Author's Note
I wrote most of this about two years ago during the first week after I'd left my home country to come to Los Angeles with aspirations of going into the film-making industry.
In about two weeks, I'm going back home for a week to see friends and family who waved me off to great fanfare and wishes of success and who are expecting many great stories about my time in LA, and I have really mixed feelings on that, so I finished my story.
Conversations
The wind blew gently through the trees, taking with it the leaves left behind in winter's embrace. Every step felt heavier than the last, every breath longer than the one before, and every minute shorter than the ones they had left.
Leaving was sad, she thought.
Staying was harder still.
Two ponies sat by the winding road of life, waiting and waiting for hours to crawl by. Their gazes were fixed upwards, towards the night sky and its stars, shining under the moon's embrace.
One was moving to Saddle Arabia to see new horizons; the other was staying behind to see nothing new. Now, they both sat there, enjoying their last hours together doing what they always did best.
Talking about everything and nothing together at once.
"Was this what you hoped it would be like?"
The words had left her mouth unbidden. She ruffled her wings and kept looking up at the constellations she knew like no other. Sometimes, when darkness crept and silence reigned, she wished she were the Princess of the Stars.
The unicorn next to her let out a long breath. "No."
Twilight did not look down, though guilt poisoned her heart. I'm sorry, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She felt awful for feeling that way, but maybe if things weren’t like what Rarity hoped they’d be like, then she might not leave at all.
"No," Rarity repeated as Twilight turned to her, "and I rather believe it's fitting. So many things in life don't turn out how we thought they would, do they?" She smiled and arched an eyebrow. "A certain Summer Sun Celebration comes to mind."
"Aren't you afraid?" Twilight asked.
"I'm sure tomorrow I will be," Rarity replied. She breathed in and out. "When I find myself all by my lonesome in an empty apartment in an unfamiliar city, I might weep on my discount couch while drowning my anguish in the ridiculous amount of cider Applejack has given me. But right now? Right now, I feel quite at peace."
Twilight looked up at the sky. "I'd be terrified."
"You'd be too busy going over your suitcases and checklists, darling."
"That too."
"I find it curious how you're fretting over me," Rarity said, "when once upon a time you moved away to an unfamiliar place too."
"That was different,” Twilight pointed out. “I didn’t think I’d be moving away permanently. I thought I’d be coming back, and even if I didn’t, I wasn’t leaving anything behind.”
The stars twinkled in the sky, one after the other, bright lights that would one day stop — if they hadn’t already. Distant lights that were nothing more than the energy of something long, long gone.
Six stars shone in Ponyville, and it hurt to see six reduced to five. How much longer till five turned to four, then three, then two, and then all that was left would be her?
“I thought of staying,” Rarity confessed. “I thought of cancelling last night.”
“What?” Twilight gasped, and it surprised her that she did. Hadn’t she wanted to hear just that all night? “Why? You can’t!”
“Of course I can’t,” said Rarity with a smile. “Did you forget the absurdly extravagant going away party thrown in my honor two days ago? To not leave after that would be more than bad form.” She paused, and the world paused with her until she continued, “I suppose I am afraid, after all.”
It was always shocking to Twilight when Rarity displayed vulnerability, to see that the confidence she exuded was sometimes merely a mask.
“You shouldn’t be,” Twilight insisted, saying things that were true but hurt nonetheless. “You’ll be amazing. Princess Celestia has a lot of connections over there, and she already promised to help you. If anyone can do this, it’s you, Rarity. We’re all very proud of you.”
“I suppose that’s true,” said the unicorn with a theatrical sigh. She then grinned and winked at her friend. “I am Rarity, unicorn extraordinaire, am I not?”
Twilight playfully rolled her eyes. “Right,” she said, and her heart felt lighter until Rarity’s expression darkened just slightly.
“What if I can’t?” she asked. “What if I can’t make it? What if I really am just chasing a pipe dream?”
“You can always come back,” Twilight offered, and her suggestion was met with a very unusual statement.
“You know,” she said, “I think I finally understand Applejack.”
“What?”
“How running away to Dodge Junction was better than coming home after losing that rodeo contest.” She hesitated, doubtless knowing the implication of her words, and continued. “After a year of preparing and everypony telling me they’re so proud of me… All of that just to come back to Ponyville because I wasn’t able to make it in Saddle Arabia? It’s awful to think about.”
“No, it isn’t,” Twilight protested, both for Rarity’s sake and to defend her town and way of living. “There’s nothing wrong with coming back.”
Rarity smiled thinly. “Ah, but you’re only saying that because you don’t want me to leave.”
“That’s not true,” Twilight protested, finding herself now rather irate. “And it isn’t nice of you to think that’s what I meant when you know that it’s not.”
Cold air brushed between them until Rarity gave a peace offering in the shape of a smile.
“It’s a little true, though, isn’t it?” she asked cheekily.
“A little true,” Twilight conceded, even if they both knew it was more than just that. “But I mean it. There’s nothing wrong with coming back, but you won’t, because you’ll be as successful in Saddle Arabia as you are in Equestria.”
“Now, that I hope is true.”
“It will be,” said Twilight. “And no matter what, I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you, darling,” said Rarity. “I am too.”
Twilight had meant it, of course, and she’d mean it again when four, five years later, a unicorn came home, cutting her losses and stashing her dreams.
Five stars tasked themselves with unpacking more luggage than they could count, allowing the sixth one—shining considerably less brighter, but shining nonetheless—to lie on her couch and be.
“You lied to me, Twilight,” she said in tears, smiling to the alicorn floating decorations around. “You said I would make it.”
“You did, though,” Twilight insisted. “This isn’t not making it. It’s just… doing things differently.”
“Doing things differently,” said Rarity with a dry little laugh. “It’s hard to do things differently.”
“It is,” Twilight said, and repeated like she did long ago, “But no matter what happens next, I’m still proud of you.”
“Thank you, darling,” said Rarity sincerely. “One day, I’ll be proud, too.”
