Twilight's Red Velvet

5

“Glad you could make it, Rarity!”

“Well, of course I was happy to help; it’ll be no problem at all.”

“Oh, how wonderful!”

Rarity peered deep into her coffee, using her magic and a coffee straw to manipulate a cube of sugar floating aimlessly in the black puddle. Rarity had started the business of matchmaking about two or three weeks earlier to her current meeting; however, she never expected her friends to be knocking on her door so soon. Her mother, Betty Bouffant, worked as a word-of-mouth matchmaker alongside her Equestria-wide spa business; Rarity figured she could do the same in Ponyville. Though her mother’s matchmaking name never took off, Rarity was certain that with a little more love and attention given to the peculiar profession, she could grow much bigger than her predecessor ever could. Betty Bouffant had first given the idea to Rarity after sending her a postcard bragging about the tropics of an island on the Eastern borders of Equestria, a future site for yet another spa resort branding her name. However, instead of taking it as a friendly gesture, Rarity found a dueling hint in her mother’s words and thus took them in full.

“Did you know it’d be this packed, Rarity? I had trouble just finding you amidst the crowd!” Twilight took her seat in front of Rarity, checking her cup of coffee to make sure it hadn’t cooled, “I thought you said this meeting would be private.”

Rarity looked up from the glass for a moment before returning to its hypnotizing state, “Yes, well, it turns out the most humble café in Ponyville accepts reservations on a holiday weekend. I thought this would be the ideal place for this kind of meeting, but apparently, I was wrong.”

“Rarity, are you alright?” Twilight’s concern emanated from her voice, “You don’t sound too well, should I go?”

“No, no, darling, it’s quite alright,” Rarity dropped another cube of sugar into her coffee. When she first began looking into the business of formulating couples, Rarity figured it would consist mostly of mathematics and chemistry; but upon checking out, and abandoning, a variety of books on the subject matter, she discovered that it was more about whom you knew, rather than what. Unfortunately, no library in Ponyville offered such advice on how to start a matchmaking business, so instead she followed Pinkie’s example, if not for a week, and made it her goal to greet every living soul that passed her by, a tip given by her current client, Twilight Sparkle. As Rarity could recall, the first few days went swell, she would wave, spark up a conversation, and the two would part ways. By the third and fourth days, however, Rarity came to the realization that due to her fame, everypony in Ponyville already knew everything about Rarity; recent success in the fashion business had led Rarity down a road of popularity, leaving conversations a whole lot shorter than they should’ve from a friendship standpoint. On day six, Rarity spend her time acquiring blueprints for Sugar Cube Corner and writing a plan on how to rob Pinkie’s underground vault, a supposed basement containing profiles of everypony in Ponyville. That night, she dressed in the darkest, most fashionable ghillie suit in hopes to avoid detection while infiltrating her local bakery. As Rarity soon discovered, Pinkie Pie hatched that rumor to catch a notorious robber whom she described as “sugary goodness”; Rarity spent the rest of that night strapped to a metal table, counting the number of times Pinkie said the word of the day: “ka-blooie”. On day 7, Rarity spent her day at home with a cup of tea, staring out her window trying to forget the week; she never really picked up the matchmaking name since. Why Twilight had decided to give her a shot regardless was up for interpretation.

Twilight blankly gazed at her host, a bit confused by her lack of expression. Twilight being new to the dating scene was an understatement; in fact, the number of sexual partners she’d had in the last ten years could be counted on a single hoof, but even that was giving her a little too much to work with. As such, Rarity had always been interested in Twilight’s “special” case. For what it was worth, Twilight was considered a “very attractive mare” with a few minor quirks. Still, if that were the case, Twilight should’ve had several potential mates knocking on her door. Rarity knew there must’ve been something she’s been doing to keep them away and she had doubts whether an obsession with books was that big of a turn-off. If she could only advise her to do certain things a particular way, then her job of finding the local librarian a lover would do itself. Unfortunately, her job description wasn’t about helping ponies find lovers, but rather finding lovers for them.

“So, how should we begin?” Twilight Sparkle pulled a quill and pad from a saddlebag, ready for her mentor’s instructions. Though Rarity had agreed to start the meeting under the banner of a “consultation”, the complexity of her wannabe business was so ridiculously redundant, she found it better to figure everything out over a single coffee break.

“Hm?” Rarity awoke from her daze, feeling a little flustered by the whole situation, “Oh, uh, tell me about . . . what kind of mare you’re looking for.”

“Huh?” Twilight appeared shocked by the question, “Oh, sorry, Rarity. I’m not into mares. I’ve never really been that kind of girl, you know? I’m sure you understand.”

Rarity blinked, feeling off-put by the response, “You’re not into mares?”

“Uh, no.”

Though the question should’ve felt like routine, something about it hit her internally, “Very well then . . . what kind of . . . stallion, are you interested in?”

Rarity gave it her all trying not to choke by the end of the sentence. Twilight glanced toward the skies for an answer, “Well, I’m looking for somepony smart, but nothing to outsmart me. But you know, I’ve heard it’s good to learn from your partner, at least, that’s what I’ve read,” she shook her head, returning to the topic, “Oh, somepony brave, outgoing, defensive, but doesn’t pick fights. I’d like somepony talkative, but no one to keep me up past eight.”

“Any kind of pony you’d like in particular? Pegasus? Earth pony? Unicorn?” Rarity began to cross out all the contradictions in her client’s description.

“Hmm, I don’t know, that’s a tough question. Naturally, I’d go for a unicorn. My brother always told me to keep it in the family . . . because unicorns are like blood. Not because . . . well.”

Rarity dodged the increasingly more interesting subtopic so she could attempt to stay professional and return home early. For whatever happened today, she knew that a fainting couch would be waiting for her back home, “What kind of pony, darling?”

“Well, obviously, unicorn, because that’s me; but I’ve always found a fondness for earth ponies. They’re always so hardworking; I can’t help but adore them!”

“Perhaps it’d be best to date Applejack,” Rarity bit her lip, downing the steaming hot cup of coffee only to inflict more pain.

“Oh, dear, no I couldn’t. One, I don’t date mares, and two, that goes against my personal cannon,” Twilight twiddled her hooves, rubbing them against the table uncomfortably, “But, do you think she’d like that?”

Rarity shot a look, silencing the violet mare before explore that genre any further, “Yes, darling, and why is you don’t date mares again? Is there . . . something wrong with us as ponies?” Rarity began counting the seconds she was allowed in the “danger zone”; though she was well aware of the consequences, she was more concerned with getting an answer she could appreciate.

“Huh? N-No, Rarity, not at all. I-It’s just . . . not my thing, you know?”

Rarity could hear the clock ticking louder; she had to turn things around, if only she wasn’t obsessed, “Maybe it’s because you haven’t tried it, Twilight. I’m sure you’ll find a bit to boast about if you did.”

It was a bold move, but Rarity was done playing games. She’d done everything she could to garner the mare’s attention and with little success; she was ready to go all in.

“Rarity . . . I,” Twilight appeared speechless. Rarity spotted a luscious red blush starting to form over her client’s cheek; she was winning, “I don’t want to get entangled, that’s all.”

“Entangled, darling,” Rarity whipped her mane behind her, confident in her success, “what makes you say that? It’s quite alright.”

“Well, you see, I just don’t think it’s right. There are plenty of stallions who would want to date me. Isn’t the meaning of our existence to create spawn?”

“If there are so many stallions, why did you come to me?” Rarity threw her hooves onto the table, “Entangled? Hah! I’ve never heard of such balderdash. I am perfectly fine!”

A panel of eyes had redirected their attention toward the two mares in the middles; Twilight dropped a tear in the dirt beneath her seat.

“Oh, um,” Twilight began to peer down at her own cup of coffee; Rarity covered her mouth, instantly realizing the full-effect of her words, “Sorry, Rarity. I-I didn’t know you were into that. I guess I should’ve known, you being a fashion pony and all.”

“What? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Listen, Rarity,” Twilight stood from her chair, realizing her meeting was going nowhere, “I think I’m going to go now, but . . . if you’re up for it, we’ll meet again in a few days. I’d still like your business. Let’s just . . . keep it professional from now on, okay?”

Rarity slumped her shoulders as low as they could possibly go, watching the bright purple mare trot out of her sight, “The most perfect hoof . . .,” she muttered, taking leave of her own before she collapsed, “it was in my reach and I blew it.”

Rarity pushed herself through the crowd of ponies with faint hopes she could reunite with Twilight. Rarity had waited a year for that moment. The number of times she’d dreamed of making Twilight’s fancy were beyond the stars. She’d already begun to plan outfits and ceremonies for the momentous occasion at hoof. It would be like a ball every day for her. Through the taste of coffee in her mouth, Rarity could still imagine the vanilla icing cake she’d planned for their anniversary as a couple. They’d eat it in bed beside a pile of books, no doubt; but at least they could be together for the whole day. Rarity could remember the extensive thought she’d put into her fantasies. It would take a few strings to be pulled, but she wanted that whole day to be spent beside and inside her.

As Rarity lingered through the streets, she could do nothing but curse the world around her for her misfortunes. All around her were reminders of what she could’ve done; Twilight was more innocent than a bunny in one of Fluttershy’s baby-baskets, so all she had to do was lure her in.

“Damned order,” She spat, digging her hoof in the dirt. It was a busy week for Rarity. As the Spring Dance in Canterlot had begun to pick up traction with an approaching deadline, ponies from all over Ponyville had already begun to send in their orders. Rarity figured she’d have enough time to finish a fourth dress later in the night, but got caught up as she soon discovered the struggle of trying to manage her magic under the influence of a fifth cup of coffee.

“Damned sewing machine,” Rarity gagged, spotting her home not far from where she stood. During her night of work, Rarity began to have troubles with the threading. With her heightened magical sensitivities, Rarity fought with her sewing machine, as well as her horn, to thread the machine. Within no longer than an hour’s time, she found herself wrestling the red beastie amongst piles of fallen fabrics.

“Damned coffee,” she hacked, inserting a key into the boutique’s front entrance. It was true she’d been making attempts toward cutting coffee from her life. Time after time again, she convinced herself it would be more sophisticated if she merely stuck with tea; but after a week of trial and error with several tea brands, she could never replicate the “kick” given by coffee. It wouldn’t take much for Rarity to admit to her addiction to coffee in recent days; sometimes, it was all she ran on. Though, she couldn’t help but feel guilty after a long night of drinking the stuff and crashing beside her bed, not quite making it to the covers. It was shameful, she recognized, abhorrent and utterly disgraceful from her stance as the sophisticated Canterlot mare she so posed to be. She wanted to make changes, but Twilight’s favor had ended up being the greatest, and undoubtedly lost, ultimatum.

Though it was true Rarity’s lack of coherency was due to chemicals and machine complexities, ultimately, all of the faults rested on Rarity’s shoulders. She had been the one responsible for taking that fourth order, drinking all those cups of coffee knowing fully the impact it’d have on her performance, and still sticking with her meeting times. Rarity always felt herself to be more blunt than benign, but she never knew herself to be such a quitter until now. As she fell upon her fainting couch, she did nothing to wipe the tears from her face. Rather, she let them fall upon the ground as though they were Twilight’s tender touch and the moments they would’ve shared if the world worked the way she wanted it to.

“Perhaps I could imagine Twilight being here with me now. Perhaps I could . . . live in my imagination, with all my creations,” She sobbed, petting a pillow as though it was her disobedient cat, Opal, “Oh, what am I saying . . . I’d probably mess that up too.”

And as the tears kept falling, Rarity officially reserved her spot at rock-bottom.

-

Twilight’s spoon screeched as it fell into her bowl of shabby soup. She never imagined her mother to be one for bold questions; perhaps that was the reason she really wanted to meet, to update her database of insecurities.

“Well, of course,” Twilight lied, only making herself feel more transparent than before. The way her mother was near glaring at her, it made her uncomfortable; she felt naked. Twilight entered the diner believing she was eating with a complete stranger, but as though a mechanic, her mother, Twilight Velvet, seemed to know every little nook and cranny to her mental being. Down to the way she was sitting in her chair, there was something far too peculiar for Twilight Sparkle to comprehend.

“Really? Tell me about him,” Twilight’s lie did nothing, as her mother seemed to take a keener interest in her daughter’s case. Any wrong word and she’d be found out. Twilight struggled to recall every book she’d ever read, anything to help her in the situation. Fantasy, romance, mystery; Twilight tried utilizing absolutely everything to help make her story seem more believable. Still, no matter what she threaded together, there was no beating the glint in her mother’s eye. It spoke to Twilight’s quivering subconscious, telling her to watch her step; she was as dangerous as a mother could be, “What’s he like?”

“Oh, well, we actually broke up a few months ago,” Twilight slurred, hoping to buy some time, and if she were lucky enough, avoid talking about the conversation altogether. Twilight Velvet leaned back; it seemed like she bought it, but still, nopony could be sure just by looking at her.

“Oh, now, that’s a shame,” She pressed her hoof against her lip, “I hope it wasn’t too harsh on you, Twilight; but I know you’re a very strong mare.”

“Th-Thanks, mom,” Twilight could feel the pressure alleviating from the situation, only to be replaced with an awkward rose-red blush forming along the ends of her cheeks. Regardless, she was beginning to shake her, “In fact, I’m the one who broke up with him.”

Wrong move, Twilight soon deduced as once again, the fire in her mother’s eye ignited once again. She lifted her glass of water, taking her second sip of the evening. “I hope he wasn’t too bad of a young colt; how long were you two together?” Velvet watched her daughter rearrange her silverware.

“Only about six months,” Twilight avoided making eye-contact, “It was nothing.”

“Ah, I see,” Velvet took another bite from her meal, “were you two serious?”

Twilight couldn’t believe the nerve, “I think it’s fair to say we were.”

Based on her expression, Twilight Velvet wasn’t amused, “Where did you two meet? Was he a unicorn?”

Twilight never imagined her mother to be the racist type either, but she nodded, playing along with her mother’s fantasies, “Yes, he was a unicorn,” she managed to cough on her soup; clearly, her mother was working on something as her eyes continued to peer deep into the young mare’s inner truth. Twilight began to pull scenes from her favorite novels, “We met on a train headed to Canterlot; we happened to sit together when he asked my name. I didn’t think anything of him at the time; it was during finals week and I knew Celestia would be planning to test me on everything I knew. I figured he was just being polite, but it turns out he was a really nice guy. We started talking and eventually he asked for my address in hopes he could send letters. I asked him his instead; I wanted to be the one to send the letters.”

Twilight took a deep breath, paying close attention to her story. Evidentially, it sounded nothing like something Twilight would do, but seeing how her mother was the least likely pony to catch on to something of the sort, she considered herself safe. Were she in the situation, twilight would’ve told the young colt her name, but then continued to either ignore him due to already knowing his motives and simply being shy, or goof the entire conversation up by being herself. Regardless, it’d be a minor catch, but crucial to unravelling her scheme. Unless her mother was the stalker type, nopony could truly justify her characteristics.

“That’s interesting,” Velvet traced the rim of her plate. Twilight could see her story beginning to fall into havoc, “I knew you were strong, but I always found assertive to be your . . . weaker suit. You were always . . . submissive.”

“Huh?” Twilight shook her head, trying to stay in the game, “Oh, well, it was all impulse; I’m glad I did that because we ended up having a very nice relationship together.”

“Lying wasn’t your strong suit either . . .,” Velvet dug her fork into the plate of spaghetti, “‘Ride Me Home to Canterlot’ by Horseshoe Davidspurs was the book of the month last fall. An odd choice, but now I’m glad I read it; I didn’t know you were into such saucy fantasies, Twilight. As your mother, I think it’s fair to say I disapprove of you reading such materials. Though, since you are an adult, I can’t dictate you on such matters.”

Twilight blushed, watching as her mother compromised her innocence as well as debunking her fattest lie yet. Velvet took a bite from a cherry tomato; far from through, she spoke with a venomously low mumble; she went for the kill, “And based on the fact that you’re into such things, I can imagine most of your winter nights are spent huddled next to a sweat-stained pillow. Who knows what other objects you’ve soiled due to obsession; it can’t be healthy for a mare your age to . . .”

Like a steam pipe, Twilight exploded, her pieces in the matter falling from the table, “YOU DON’T KNOW ME!” An audience of ponies drew their attention toward the two mares in the middle of the diner. Twilight had slammed her hoof hard against the table, nearly spilling her glass onto the rug below, “And I don’t know you . . .,” Twilight’s voice trailed off as she burst into tears, “I thought this meeting would be good because then I could get to know my mother. I never imagined she’d be as dense as you.”

A line of spectators began paying close attention to Velvet as her opportunity to reply required a very specific set of words in order for she and her daughter to be in good relations. Velvet sighed, shaking her head, “I’m sorry, Twilight. I know I wasn’t around for you most of the time . . . but I thought,” she paused, placing her fork on the napkin beside her, “I thought I could make it up to you. Look at where you are now, Twilight! I knew enough about you to know that you were a very special unicorn; now you’re the newly appointed princess of Equestria!”

The audience nodded with agreement; Twilight Velvet removed herself from her chair to comfort her daughter as she placed her hooves upon the weeping mare’s shoulder and gently lifted her chin. Twilight Sparkle, with tears in eyes, listened to her mother’s words: “I wanted to meet with you so I could finish what I started all those years ago; I wanted to know you for who you were, Twilight. I know you’ve been suspicious of me; I know what you’re like.” Velvet glanced about her environment, “This place brings back memories, Twilight.”

Through sniffles, Twilight whimpered, “Wh-Why’s that?”

“You know, before your father and I got married, he was quite an accomplished musician. He traveled all throughout Canterlot performing for various restaurants and diners and the like; his career was really quite impressive. I remember sitting in that exact spot,” Twilight Velvet pointed toward her empty seat, “when he came to me and offered to buy me a drink; what a smooth talker he was. I, of course, agreed, but something happened. I could see he wasn’t all he was stuck up to be; so I dug a little personal. We did get into a little argument, but seven months later, we were married. I suppose that’s fate,” she laughed, watching her daughter’s expression slowly brighten.

“R-Really? Is that really what happened?”

“Mhmm, now come on,” Velvet gestured Twilight to stand, “I’ve booked a hotel down the road from here; I don’t want you sleeping alone in some dangerous hotel on the other side of the city.” Twilight Sparkle nodded, following her mother’s instruction. Then, for what seemed like the first time in her life,

Twilight Sparkle hugged her mother.