It's a true story, darling
Twilight Sparkle never understood the quiet sorrows of taverns, never saw them for what they were.
They were just a restaurant, a bar, something of that ilk and nothing more.
I, on the other hoof, thought quite differently, and as we sat there at the end of the bar, my spoon clinking against my drink, I thought about the quiet sorrows of this tavern.
“What’re you thinking about?”
My eyes left the lone stallion drinking his health away and landed on the mare seated besides me, her tired eyes searching mine as she rested her cheek on a hoof. She looked so tired, my poor dear companion. The weight of the years shone on her face, in the wrinkles that had started to appear, in the gray hairs that coloured her mane, in her smile that was no longer eager but… at peace.
“I’m thinking that you look tired, darling,” I said, and couldn’t help a laugh at her unimpressed expression.
“You’re saying I look old,” she corrected, levitating a fry from the nearby bowl and eating half.
“Well, I didn’t say it quite like that, but aren’t we all old now?” I asked, and no sooner had I finished the question, so did it actually weigh on me. “Goodness, when Flurry Heart asked me for advice on her wedding the other day, I felt positively ancient.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “She’s getting married very young, Rarity. You know that.” Twilight frowned. “Too young, actually. Shining and I wish she’d wait a bit more, but Cadance…”
Her frown melted away.
“Cadance is Cadance,” I finished.
We looked at each other, and though it must have been only a moment, it felt much longer than that, our expressions saying more than words could hope to do.
“What were you really thinking about?”
I glanced around, at this tavern and its patrons, and turned back to her.
“Stories,” I said, simply. “I was thinking about stories.”
“What kind of stories?”
I sighed.
“Sad stories,” I said wistfully, only for her rude snort to interrupt my mood. I turned to her and met her twinkling eyes. “What?”
“Nothing,” she said, levitating another fry her way. “You’re just you.”
“What? What’s that supposed to mean?!”
“Nothing.”
“Come on, out with it!”
“Nothing, Rarity!” she said with a grin. She took yet another fry and regaled me with her full attention. “So, what sad stories were you thinking about this time?”
I looked away. “None that I’m interested in sharing with you, thank you very much,” I said, and her laughter rang through the air.
“Rarity,” she said, as if I were weak enough that I might be swayed by her murmuring my name.
“It’s late, anyway!” I continued, looking at her and stealing the fry she was levitating to her mouth. I waved it at her. “You have to catch a train to Canterlot in about an hour, and I…”
I faltered, my eyes landing on the silver wedding ring at the base of her horn. A beautiful silver wedding ring that my horn distinctly lacked.
“Well,” I continued, “as you know, I’m going to go to the boutique and lament that Pinkie was right.”
“Pinkie was right?”
“Yes,” I said somberly. “I’m an old, single cat lady.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “You’re an old, single cat lady. Right.”
I took my drink and swished it around. “Then again, it could be worse.” I gestured to the afore-mentioned drunken stallion, the poor dear now clutching his bottle as he sniffled his woes away. “What do you think happened to him?”
“Bad day?” I gave her and her uninspired reply a pointed stare. “...A really bad day?” I continued to stare and she rolled her eyes. “Okay. Fine. I don’t know, maybe his partner broke up with him?”
I hummed, my mind at work. “Mmm, possibly. It is a rite of passage, after all. You haven’t truly lived life until you’ve found yourself drunkenly sobbing at a bar at one point.” I looked at her and nodded wisely. “Celestia said that.”
“Celestia has never said that.”
“Celestia’s been alive for thousands of years, so statistically speaking, it’s very likely she said it at one point.”
“You’re very silly, Rarity,” she said, resting her cheek on her hoof again. “And very bad at statistics.”
I tilted my head and leaned in, letting the bar fade away as I focused on her. “That’s why I have you.”
“For statistics?”
“For statistics,” I replied, and though I’d have usually withheld any other reasons, I felt generous. She was leaving in an hour, and she was tired, and she was my dearest friend. I raised my hoof and brushed back her bangs, her eyes closing and a smile curving her lips as I did so. “And many reasons more.”
“And many reasons more,” she repeated, tasting every syllable in her mouth. Her curiosity compelled her. “So, does this mean you also cried at a bar?”
“I did, and it was a very sad, ugly affair, I’ll have you know. They had to mop the place afterwards.”
“What did you cry about?”
My eyes never left hers.
“Care to take a guess?”
She stared at me for one, two, three seconds, took me in and reflected on who I was as an individual. She could have made a joke, as she felt inclined to do, but there was a challenge to be had if she took my question seriously.
So she did.
“You regretted something,” she ventured. “A missed opportunity.”
“Poetic, but no. It wasn’t that.”
Her eyes narrowed in concentration, and she bit down on her lips, traces of her younger self resurfacing in minute details.
“Hm…”
“You remember, don’t you?” I said, almost whispered. “How I used to harbor quite the crush on you when we were young?” I leaned back, regarding her with the affection that had never died. “How I’d make up any excuse to spend time with you? Surely, you remember, or know, at the very least.”
Her expression was undecipherable, torn between trying to understand and trying to decide what to do or say.
She made a choice.
“I… gathered as much?” she said carefully, confused, concerned.
“You were you, Twilight, and as you said, I was only me. So I cried not for missed opportunities, but because I knew…” I took a pause. “Well, I suppose I knew I didn’t stand a chance.”
“Rarity, I—”
“And so I wept,” I continued, forcefully talking past her, needing to get the confession out now that it was there. “And so I asked to meet you today, Twilight, before you left, to… to confess that I regret all the choices I’ve made that led to me not having a ring on my horn.”
A long pause followed.
Long, and long, and longer still, as her eyes flickered between the base of my horn and my eyes.
She frowned at me, and I expected it.
I’d made my choices, and now I had to live with them, and it was fine.
“Rarity,” she said carefully, “this was the most Rarity thing you’ve done in a while, and I’m still debating if that's a good or bad thing.”
I stood my ground. “I'm sure I have no idea what you mean, Twilight.”
She spoke up again.
“Well, thank you for telling me this,” she said, and I will admit I felt very concerned when she suddenly smiled. “Thank you very much.”
“...You’re not upset?” I asked.
“No, mostly because this explains why you’ve been so upset recently. It also gives me the chance to do this.”
Now I was confused. Very, very confused.
“I… What?” I asked, and was even more taken aback when she stood up, reached into her saddlebag and took out a red jewelry box.
“Twilight, what are—”
“Rarity,” she said, not kneeling but almost. She offered me a smile and opened the box to reveal a wedding band identical to hers. “Will you do me the honor of taking better care of your wedding ring, please?”
“Twilight!” I gasped, overjoyed, as I grabbed my ring. “How did you find this?!”
“Spike found it,” she said, sitting back on her chair. “Near the castle gates. I was actually planning on putting it on your desk and not saying anything so you didn’t feel worse about having lost it, but…” She smiled playfully. “You took care of that.”
“I was a little dramatic, wasn’t I?”
She snorted. “A little?”
“Well, even so, I wasn’t lying! You were too good for me.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said, levitating my ring and putting it on my horn.
“I’m not,” I insisted. I leaned in and fluttered my eyelashes. “I never stood a chance at not falling in love.”
Author's Note
Other ships that are way more popular: Mono, it's time to come to us. You need to let it go. You've done much for RariTwi, but we're cruise liners compared to the unpopular canoe that is RariTwi.
Me, every damn time:
Written for the prompt: "I never stood a chance, did I?" "That's the sad part. You did, once." for the sake of the real plot twist of ME NOT GOING FOR THE ANGST FOR ONCE
