was lost in thought, ruminating on life's mysteries but more importantly you, you had managed to sneak up on me. I heard hoofsteps approaching in the distance. Horrors! But before I could hope to compose a cunning excuse, the door swung open and you stepped out, looking around and finding me.

“Rarity?” you said, sounding very much like a confused child caught with her hoof in the cookie jar.

I wasn't exactly prepared to face you just so soon, so my reaction was not exactly befitting a lady of my stature. Yes. I know. Shocking.

“Twilight!” I almost—okay, practically—yelled. “Hello! Fancy meeting you here!”

“...Hi.” You didn’t look upset, at least. Just awkward. “Uhm. What are you doing here?”

I panicked, caught. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?!”

You fixed me a very concerned stare. “...I do my work here?”

“O-Oh, do you? Why didn’t I think of that! Of course you would!” I said, laughing perhaps a bit too loudly.

You looked at me as though I’d gone mad. And I had! Because of you!

“Right.”

“We-WelI, in any case, if you must know, I was just taking a...uh...a stroll! Seeking to see the wonders Canterlot Castle had to offer, and since it’s such a nice day, I came here to fetch you.”

You analyzed me.

“You came here to fetch me,” you repeated.

“I did!”

“You came here to fetch me” you repeated, raising an eyebrow, “and yet you didn’t know I would be here. Hm.” You tilted your head ever so slightly, and so did a smirk curve your lips. “I can’t imagine how you didn’t see me when you looked inside the library, either.”

I inspected my hoof. “Neither can I! Life works in truly mysterious ways, does it not?”

And then you giggled, and everything about it was perfect.

“Right,” you said. “What can I do for you?”

You had such a way with words!

“You can start with addressing me like a friend and not an acquaintance, for starters,” I teased, and you blushed. It was most becoming. “And maybe you might put my inner Detective Shadow Spade at ease and tell me why you were so dramatically unable to take the train with me this morning? I was quite concerned.”

As if I had struck you, you recoiled, your ears lowering as well as your eyes. “Oh…” You looked away. “Sorry. Things came up in the library,” you said non-committally.

“...Things?” I pressed, hoping to garner something with more substance.

“Things,” you repeated. “It doesn’t really matter.”

And it did, but I didn’t know what to say, or how to press the issue any further. Do you know what it’s like to feel helpless to help a dear friend? But that was it, wasn’t it? The root of it all. You were just a friend, and a relatively new one still, and the boundaries between us were not yet clear. They’d been shaken in the past weeks, yes, but the fear of overstepping was still there.

So I relented.

“If you say so, Twilight,” I said, defeated. But I still wanted to be with you, so perhaps not all was lost. “Moving on, then! How about lunch, hm? I passed by the loveliest outdoor restaurant this morning, and I’m sure you’ll love it!”

You looked back at me for a second before again looking away. It was rather dramatic, if I say so myself.

“I have work to do,” you said, subdued. “Sorry.”

“But Twiliiiii—”

“I can’t, Rarity,” you cut me off, finally turning to me, expression severe. “I’m sorry, but I…” Your tone softened, and a strange sort of sadness washed over you. You clamped your ears against your head and so did your voice fall to a whisper. “I can’t.”

I wanted to huff at you, to whine and stomp my hooves, but I resisted. Something was wrong, and for once, even I could admit my theatrics might be out of place.

“I… Are you certain?” I insisted one last time.

“I am,” you said with finality. You then looked towards the open library door and made it clear that the discussion was over. “I should get back to my work.”

I didn’t know what else to say.

“All right,” I eventually offered, finding myself too dejected by your rejection to even kick myself for earlier refusing River’s offer. “Will I see you later tonight, at the very least?”

You hesitated, and for a moment, I resigned myself to another lonely train ride.

“Yes,” you said, however, and joy swept over me. “I’ll be there.”

“Really?!” I said with much more enthusiasm than I would have wanted. You stepped back a little, and I cleared my throat, composing myself. “That’s wonderful, Twilight, because if I may be honest, I—”

The words ‘I missed you’ caught in my throat, and a blush stained my cheeks. I remember blinking at you, smiling hesitantly as I inwardly chastised myself. Why in Equestria was I embarrassed?! There was nothing wrong with the statement! It’s not as though I were saying something I wouldn’t say to Fluttershy or Sweetie or any of my friends.

Well, of course you would think it was cute! You weren’t the one stammering before me like a smitten schoolfilly trying to say hello to her crush.

“If I may be honest...” I repeated, determined to finish my point, come rain or shine or infatuation. I smiled an earnest smile just like yours. “I missed you terribly this morning.”

Oh my dearest, what a smile you offered in return.

It did not last long. It was, if anything, the ghost of a smile, but darling, if one could fall in love with ghosts, then I fell in love with your smile. Yes, I know that metaphor doesn’t make much sense, but I’m trying to be poetic for you.

You pushed the smile away, however, and cleared your throat. “Well. I better go back,” you said. You wished me well and then retreated back into your impenetrable fortress while I was left to sit there, sigh theatrically and make my way towards the castle kitchens, hoping I might find some company to eat with.

X. Missing You

Despite what I’d hoped for, things did not improve after our brief meeting.

You did, in fact, arrive at the train station later that night, but talking to you was akin to talking to a stranger while on a daily commute. You engaged me in short, unimportant small talk as we waited for the train, and the only thing that struck me as odd was a distinct impression that you didn’t want to go home.

You sighed when the train arrived, and when the doors slid open and the conductor trotted out, you seemed reluctant to board. There was a chance you’d always been this way, true, but we were usually so enraptured in each other that I hardly ever cared or noticed for anything else.

When we finally boarded the train, you suddenly took charge, quickly moving through the crowd of tired ponies, and disappeared inside one of the private cabins. When I entered moments later, you were already seated by the window, your bags firmly placed right next to you—on the very same seat I had grown used to sleeping on.

It hurt, but I got the hint.

Now, now, sweetheart. It’s in the past, and more than that, it means you cared. It was an obvious plea for attention, no matter how much you thought it wasn’t, and I would know for I excel in attracting attention to myself.

It was the first of a few silent train rides we would take together. Curiously, I missed you even more than when you were gone. And it hurt to know that I, for some reason beyond me, was the problem.

The next morning fared no better. You arrived with coffee, threw small talk at me, senseless words that masked what you really felt, and again you placed your bags on the seat next to you. Before I even asked, you told me you’d be working all day and would not be able to have lunch with me or anything else.

I don’t think I’d describe your actions as biting your nose off to spite your own face. You weren’t trying to spite anyone, were you? You only aim to solve problems, to better everypony’s life. That’s what you had been tasked to do. Solve friendship problems.

Well, this one was a romance problem; one that involved your best friend in the entire world, and the object of your affections. And so you did as you’d learned and solved the problem by removing the source of conflict.

Yourself.

It’s true what they say. You don’t know what you have until it’s gone. Without you, the castle suddenly felt empty and cold. I was a socialité through and through, but as much as I could talk to whoever I wanted, it all felt so… so insincere.

They wouldn’t come and fetch me at my workshop. They wouldn’t plan out lunch dates to restaurants I’d never been to, or restaurants where I could try something new. They didn’t fill the air with fun facts about the city, about history, about life and everything else.

I racked my brain, trying to figure out what I’d done wrong. I knew I could be, well, over-dramatic, but surely I hadn’t done anything that warranted you to avoid me! It was maddening, upsetting, aggravating, and well, you’re practically a thesaurus, you can imagine the rest of the list.

I didn’t even care for romantic feelings anymore. My friendship to you was seemingly crumbling before me.

The next day was our day off. As I lay in my chaise longue in Carousel Boutique, I debated what to do, but just like before, I found myself faced with a problem: I was still just a new friend.

I didn’t know you like the back of my hoof, like I knew Fluttershy or Pinkie or the others. In fact, nopony in Ponyville could say differently, so there was nopony that could advise me on how to approach you or how to solve whatever issue you were having.

Nopony could, but…

But somedragon might.

Yes, I talked to Spike, and no, of course you didn’t know. He would never tell you. What do you mean why not?

This is the thing you fail to understand, Twilight.

This is why Spike ran away rather than outright confronting you for attempting to pursue me. Because regardless of the intensity of his infatuation for me, whether it was a mere crush or something more, whatever love he had and will ever have for me or anypony will always pale in comparison to the one he has for you.

So, I waited until you’d gone to do errands, and with a heavy heart, I knocked three times on the door of Golden Oak Library.

The door opened moments later, and a dear baby dragon peered out, his eyes illuminating at the sight of me.

“Oh! Rarity!” he exclaimed, quickly subduing his foalish grin, clearing his throat and combing back his scales. He was adorable. “Oh. Uh. Hey, Rarity.”

“Well, well, well! If it isn’t my darling dragon! Fancy meeting you here!” I said with a dazzling smile, and then giggled when he looked thoroughly confused.

“Uh. This is where I live.” He frowned, much like you do. The apple truly doesn’t fall far from the tree. “I thought you knew that…”

“Sweetheart, I was teasing,” I said. “I actually came here to ask for your very important advice.”

“Really?!” he exclaimed. “Well, you came to the right place. I give the best advice.”

He ushered me in, hastily clearing the room, and all throughout I could see traces of you. Books half-read, reports half-written, and that unmistakable scent of old books, fresh ink, and oak wood. With a side of embers, of course.

I settled down in the reading room, not feeling up to perusing the library and its books. Is it strange to say I felt oddly unwelcome? If you didn’t seem to want me in a train, how would you feel of my presence in your home? I sighed theatrically, though I cannot rightly tell if it was because I truly felt desolate or because I felt my situation called for a bit of drama. Maybe both. Maybe neither.

“Here you go!”

Spike stepped into the room, balancing a tray with two cups of tea. I remember thinking how you’d once remarked he disliked tea. I remember smiling. I thought it to be an endearing trait of him, to do things he disliked simply for my sake.

A trait that I would later find out he learned from you.

“Thank you, Spike,” I said, taking the tea in my magic, watching as trace amounts of steam rose into the air and vanished.

He nodded and ambled off towards an opposite couch, crawling up onto it and sitting down. He was remarkably bad at hiding how much he hated the scent of the beverage, but I graciously elected to look past it. It was amusing to see his face scrunch up in distaste.

“So, what’s up?” he asked unceremoniously. “What advice do you need?”

I sat up, carefully selecting my words. “Well, I…” I leaned back and looked away with a grand sigh. “It’s Twilight.”

He blinked. “Twilight?” he asked, concern etched on his face. “What do you mean?”

I huffed, taking a sip of tea as I thought.

“She’s been acting strangely as of late,” I said finally, vaguely, not really wanting to outright state what I knew to be true. To state it would make it real. “She seems upset. Do you know why? Has something happened?”

And he looked genuinely confused. He swallowed, gripping his teacup and frowning at the floor. “I…” He looked up at me. “She hasn’t told me anything.”

And I knew that was not a lie. Now, in this moment, it seems obvious to me why you never addressed the issue with him, why you took matters into your own hoof rather than talking it out, but back then… Well, back then, the idea that not even Spike knew what was wrong was troubling indeed.

I couldn’t help but think I must have done something truly catastrophic!

“Why? Why do you think something’s wrong with her?” he asked, straightening up.

“I…” I faltered. I didn’t want to say it! And especially less so because I didn’t know why! So I whined piteously and made a show of jutting my lower lip out in an absolutely adorable pout. Like this, see. Anyway… “I think she’s cross with me.”

“With you?” he asked, his eyes wide.

“Yes!” I exclaimed, putting my cup down on a nearby table and letting out a charming whine. Yes, my whines are charming. “And I haven’t the faintest idea why! I simply cannot for the life of me think of anything I could have done to upset her, but here we are!”

“But, how do you know she’s upset with you? How could anypony ever be upset with you?” he intelligently asked, and it was true!

“I don’t know! But the impossible has happened. Ever since Monday night, she’s acted as though she’s wanted nothing to do with me! Avoiding me in the castle, avoiding me in the train, and I don’t—”

“Wait,” he cut me off, looking far more serious than an adorable baby dragon had the right to be. He faltered, swallowing, and suddenly he was the one who seemed to not want to speak. “She’s been acting that way since Monday night?”

“Yes,” I replied, and I was foolish, blind to what was clearly going on behind Golden Oak’s bark. “We were at the train station talking, and she suddenly left in a hurry for no reason, and ever since it’s like I’ve been demoted to a mere acquaintance in her life.”

And he went silent.

He went silent for the longest time, staring down at his untouched tea, but before I could prompt an answer, he spoke up.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, my darling,” I replied, thrown off. “Anything.”

His gaze met mine, and I wished I could inch back in my seat. Analyzing others, it seemed, ran in the Sparkle family.

“Do you like Twilight?”

And there it was. The million bit question; the one that had been brushing my mind for the past week, always in the background and now brought to the forefront.

Did I like you.

It was true that such a question had many interpretations. It was true that it could have meant something innocent, pure and platonic, nothing outside the range of friendship and simple affection. But we both know what he meant, don’t we, dearest?

We both know, and I think that even back then, I knew too. And I remembered your words from that Monday night, the vague mention of Spike worrying himself into coming to find us, and so did the puzzle pieces click, so did the blindfold finally fall.

You liked me.

And now, sitting there on judgment day, the question was whether I liked you.

“Of course I like her,” I said, out of cowardice or fear to wound. “She’s my friend.”

What else could I say! It wasn’t as though I had lied! I had simply chosen to reply to something else. Do you even realize what kind of a position I was in?! It’s not an easy one, let me tell you!

And yet, you are clever, Twilight. You are clever and sharp when you have to be, and in that, you have taught Spike well, for he too realized what I had done.

His gaze never left me. Piercing like fire.

So he changed his approach.

“Rarity?” he asked. “Does she make you happy?”

The answer left my mouth unbidden.

“Yes,” I said, knowing but not fully grasping what I was saying.

I remember exhaling after that. Like a pressure had left my chest, like a burden had been lifted. Yes, you made me happy. It was as undeniable as the sun rises and the moon sets.

You had weaved yourself into my life, and it made me happy. Our silly tea and coffee routine; falling asleep next to you as you read; the beating of my heart whenever you knocked at the door to come fetch me for lunch; the silly smiles we shared when crossing paths in the castle’s hallways, you following Celestia and me, one of my clients; and how lonely the world felt when you were not there to be alone with me.

You made me as happy then as you make me now; you and that silly grin on your lips right now.

And so I told him the truth because even if it would hurt him, I couldn’t bring myself to lie to him. He deserved better.

“Yes, she does.”

He nodded. “Right,” he said, and it was painful how much he reminded me of you in that moment.

I felt like I had to say something, anything to relieve a tension I might have caused, but before I could do so, he took the tea and drank it all in one fell swig. He grimaced when it was done, sticking out his tongue, but he did it. I was proud.

And then, he jumped from his seat and onto the floor.

“Spike?” I asked, again thrown off.

He grinned at me. “Don’t worry about Twilight, Rarity,” he said, puffing out his chest. “I’ll take care of it, promise.”

He was brave. He was kind. And I remember thinking that if I was the element of Generosity, I had much to learn yet.

“Thank you, Spike,” I said, for everything that there was to be grateful for. “That would make me very happy.”

“Yeah,” he said, and I could see pain flash through his eyes. But before it stayed for long, he crossed his arms and frowned at me. “You have to make her happy too, huh!”

I laughed, tilting my head and fluttering my eyelashes. “But of course, darling! Not that it’ll be difficult, as I am ridiculously charming, you know?”

He laughed, and though he opened his mouth to speak, his stomach interrupted. It always has wonderful timing, that appetite of his.

The most becoming blush brushed his cheeks. “Er.” He looked up at me. “Do you want to go get cupcakes with me?”

“If you’ll have me, I’d like nothing more,” I replied. “It’ll be my treat, hmm? How does the twelve-pack sound?”

“Oooooooooooooh! Yes!” he clapped his claws together. He then grinned and teased, “now I wish Twilight got upset at you more!”

You were already at the station when I arrived the next morning.

The station was empty, as expected, and the three lone ponies waiting were all curiously watching as you mumbled to yourself, pacing around in circles with two cups of coffee floating behind you. If I remember correctly, you were wearing your striped black-and-blue scarf that day. I wish you wore it more often.

I slowed my pace as I approached you, not wanting to startle you out of your trance. You were mumbling too quietly for me to make out what you were saying, but whatever it was, it was clear you felt very passionate about. I wondered how long I could stay there, unnoticed and silent as I listened to the soft whisper of your voice.

"Care to share your concerns with the class, darling?"

You turned to me, startled by my sudden announcement of my presence. "Ra-Rarity!" you exclaimed, backpedaling a few paces until you hit a bench and then offered a yelp and an embarrassed smile. "I… Uh… What're you doing here?" you blurted out, wincing when you realized what a silly question that was.

"Well, as I thought you knew, my shift at the castle starts quite early," I pointed out, biting down at smile at your thoroughly vexed expression. I lifted my hoof, adjusted your scarf, and then asked, "Are you feeling all right?"

"Yes! Yes, I am!" you reassured me quickly. You then paused and took a breath. "I'm doing better."

"Excellent! You were acting rather strangely the past few days. I was concerned."

You turned away, ears lowering. "I know… I'm sorry, I just..." You shook your head. "It doesn't matter. I'm fine now."

You gave me my coffee, and we both waited in comfortable silence for the train to arrive. I think you were nervous about talking with me. Were you? I admittedly did not feel in a rush to talk—not because I didn't want to, mind—but because I had faith all was well.

We boarded the train when it arrived, and I noticed you made sure I led the way. A shame! I love it when you take command. You do it so well. That is why you've always been our leader, after all.

Once again, I sat down next to the window, and I noticed your face fall slightly at the sight. But you did not complain. Looking ever so dejected, you sat down on the opposite side, and made a show out of putting your bag several seats away, leaving a pony-sized empty spot next to you.

I ignored it.

I yawned instead.

"Going to sleep?" you asked with a smile that seemed forced.

I hummed, looking out through the window towards the sleeping town. "I'm not sure yet. I think I might read a book."

"O-Oh?" you asked, perking up. "What book?"

"'’The Ethereal Empire by Single Shade," I announced, taking the book out of my bag. “You were reading the first one some time ago, weren’t you? I must admit that one wasn’t entirely my sort of reading, but I liked it enough to purchase the sequel. I rather related to the main character.”

You hummed. “Ethereal Archives is different from the sequel. It focuses a lot more on the mystery of the universe than anything else, while the sequel delves into the aftermath and how it affected the characters.”

“Well, I can only hope that Single Shade actually does something with the romance in Empire. Going by the first book, romance really isn’t her forté. But, in any case...”

I cleared my throat, opening the book to the first page.

“Shall I begin to read? I had somewhat of a sore throat yesterday night, but it should be fine now.”

I said this as nonchalantly as I could, even if all my words were measured. Your reaction was immediate, ears going up and down alongside an indistinguishable look of cautious excitement.

“Wait,” you said, carefully, “you’re going to read out loud?”

I blinked innocently. “Oh, I had hoped to. Since you always read to me, I thought it might be nice to have a chance of pace. Buuuut…” I sighed with exaggeration, closing the book. “If you prefer I don’t, I can always read in silence, I suppose.”

“Nononono! You can read!” you exclaimed immediately, horrified by my suggestion. It was adorable, and I remember having a hard time suppressing a laugh. You gestured with your hoof. “Please!”

I didn’t open the book.

“Well. I would love to, but you know, I feel my throat itching ever so slightly. I don't want to strain it...” I tilted my head and patted the seat next to me. “Would you mind…?”

You didn’t hesitate.

Well, all right, you hesitated a little, but courage won over fear and you rushed over, sitting down next to me. I noticed you left a small empty space between us, which would simply not do. No, it would not do at all.

I cleared my throat, inching closer and eliminating the space between us. I took a second to bathe in the little noise you made as you held your breath, and after I was done, I opened the book and began to read.

“On the northwestern-border of Equestria and The Undiscovered West, at the edge of Luna Bay,” I read, smiling when you leaned against me, “rested a small forgotten village by the name of Moon Shine.”

Dawn turns to day
As stars are dispersed;
Wherever I lay,
I think of you first.

The sun as arisen,
The sky, a sad blue.
I quietly listen,
The wind sings of you.

The thoughts we each keep,
That are closest to heart,
We think as we sleep,
And you’re always my last.

~ Lang Leav, Love & Misadventures