“I’m breaking up with you,” Rarity snaps as she marches up to Soarin and raises herself to his height.
“No you aren’t,” he says placidly. He kisses her on the forehead and hands her a lunchbox. “The extra hayfries are to keep Dash away from your daisies. I’ll see you tonight!”
And he trots out the front door quite happily for somepony who has to fly all the way to Cloudsdale only to fly back in a few hours.
Hours that taunt Rarity for a lifetime.
For torturous hours, they pass quickly and uneventfully until lunch.
“Surely Twilight would be willing to take me on as a protégé. Over time we could develop a relationship that transcends simple apprenticeship and we become so intertwined yet unfathomably distant that we simplify our bond to that of ‘family’ to appease all but ourselves.”
Rainbow blinks at Rarity from across the restaurant table. “I don’t get it, haven’t you known Twi for like, years already?”
“I suppose you’re right,” Rarity relents. Twilight already has Spike as a sidekick/other-half-but-family, and three’s a crowd. Besides, her joining would tip the affection distribution scales to her side with Spike still perhaps harbouring feelings for her – she still hasn’t figured out the status of that – and she’s not looking for something that complicated.
Rainbow peers into Rarity’s lunchbox and deftly swipes a few hayfries. “I’m pretty sure Soarin’ll get along fine with your pops. Aren’t they the same age?”
“Rainbow Dash, I will literally kill you.” Rarity rubs her forehead. “Soarin is an ageless angel in the form of my soulmate.” She then drops her hooves to the table and sighs theatrically. “And he’s about to realise why he should have stayed in heaven.”
“Man, you’re making a big deal out of this,” Rainbow says – or at least that’s what Rarity translates from ‘globba globba I-eat-with-my-mouth-open globba’.
“No, you’re not making enough of a deal out of this. Have you any experience in having your partner meet your parents? Do you know of the tales of horror?”
Rainbow, thankfully, swallows. “Dude, you serious? Have you met my parents? The never shut up about me – and, like, it’s hard to, I get it.” She scoffs in a way that makes Rarity wish she choked on all those fries, just a bit. “But I would just bring someone over, no plans or whatevs. Tell ‘em my parents are weird like all parents, go through the motions, and then hang in my room or whatever. No biggie.”
Somedays Rarity wishes her life could be as simple as Rainbow Dash’s. But then she quickly remembers Rainbow Dash once flooded Apple Acres because Apple Bloom had a photo of her in a pink tiara.
Some ponies just can’t reel in their reaction levels.
Rainbow continues. “Haven’t you had a bunch of boys over? Did you not have, like, a rebellious phase?” she scrunches her face. “Oh, is that why you don’t want him to meet the parents? They’ll expose all your wild rendevouz an’ stuff?”
It’s equally not worth it to argue that Rarity, a true lady, really hasn’t ever been that type of pony despite everyone’s predisposed ideas of her as it is to tell Rainbow Dash that you don’t pronounce the ‘z’ in pretty much any French word: you just have to lose some battles and its best to get to choose which.
Even when Rarity gives a non-committal hum and busies herself with her sandwhich, Rainbow doesn’t let it slide. “Rares? Have you ever brought someone home to meet your parents.”
“…never got that far.”
“What?”
“Never got that far,” Rarity says in one sigh.
“No kidding?” Rarity shakes her head, and Rainbow whistles. “Yo, that’s whack. No one? I’m talking even a friend at this point. Wait – have I ever met your parents?”
“That isn’t what’s important,” Rarity cuts in, then sighs. “Darling, this isn’t some non-committal preteen fling. I really think Soarin and I agree on many levels. The past year and a half has been –”
“Dude stop – year-and-a-half?!” Rainbow is almost too shocked to swipe the last of Rarity’s fries. “No wonder no one’s met your parents before. Dude, Soarin’s probably had a previous marriage end faster than that.”
Rarity is almost too incensed to magically and forcefully shove those hayfries into Rainbow’s mouth. “Well what did you expect? I don’t live with my parents, and Soarin lives in an entirely different city. It’s not like they could coincidentally meet, and given I never desired for them to meet I certainly didn’t bring it up. But he mentioned it and – well, I couldn’t just start making excuses to avoid it. And,” Rarity almost doesn’t say, “I suppose if things go well, they do have to meet someday.”
Rarity expects Rainbow Dash, bold and brash and with very little tact, to make another joke. Maybe another absolutely original quip on Soarin’s age.
But instead, Rainbow gives Rarity an appraising look. She even chews and swallows before speaking. “You’re really committed to this thing, huh? Not just a romantic getaway – it’s the real deal for you, eh? Endgame?”
“Well. Yes,” Rarity breathes. “Yes, I really do feel like he could be – the one, if there is one. He’s grounded in his experience but youthful in his charm, and he balances me in a way that brings out the best in me, and I’ve never really –” she tries to search for the word, and so many come flooding to her mind when thinking of Soarin “– harmonised with somepony like this.”
Rainbow sniffs. “For real, huh? You do seem way happier with him. Then – why are you so worried? Even if meeting your parents goes bad, aren’t you guys, like, at the stage where others can’t screw you up?”
And there’s the catch; Rarity hasn’t exactly been put to words, even with Soarin, what her apprehensions are, and frankly she feels she would rather the whole world end altogether than try to come to terms with it, so she only says, “It’s not that I’m afraid we’re going to end up in some inconsolable situation; it’s that I’m afraid of having to continue on after he meets them.”
There’s probably a very hard limit on how considerate Rainbow Dash can be in any given week, and Rarity feels like she’s hit that ceiling hard when Rainbow cackles hoarsely. “Dude, I dunno what your deal is, but I’m glad I don’t gotta be the one to deal with it.”
“Oh, you’re so supportive,” Rarity murmurs dryly.
“Pal, I don’t gotta be. Now c’mon, hurry up and finish your sandwich so we can go waterboard Applejack.” Rainbow pushes Rarity’s food tin towards her. “I’d eat it for ya but I’m stuffed from all those hayfries. Can’t believe you packed so much.”
Rarity puts her worries away long enough to bite into her sandwich and is surprised by a playful helping of fries in it – though she opts not to mention this to Rainbow Dash and rather says, “Only if we demand Applejack officially knight me as an Apple today.”
“Geez, you’d rather the Apples than ol’ mom and pops-ity?”
“I’d even rather your parents.”
Rainbow blinks. “Dude, I can’t even imagine how bad they are, but it kinda explains why you’re so messed up.”
“Again, I’m glad I could talk this over with my most supportive and understanding friend.”
“Hey.” Rainbow grins in such a self-assured and conceited way Rarity is almost impressed. “I’m always here for you.”
It’s late sunset, and Rarity is pacing outside of her own house, mind on fire. Which is a little anti-climactic, given she and Dash spent most of the afternoon throwing water at Applejack – but perhaps it simply lends to how worried she is.
There isn’t much she can do at this point. Even if she does cancel, Soarin will likely try to reschedule being none the wiser. And how many times is Rarity supposed to put it off before her showing-up-on-time average plummets?
So when the sun dips down and the moonlight blinks off the stars, Rarity watches Soarin’s form approach steadily, and she steels herself.
He touches down at the main road, a block away from her house, and even from this distance the amount of sand that kicks up make Rarity’s fur itch.
Soarin waits for it to settle a bit, walks, dusts himself off, and resumes walking to Rarity with a massive grin. “Told ya I’d make it on time.”
Rarity smiles back at him and lifts her hoof, but Soarin pulls back a bit. “Hah, still a bit dusty, I think.” He flicks his tail. “Guess I didn’t leave the Wonderbolt at work. I’ll wash up before your parents get here.”
“Of course,” Rarity chuckles. “I saw the dust devil you kicked up there.”
It’s always easy to see the gleam in Soarin’s bright eyes, but in dark night it's like a beckoning. “Yeah, made a huge hole, too, it was awesome. Oh – uh, hope Twilight’s got the budget to fix that.”
“Looks like you forgot to leave the Rainbow Dash at work, too.”
“Au contraire,” Soarin puffs his chest out and lifts his head, “I’m not gonna goof this up. So – don’t worry about a thing tonight, ‘kay babe?”
So considerate; it makes it so much harder for Rarity to plot against him. “Darling, I would want you to come as you are. Goof or Wonderbolt. Just, ah, no dirt.”
They share a laugh and he eases up a bit, and Rarity hums thoughtfully to get his attention.
“I was with Rainbow Dash today.”
“I figured. You always complain about complaining to her. Did she eat your hayfries?”
“Oh! She fell right into your trap. Quite clever,” Rarity winks at him; she knows he got that intuition from spending time with her. “Anywho, Rainbow and I visited Applejack, just shooting the breeze for a few hours like friends do. Really got me thinking that I should’ve invited you, too.”
“I’ve met your friends,” Soarin comments. “’Specially Dash. Pretty sure I met her when she was just a filly screaming at our shows.”
“Oh, yes, she’s quite the piece of work. But my dear friend all the same – as are all the other girls.” Rarity smiles fondly. “We’re quite the diverse bunch.”
“Yeah, I guess. You match each other pretty well. And going through what you’ve all been through together, it’d be hard not to be friends.” Soarin clicks his tongue. “It’s almost like some destiny bond.”
“I think so too.” Rarity puts her hoof on Soarin’s floofy chest. “And that’s what I was thinking about. Soarin, lonely as it is to admit, my dear friends are my family. They’ve been through my worst and my best, seen my dark side when I couldn’t put my best hoof forward.” She looks down, and her voice drops with it. “And now you have, too. In meeting them throughout our relationship, I believe you have seen the family that will be forever ours.”
Soarin tips his head to the other side in the same motion he tips Rarity’s head up by the chin. “I believe your friends are your family too, babe.” He smiles. “Now I want to meet your family-family.”
“Well technically Applejack and I met twice as infants at the Apple Fair…”
“Rarity.”
Well, she tried. But he’s forced her to say it. She pushes away from him and looks away because she can’t stand to see his expression as she confesses, “I cannot lie to you any longer! The truth is – that I am too embarrassed of you to introduce you to my family!”
As silence settles between them, she can feel her eyes begin to sting. A heartbeat, two, and she dares to look up at him.
He meets her gaze unbothered. “Rarity, you tried to save our relationship by ruining our relationship this morning. Remember?”
Curse her limited repertoire and curse his laissez-faire attitude.
“C’mon, babe.” He steps up and nudges her along the bridge of her nose where his fits perfectly. “If there was anything to worry about, I wouldn’t have brought this up. But we both agree we want to keep this moving forward, and I think this is the next big step in our relationship. And, I want to meet the ponies that surrounded you from your first steps onward.” Rarity can feel his smile through the wrinkling of his snout. “They must be amazing to have raised someone so heavenly.”
Complimenting someone to soften the blow. Just how much has she inadvertently taught Soarin, and how much is he going to use against her? “I feel like the soil isn’t the only factor in growing the flower.”
He waits almost too long to say, “I guess”, and a moment longer still to pull back and level his gaze on her. “Listen: are you okay with this? I mean, normal worries aside. Is there something about this that’s actually – I dunno, dangerous? Uncomfortable? – for you?”
If she’s honest, she’d rather not say. Which is admittedly silly, because she’s fine confiding all sorts of her ridiculous or problematic hearsay with him. But this – she doesn’t want to tell him for the same reason she doesn’t want to do it.
But, if there’s one thing she learned from her conversations with Rainbow Dash today – besides that Applejack really does have a stuffed apple as a toy from her childhood, and that it's named "Mr. Red Bum" – it’s that there are some things you have to share if you plan to commit to someone, and with the right pony, you should feel confident in doing so.
Following Rainbow’s advice could be the worst possible thing to consider doing right now.
“Soarin...” And she stops, trying to find a place to start. “Well, as a young filly, I’m sure you can imagine I was quite the sight.”
He blinks. “I feel like every way to answer that is the wrong way.”
“Erm, then – as a student, I was very popular, naturally. But I still never had a, uh, coltfriend, per say.” She looks at the ground, even though she can’t really see it in the dark. “Never quite close, actually.”
“Is it because…teenage boys are ruffians?”
“No. Well, yes, but in this case no. I was the envy of all eyes, but – oh.” She takes a deep, chilled breath. “Everyone took quite the amusement in making fun of my parents. It was a decently regular affair, actually.”
“What?” Soarin snorts and paws at the ground. “So not cool. But we can mess them up now if you want. Put mud on their doorstep, or toilet paper all over their house. Do you remember who they were?”
By name, all of them. And their addresses – it’s a small town. But that wasn’t the point.
“I appreciate the concern, but this being said, my parents admittedly did give them a lot to work with.” She sighs again; this conversation is going to be the death of her by asphyxiation alone. “I suppose both parties could be blamed, but at the end of the day that doesn’t matter. What does matter is that no one would consider dating me because I came from ‘the weird family’. And, well – for most of my life, I suppose that feeling has stuck.”
Soarin gazes up at the sky in thought. “So… no one would date you because of your family, and you’re…scared of someone finally meeting them?” He looks back down. “Are you scared they’ll be right – that you shouldn’t be dated because of your family?”
When he puts it that way – it’s terrifying just to hear aloud. She nods meekly.
“Well, no worries there.” He flashes her a cocksure grin. “I’ve met some pretty bad families, but at the end of it I think if the pony is worth it, putting up with the family is just collateral. And I think you’re a thousand times worth it.”
“Oh, Soarin, you’re the sweetest.” She blinks up at him. “So you’ll understand if you never meet my parents then?”
He swallows. “Well, uh, that’s not what I meant.”
“But do we really need to do this? Aren’t there other things we could be doing right now?”
“It’s kind of an important step when you think about it. We gotta at least try, right? It might come back to bite us later!”
“But you just said!”
“I said if they’re whack, I’ll put up with it – for all I know they could be totally normal! Teenage boys like making fun of crap all the time. I used to.”
Rarity stuffs the urge to stomp her hooves. “Babeeey!”
“Rarity, babe.” He sighs. “How about we compromise? We’ll meet them this once, and if you still don’t like it, we won’t ever do it again. But you’ve got to at least try and face the fear.”
Oh, so she’s expected to get over her ingrained childhood fears now? “Hmmm.”
“They’re on their way anyways. Look, it’ll be no risk – no matter what happens tonight, I won’t break up with you.” He says it with a look that she can’t help but to believe.
“You’re putting a lot of trust in no one revealing jeopardising information about my past.”
Soarin smiles lopsided. “Yeah, I am.”
Well, she’s no reason to say no except to be stubborn. And that’s a Rainbow Dash thing, so she might as well take this leap of faith – that’s what love is about, right?
Rarity leans into him again – dust be damned, she could use a bit of reassurance right now. “All right, we’ll do it your way. But you promised: no matter what!”
“No matter what,” he whispers back. “’Sides, I’m confident those kids were just being brats. At that age, who’s dating based on family?”
“Exactly,” Rarity says back. “Besides, outside of that uncontrollable factor I was positively perfect.”
“Perfect?” he hums, amused.
“Yes. And so are you. We’re perfect – with flaws of course, but perfect inclusive of them. Like those Japanese porcelain cups where they fill the cracks up with gold.”
She can feel Soarin nod slowly, but he doesn’t say anything for a while. It feels good; for the first time since he asked if he could meet her parents, she’s feeling a blanket of tranquility. The delicate moonlight, the cool evening breeze, the warmth of Soarin’s fur.
Maybe this can be all right.
“C’mon,” Soarin says eventually as he draws back and moves towards the door. “We should get in before they come.”
Rarity follows in suite. “Indeed.”
“By the way – we’re still going after those guys after all this, right?”
“Oh definitely.”
“Perfect. I got a whole list of small inconveniences we could do to them.”
“Hmm. Have you ever considered waterboarding?”
It doesn’t start off poorly, actually.
There is no ominous opera choir paired with her parent’s entrance; only Sweetie Belle’s squeals. And while Sweetie Belle does amplify her parents’ undesirable behavior, Soarin’s already met her – even been inaugurated into some of her schemes – and that makes her the devil Rarity knows, and has sisterly authority over.
In fact, the entire theatre of Rarity’s life doesn’t fall apart when they settle in and introduce themselves. No immediate arguments erupt, baby photos of Rarity covered in puke don’t appear, and her father doesn’t ask her for wine in a diet pop can.
It’s – almost nearly pleasant.
They quickly find a conversation they all agree on: classic rock. Something Rarity’s parents loved, and played all through her childhood, and Soarin grew up just on the tail end of. Rarity joins in the conversation naturally.
“What can I say, I’m old school,” Rarity comments, and there’s a decent laughter that follows.
Then, her father has the audacity to tell a joke and ruin everything they’ve built: “Haha, well, Soarin here looks like an old school, y’get me?”
It’s a declaration of war, is what it is. Rarity has no choice but to set the entire room on fire spontaneously, until Soarin is the first to laugh and everyone follows.
“What can I say,” he says, “I was never too cool for school.”
Rarity’s mother turns to her. “Oh, he’s so funny. I was worried you would go for the Blueblood type.” She turns back to the rest. “You know how our Rarity loves hoity-toity.”
“You mean bootlicking city snobs?” her father suggests with a hearty chuckle.
Rarity doesn’t try to combat the point – admittedly she has had a bad habit of seeing a forest for its trees.
“But I really thought she’d go for, y’know, a unicorn.” Another care-free laugh. “I mean, I’m not sayin’ nothin’, but, y’know. You know what I mean, don’t’ch’a Soarin?”
Soarin doesn’t miss a beat, and he doesn’t say anything either. He just laughs with ease, to which her father also replies in kind.
Rarity knew what he meant: he wants to ask a question but knows it’s a line to cross, so he makes a joke instead. Classic parent move.
But that doesn’t mean she’ll let Soarin be the butt of whatever joke he’s leading into next, so she says, “Oh, father. Can’t a girl shake things up a bit?”
“Yeah, Rarity loves trying new things!” Sweetie chimes in, apparently no longer zoned out of the Adults Are Talking conversation.
It’s appreciated, but not helpful, so Rarity pats Sweetie Belle on the head to communicate as such. “Haha, yes. Girls just want to have fun.”
“Oh, I know all about it!” And he nods amusedly like he didn’t try to imply something without implying it. “Reminds me of the time Rarity-poo would set up these sock puppet plays around the house.”
“Ooh, yes,” her mother chimes in. “But she would make the socks brand new instead of using old socks because they were ‘dirty’.”
From one frying pan to another, but she’s let it simmer and joins their merriment with a dry laugh.
“What about me?” Sweetie starts. She hops up beside Soarin. “Mr. Soarin, I bet you have to hear about Rarity all the time.”
“Well I don’t mind that, really—”
“But! Did anyone ever tell you about the time we had the Sisterhooves Social, and I was there, and she covered herself in mud because –” Sweetie stops mid story to breathe, but also to realise “ – oh shoot, that’s also about Rarity! Why does this keep happening?”
“Well that’s all right,” Soarin says, and he pats Sweetie Belle with his wing. She smiles cutely and snuggles up, and Rarity remembers when she’s used to say she wanted a Pegasus big brother. “How ‘bout we talk about the time the Wonderbolts almost missed Pochella?”
“Oh, do tell!” her mother prompts, waving him to go on. “You must have the wildest stories.”
“Big shot Wonderbolt, eh?” her father adds, thoughtful. “Guess our baby girl really did get a celebrity.”
“Oh! Is that why you’re dating?” Sweetie turns to Rarity.
“No, t’was the eyes,” Rarity replies smoothly. “Didn’t see anything past them.”
“Or under them!” her father guffaws. “Son, I done never seen bags that heavy since I took my lady shopping on our honeymoon!”
Her mother chuckles as well; she’s always been the don’t speak unless spoken about type. “Oh, I can’t believe Rarity hasn’t put you through her skin routine.”
“More like skin boot camp regime.”
“To remove the puffiness under one’s eye,” Sweetie quotes in a pitchy tone, which is unnecessary given Rarity’s a tenor vocal-wise.
“The cucumber industry has been saved by Rarity alone!”
When the laughter takes it time to peters out – which takes long enough for Rarity to consider abandoning all familial ties – Soarin follows up to the unspoken question with a passive, “Eh, just sleep issues. Something I grew up with.”
Rarity’s about to suggest they move on to dinner so they can simply end this torture when she hears a knock at the door.
She certainly doesn’t want to leave Soarin defenseless with her parents – what if they do have baby pictures? It’s likely in that ratty straw hat her father never knows to finally eat or burn – but before she can so much as speak they hear a muffled voice say, “Never mind, I’ll use the window!” followed by smashing glass.
Rarity shares a look with her family, who look back. Her father, head of the house, breadwinner, eldest pony there, wisely shouts: “Sounds like the summer of 69!”
By the looks on their faces no one seems to know why they need to laugh, but they do so anyways. Rarity nods and takes the chance to excuse herself to catch the potential serial killer that may mercifully remove her from this situation permanently.
Before she can, a large body flies over her head and lands on the table in the centre of the room, breaking it.
Standing there, with everyone staring, is Rainbow Dash sporting polka-dot pants, a striped puffy dress shirt, and a hairband with kitten ears.
As if it’s not the most absurd thing, Rarity’s father exclaims, “Make that summer of ’71!”
“Oh ho ho, darling,” Rainbow Dash says in a nasally voice and unrecognisable drawl. “You are ever so amusing, ho ho. I’m your cousin Fast Dash, by the way.”
By some miracle, Rarity manages to drag an uncooperative Rainbow Clown Dash into the kitchen under the guise of ‘getting tea ready’ before anyone can ask too many questions.
Except herself, of course, because she has only question: why does the world conspire against her?
“Rainbow Dash,” Rarity hisses sharply. “What are you doing here?”
Rainbow chuckles, then takes Rarity by the withers. “Dude, I’m saving you! Now don’t blow my cover.”
Rarity wants to blow Rainbow Dash up for spitting more than whispering. Instead, feeling her voice bubble like poison in the back of her throat, she whispers, “I don’t need your help, and I certainly don’t need this.” She gestures vaguely at her.
“Pfft!” Rainbow chokes out, and Rarity swears she’s going to dump her into a lake tomorrow. “C’mon, it took me forever to get clothes and a backstory. Listen to this: I’ve been missing from your life all this time because I’m a recovering gambling addict. I even perfected the accent!”
If only she could have this much enthusiasm dressing up when Rarity asks her to. “You sound like you have a mouth full of hay fries. And your breath smells like it too, frankly.”
Rainbow makes a face. “What do you know about accents? Yours is fake.”
“P-k-b-how is mine fake but yours isn’t?”
“I didn’t get mine from reading the Canterlot Critique before bed every night!”
“You cannot learn an accent from reading.”
“What do you know, yours is fake!”
“You just—”
“Your parents sound more like Applejack than you!”
“Irrelevant! Irrelevant!”
“You know what? Shh. Shh!” Rainbow let go of Rarity’s shoulders and put her feathers on Rarity’s mouth, which taste nothing like Soarin’s. “I got this. I’m here for you. And dinner. But mostly you!”
“Oh really?” Rarity challenges. “You smashed my window, and that’s helping me?”
“You wouldn’t open the door.”
“You didn’t give me the chance!”
“It’s just a window. We can get them wholesale at Quill and Couches.”
Rarity wants to mention she doesn’t plan to need to purchase windows in bulk, but knowing Rainbow Dash it might be a good investment. “And my table?”
“I needed to make an entrance, duh.”
“WHY.”
“Well.” Rainbow clicks her tongue. “To be honest, that was just a personal preference.” She shakes her head. “But that’s not important. Look, when I’m in the room, I’m the centre of attention. Soarin won’t even notice your parents. Or the other way around if that was the issue, you never really explained it.”
“And I won’t.”
“Sure, whatevs! Let’s just get back out there, and I’ll take care of everything!”
The only thing that needs to be taken care of is Rarity’s choice in friends. “Rainbow—”
“Fast Dash!” Rainbow corrects. “C’mon. C’mon, Rares, I got this. Aren’t I your most dependable friend?”
“This is the first time you’ve met my parents and you’ve already lied and destroyed my house.” Is this going to be her crazy ex story?
“Yeah, well. I’m Loyalty, not Honesty. You should know, you were there. And you can depend on me! Wasn’t I dependable when we were making Applejack admit to things she never did?”
“She did finally say she harboured some jealousy towards my ability to be forever stunning and perfect.” Rarity shakes her head. “No wait, I already knew that, and I didn’t need your help.”
“But you’re getting it anyway!” Rainbow grinned toothily, aggressively patted Rarity on the head, and jetted into the other room, screaming, “Now which of darlings wants to hear about Las Pegasus!”
Rarity is surprised she hasn’t heard anything smash to pieces yet, and she thinks maybe the best course of action is to drown herself in the kitchen sink.
But the show, however tragic, must go on.
“So,” Sweetie Belle starts, and she’s with the countenance of Aristotle: thinking harder about things no sane pony would waste time thinking so deeply of. “You’re not related by blood to my grandparents, but your aunt married my step cousin, so that makes you my cousin-in-law?”
“No no no,” Rainbow says, sipping her tea as if it wasn’t the consistency of sand from so much sugar. “Darling. My aunt married your cousin-in-law, and that makes me your step-cousin, twice-removed.”
Sweetie Belle nods, slowly but surely processing this maniacal horse manure. “Okay, I think I get it. And we had to remove you to keep our cousin by-law?”
“Sweetie, darling, you’ll get wrinkles before your cutie mark at this rate,” Rarity sighs defeatedly. “More tea, mother?”
“Nah, ya got it! Darling.” Rainbow pats Sweetie Belle. “You’ve grown up so much since the last time I saw you! Which, uh, was never, darling, so. Yeah!”
Maybe a new threat will appear and the six will have to face it down in a battle of epic proportions. Maybe it will finally win and Rarity will be okay with that.
Sweetie keeps going in her own direction. “So…when Rarity marries Soarin—”
“Sweetie!” Rarity is not going to be one of those girls that jumps from meeting the parents to getting married. She didn’t even want the meeting-parents part.
“Let her finish, she might be on to something,” Rainbow says without a care in the world.
Rarity levels Rainbow with a stare as she blindly pours tea into some cup and point blank refuses to look at Soarin.
Sweetie Belle nods. “So, if Soarin’ marries Rarity, he’s going to be my…wait, he’s too old to be my brother…”
“Sweetie I am literally ten years older than you.”
Sweetie seems to disregard what Rarity says because she’s on the precipice of a discovery. “Oh, I get it! So that means when Soarin marries Rarity he’s going to become our father-in-law!”
“Sweetie, pick a princess and pray,” Rarity hisses with a deceiving calmness.
Soarin steps into Rarity’s reddening vision and ruffles Sweetie’s hair with his wing as he lightly puts himself between them. “Haha, you know which princess I choose?”
“Celestia, of course!” Sweetie answers gleefully. She must really feel safe under those head pats.
Soarin pauses. “W-I mean, no, I was going to say Ra—”
“Oh, Luna, dearie?” their mother chimes. She waves her hooves. “The girls have always loved the Mare in the Moon!”
“I kinda wanted to—”
“Uh, he means Twilight, duh! Darling.” Rainbow scoffs. “I mean you’ve met her, way better than Rarity. Less drama.”
Rarity shakes her head. “Darling I will remove you twice”
“Will that happen if you marry her or if you marry Twilight?” Sweetie asks.
“Celestia help me—”
“You’re going to marry Celestia?”
Suddenly, now of all times, Rarity’s father joins in. “Sweetie poo, you’re going to marry a princess?” He turns to Soarin and whispers loudly. “I’ve heard of these new kinds of open relationships. How do you manage that?”
“Uh.”
“No, she’s going to marry Twilight, duh. Dalring.”
“But she just said Celestia.”
“You’re going to marry both princesses?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “You always were the outgoing type.”
“You did say you were in love with the immortal angel type at lunch, too.”
“Oh my goodness…”
“Will Rarity become a princess if you marry a princess?” Sweetie ducks her head and pouts. “No, wait…is Soarin going to become a prince if you marry a princess?”
“Don’t’chya think he’s already a princess? He’s been alive since, like, the first winter wrap up.”
“That’s quite enough,” Rarity bites out. She’s about bring on a winter.
“Yeah, hehe, let’s winter wrap this up, huh?” Soarin follows merrily. He smiles when Rarity doesn’t. “How about dinner?”
“About time!” Rainbow shouts through cupped hooves.
“You know what it’s really about time for,” Rarity begins, but Soarin brushes her with his wingtips, and she goes with his flow. “…dinner.”
“Isn’t that what Soarin said?” Sweetie asks loudly. She turns to her parents. “Didn’t he just say it’s dinner? Why did they say it twice?”
Her mother looks at her with the wisdom of maternal experience. “It’s because couples need to repeat themselves, honey.”
“Ooh,” Sweetie says. “That’s why Dad always says, ‘That’s what she said’.”
Their father chuckles in acknowledgement, but Rainbow guffaws.
Rarity decides to inform her that – “Those barbaric jokes are so old.”
Rainbow snorts. “Your boyfriend is so old.”
“I will waterboard you with boiling tea and toilet water.”
“Dinner!” Soarin announces again as he starts walking Rarity to the kitchen by her shoulder.
“That’s what she said!” Sweetie Belle announces from behind.
There’s a pause, and then Rainbow’s voice says, “Eh, I’ll give you that. Up top, SB!”
Rarity contemplates accidentally starting a grease fire, smoking out the mosquitoes, faking her death, and starting a new life far away from family and Rainbow Dash – scratch that, Rainbow Dash is honorary family solely attributed to the absolute grief she brings Rarity.
But then she couldn’t do any of that, not with Soarin dutifully moving pasta out of pots and into serving dishes.
“Your step-cousin is kinda interesting,” he starts easily, as if life could ever go back to normal after this. “Her stories about Las Pegasus were pretty funny. But I don’t remember there being a long mural of a sonic rainboom there.”
Rarity’s never been to Las Pegasus. Maybe she can just jump to the ‘start a new life’ bit. “I imagine parts of her story were, erm, embellished, so to speak.”
“Hah, thought so!” Soarin says cheerfully, as if he was confirmed to win a bet. “You know, Fast Dash reminds me of Rainbow Dash. Same hair, but the accent is way different.”
Rarity has to take a moment to process this, then looks at Soarin with a tired gaze. “You. You do realise Fast Dash is Rainbow Dash.”
Soarin looks at her questioningly.
“Oh my goodness, did you actually fall for that ‘disguise’?” She’s dating a fun guy, not a dumb guy. But when he does this kind of thing, she has to remind herself of it.
“Then who’s Fast Dash?”
“I don’t – there is no Fast Dash!”
“Wow. Could’a fooled me.”
“Well she kind of did, darling.”
“I guess.”
Rarity lets out a deep breath. All this stress is bad for her face, and it certainly doesn’t help her mood, or Soarin’s. “I’m so sorry, babe. I’m just stressed. This has been awful.”
“Are you sure? I feel like it hasn’t been all too bad.”
“This is horrible. This is the worst thing I have experienced, and I grew up around a mare who wore bell bottom jeans unironically.” She shivers at the memory. A lesser fashionista would have died. “I never want to do this again.”
“Oh,” Soarin says simply. She feels like he just doesn’t understand the bell bottom anecdote. He gives her a side hug all the same. “If it’s any consolation, I kind of enjoy it. Your family doesn’t seem like the kind that cares what other people think. Rainbow Dash included, I guess.”
Rarity leans into him. She feels her voice falling quieter. “You’re too tolerating, dearest. I probably would have ripped some heads off had they made fun of my –” she hesitates, for him “—my age, or such.”
Soarin hums thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think you would. They were making fun of you, too, but you barely blinked.”
Rarity pauses. “Well…of course. They’re my family, we push each other to the edge until somepony becomes a psychopath.”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve let your friends take a few swings at you,” Soarin says. “But I’m positive you’ve always picked a fight when they said something about me.”
“Not every time.” She can’t fight every time, or she’ll seem overly defensive, and that would just be suspicious. “Just when it’s unfair.” She looks up at him. “I know it’s not your fault you’re late to settle, and I think they should know that, too.”
“They don’t have to,” he says, almost dismissively. But Rarity’s heard his doubts, can see them in his bright, tired eyes. “Kinda my doing for fooling around for so long. Guess this is how it comes back to me, huh?”
Rarity meets his downcast gaze. “To each his own, Soarin. I have no issue with it – I know who you are beyond those years. So it’s not up to anyone else to amuse themselves over.”
There are many things Rarity isn’t certain of: if ankle boots will be in fashion next season, why her parents are the reason boys don’t like her, whether being a good pony at heart is enough to justify her worst qualities.
But fighting for Soarin – not for herself with Soarin; just Soarin himself, as he is for who he is – that’s the mountain Rarity will climb, and the hill she will die on.
“If my family – or friends, even – make you feel less, I will always want to fix that. But you know as well as I that simply telling them won’t work.”
Soarin only laughs softly, warm breath on Rarity’s cheek.
“You know, don’t you? They only listen when you take extreme, backfiring measures, or entire friendship escapades.” Rarity frowns. “And even then, sometimes it feels like they unlearn lessons.”
“Guess their cracks aren’t filled in with gold, huh?”
“No, they aren’t. That’s just you and I, matching cups.” She smiles to herself, rests her eyes, and leans into his lips.
It’s in no way an amorous metaphor, but there comes a point in the right relationship where a kiss is not a gesture of romance, but a gesture of love.
They don’t get more than a few tender seconds when a loud crash comes from the other room.
Rarity yelps and pulls back suddenly. They breathe a laugh, and Soarin steals one more peck.
Her eyes are still pressed shut when he whispers, “Think we’re gonna need some cup-fixing gold right about now.”
“I believe so,” Rarity says in kind.
“Man, that dinner was awesome!”
“Really,” Rarity remarks dryly. “Because I thought as much from your constant munching, but your slurping made me second-guess myself.”
Rarity’s father groans like an old man and pats his stomach like a third child. “Rari-pop, I’m pretty sure burping is a compliment to the chef to some culture outside of Equestria.”
“Father that’s a lie. And no one here has ever been outside of Equestria to say otherwise.”
“I have, darling!” Rainbow challenges.
Well then I’m glad somepony as cultured as you enjoyed the meal. I will be sure to send you the bill,” Rarity continues smoothly, then before Rainbow can argue, “for the cups. And the table. And the window. And whatever you use as an exit.”
“You wouldn’t need to pay so much money if you used good ol’ paper plates!” Rarity’s father says, amused.
“Father, I am not serving food to my guests on paper. I wouldn’t read off paper if I had the choice.”
“It’s actually kinda fun!” Sweetie Belle chimes in. She still has food on her plate, even though Rarity told her she took too much. This happens every time, and yet somehow Rarity is still surprised. “And when they get holes in them, you can just staple printer paper to it – oh my gosh, it’s like stitching, but with paper! Are you proud of me, Rarity?”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Soarin holds his hoof out. “You, you reuse the paper plates? Enough to put holes in them?”
“Oh no dearie,” Rarity’s mother assures. “The holes usually come from washing. Sweetie can get so aggressive with soap and a sponge.”
“It’s so hard to get turmeric stains out of white!”
“Oh is that so?” Rarity asks pointedly, hoping Sweetie Belle still remembers the incident that lead to banning turmeric in the Carousel. Rarity certainly remembers; sometimes she still feels yellow patches behind her eyelids and on her fur.
“Dessert!” Soarin chirps quickly. He can probably recognise the vengeance coming alive in Rarity’s eyes.
“Dessert,” Rarity repeats automatically, starting to collect the plates.
Rainbow makes a sour face. “Ew, PDA.”
“Wait, so when Silver Spoon does that thing where she won’t stop copying me, does that mean she and I have to be a couple?”
“I’m sure you two fight like one,” Rarity mutters. Then, she notices Soarin collecting dishes and puts her hoof out to stop him. “Darling, thank you, but I’ve got it. And Sweetie will help me as well.”
“But –”
“Sweetie Belle.”
Sweetie Belle bounces anxiously in her seat. “Do I have to wash the dishes?”
“No, darling. Just help me get them in the kitchen. I’ll load them in the dishwasher.”
“Dishwasher?” Sweetie turns to her mother. “Hey, that’s right. Why don’t we use our dishwasher anymore?”
“Why, you’re sitting right there,” her father says with a laugh. When Sweetie just pouts, he adds, “Poopaloo, that’s where we wash the whites while the colours are in the washer.”
“Oh yeah.”
Rarity doesn’t know how they keep putting nails in her coffin at this point; they just drive new ones into the rusty ones. “I do not wish to hear any more about that. Sweetie, kitchen, please. Take those cups – yes, those ones.”
Miraculously, no dishes are broken on their way back to the kitchen. As Rarity starts directing Sweetie Belle on which ones to pass first for loading, Sweetie says, “Rarity, don’t tell mom and dad but I think I mixed the dish soap up with deodorant when I cleaned the junk drawer.”
Rarity pauses. “Do you mean detergent?”
“I – I think so. Which one makes things smell good?”
“All of them?”
“Oh my GOSH!” In the process, she drops the cups that Rarity has to save on pure spite of whatever forces keeps testing her cup capacity. “Now I think I confused all of them.”
“It’s all right, dear. Well, it’s not, but for now, it’s all right.”
“Oh okay, thanks sis!”
They continue to load the dishwasher, catching up on things as if they never run out of stories to tell each other despite always complaining they never have anything in common.
At some point, Sweetie easily says, “I can’t wait to tell everyone I’m related to Rainbow Dash. Step-cousin…in-law?”
It’s Rarity’s turn to almost drop a cup. “WHAT? Sweetie, you knew it was Rainbow Dash this whole time?”
Sweetie frowns, only partly because she seems to be having trouble distinguishing spoons from sporks. “What do you mean? Of course I know who Rainbow Dash is, you and Scootaloo never stop talking about her.”
Scootaloo has an obsession; Rarity has valid reasons. But Sweetie might have an information retention problem. “You can’t tell deodorant from dish soap but you can see through a disguise all those adults were fooled by?”
“You mean her outfit? I thought that was her going out clothes or something.” Sweetie Belle shrugs. “Looks like something you would wear.”
“I would wear no such atrocity!” This entire evening is just a massive offence to her, isn’t it? “On that note: she isn’t related to us.”
“But she said she was.”
“Well, she was lying.”
Sweetie gasps. “She can’t! She’s the Element of Honesty!”
Rarity can see from a mile away how this is going to add injury to insult. “No, Sweetie. Rainbow Dash isn’t Honesty, she’s Loyalty. Just very bad at it.”
“But that’s not what we learned in school.”
“Wha—” Rarity has to fully stop loading the dishes – of which there are many for such few ponies and the casualties endured – to process this. “Why are you learning about this in school? It happened only a few years ago. What you should be learning is – actually, let’s just leave it. It’s not my job to take care of you and teach you.”
“But Cheerilee does it. Every day!”
“Yes, well…she’s your teacher.”
“You’re my sister?”
Oh, now Sweetie Belle is sharp as a knife. And holding one. That’s dangerous in a way Rarity isn’t willing go by. “She’s paid to do it.”
“But not enough!”
“Oh, so now you’re an expert in employee compensation as well?”
“No, but for real!” Sweetie pipes up, and she hops on her hooves. “Once when me and the gang were looking for the secret recipe, we found her pay stub, and it’s so little!”
Part of Rarity is tempted to ask what this secret formula is and why they were searching through someone’s documents for it. But it’s only a small part because the rest of her is entirely ready to simply give up and drop dead if that’s what it takes to end this evening.
Instead she gets to the crux of her plan. “All right, Sweetie. I’m sure their union will do something eventually. Now, Sweetie, dearest. I love you, a-“
“I know!”
“…That being said, I’m asking you to please go out there and tell Mother and Father that you want to go home now.”
“But I don’t,” Sweetie says sweetly.
Of course she doesn’t, Rarity is inspiring simply to be around. But she’s been giving all night and now she’s hardly a damn left to give. “Well – just say you want to.”
“But that’s lying.”
“You aren’t the Element of Honesty.” The Element of Honesty caved to waterboarding way too easily. It was almost as if the torture wasn’t even necessary.
Sweetie, still so innocent, looks unsure. “But…”
Drastic times, drastic measures. “Darling, I’ll give you anything you want. I mean it. Anything.”
“I want to stay.”
“Anything else.”
“Uhm.” Sweetie squints. “A…sleepover?”
“Think outside the box! And outside of my house.”
She taps her hoof on her head. “Umm…I kinda want to be a princess?”
Rarity sighs. “O-okay, we can arrange that.”
“REALLY?”
Well, Rarity certainly isn’t the Element of Honesty. “Of course. I’ll speak to Twilight about it as soon as I can. Now please tell Mother and Father that you wish to leave, right now.”
Then she pouts and looks at down at Sweetie but realises she doesn’t have to look that far down anymore; Sweetie’s got a height to her that Rarity hasn’t noticed lately. It makes Rarity both sad and happy in a way that’s a little too heartful for this moment. “I love you, and love your company. But please, I’ll love you more another night.”
Sweetie bounces around with an excitement that is sure to threaten Rarity’s cup population. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell everyone!” Rarity gives her a nudge towards the door, and she heads in that direction as she goes on. “First, I’ll make you a princess, then I’ll make sure all the teachers get enough money, then, umm… Oh, I’ll pay someone to tell me what to do next!”
“An advisor?”
“An advisor!”
Well, if Rarity’s proud of one thing in her life, it’s Sweetie Belle’s big heart. Maybe that will be enough to earn her a crown.
But if not, Rarity will simply go on ahead and suffer the property damage that will result from whatever shenanigans she has to do to make it up to Sweetie Belle for not being able to fulfill her end of the deal.
Rarity makes a mental note to remember this moment when Sweetie Belle finally has to go through with the agony of bringing somepony to meet the family. She sure as Celestia will be there to have her back then.
For now, though – she should probably start packing some dessert to go, and a little extra for Sweetie Belle.
“Well it was lovely being here!” Rarity’s mother coos while they are at the door and putting their coats on. “It is always good to see you, dearie.”
Of course it is, Rarity wants to remind her. But that would only encourage further visits, and what if they asked Soarin to be there too? Heaven knows Rarity would rather be trapped in a Changeling dungeon for the rest of eternity.
So she hugs her mother and kisses her on both cheeks and compromises. “I do miss you dearly somedays, darling. You and I should plan a mother-daughter getaway soon. Ooh, we can go to Manehatten, and book a day at the spa!”
“Ugh,” Sweetie coughs. “Are you guys done talking? You always do this when we’re about to leave! You had the whole night to talk!”
“She’s right,” their father added, halfway out the egress. “Great to see you again Rari-loo. And good meeting you, son.” He tips his ugly hat. Then he looks up. “And you too, step-niece.”
Rainbow salutes from where she hovers just above them. “Back at’ch’ya pops.”
“See you tomorrow, Sis!” Sweetie says happily. “I’ll be thinking of more things I can do as a princess. Like making you a princess, and that will make Soarin a princess, too!”
Soarin takes it in stride. “Thanks champ. It’ll be a dream come true.”
“Yeah! And then when you have kids, you won’t be old and cranky like Granny Smith! You can run around with them and everything.”
Rarity’s capacity to want to die is drained out. Now, she just wants to fall into easy non-existence. “He is literally only a few years older than I.”
Sweetie continues regardless. “Seriously, Granny Smith always makes noises when she moves, and I don’t know if it’s her bones or her mouth.”
“Double ugh!” Rainbow groans, already three-quarters out the door. “Enough with the chitchat, I’ve got loads more stories to tell you guys!”
Without offending a third eager beaver, everyone collectively says their goodbyes once again, as adults do, and finally – finally – Rarity can shut the door and lean against it with peace of mind.
Soarin playfully trips up beside her. He tips his head vaguely. “Should we be worried about that?”
“Hmm? Oh, Rainbow Dash?” Rarity shrugs. “Oh, it couldn’t possibly be worse than what we’ve already gone through. Besides, I suppose she’s officially family now, in some ways.”
Soarin mutters something under his breath – ‘beat me to it’ is what Rarity thinks she hears – but quickly gives a shrug of his own. “Can I be honest, babe? I feel like that didn’t seem so bad to me at all. I wouldn’t be against hanging with your family again.”
“I would rather eat my father’s hideous, ancient hat.”
Soarin shakes his head. “Well, I guess that’s the verdict. I don’t know if I’ll every understand it, but a deal’s a deal: we’ll never do that again.”
“Thank heavens,” Rarity says as she pushes herself up from the door, sluggishly brushing his hoof with hers as she stands.
After that, they find themselves walking to the living room and picking up the leftover dishes – Soarin trying to insist that he isn’t going to fall asleep for a while anyways, but Rarity saying she’ll be plagued by nightmares of broken glass strewn everywhere if she doesn’t see everything put away herself.
Rarity’s mostly too exhausted to say anything, so they clean in an amiable, easy quiet. As they finish up, Soarin speaks up, almost hesitant, as he closes the distance between them.
“Hey, I – just wanted to say thanks.” He smiles at her tenderly. “For today.”
“I’d say anytime darling, but you know that’s a lie.”
He chuckles. “I meant everything, actually. And everything I’m not there to thank you for.” He gazes at her with eyes that have seen many things but never beheld something they’ve loved as much. “I really think you’re something wonderful.”
Through her sleeping mind, she knows one thing: however unpleasant, she would brave days like today if he would accompany her down those thorny paths. She hopes she can look at him with even half of what she feels for him. “It’s not I alone. We’re a matching cup set, are we not?”
Author's Note
My entry into the Right Back At It Again contest.
Writing this pair felt like early 2012 when trying to pair a main pony with anyone outside of the other 6. Soarin was always my go-to back then because he had enough small things going for him that you could flesh out.
And I think early-fandom me came out to add the crack elements to this.
