“No.” The words were firm, spoken in a no nonsense voice.
“But, Applejack, dearest...”
“Rares, Ah said no. Ya know darned well that Ah don't like frills an’ lace.” Fingers held up what to the farmer’s eyes were tiny wisps of silken and entirely too transparent bits of fabric held together with careful stitches and probably a few prayers that would make a pastor faint. “An’ this is made of nothin’ but.”
Rarity pouted at her, blue eyes going wide and tearful. “I worked so hard, darling,” she confessed, a faint tremble in her voice and a carefully cultivated hint of distress underlying her words. “Won’t you give it a chance, for me?”
The theatrics might’ve worked on someone else, someone who didn't know the tailor the way Applejack did, but for her, the act was transparent. After all, she’d watched her lover use it many times over the years they’d known each other, turned on the many adults in their lives to wheedle things out of them or to get Rarity out of trouble. “Come off it, Rarity,” she drawled. “T’ain’t gonna work on me and ya know that.” She balled up the garment—if one could even call it that with how little fabric it contained—in her fist. “Just like ya know that Ah don't wear somethin’ like this.” Exasperation colored her tone.
Rarity sighed heavily. "Applejack, my love," she started, her voice taking on a sultry quality that would’ve had the blonde’s full interest under different circumstances. Like this, though? The shift from winsome little girl to seductress just made the taller teen even more irritated at her companion. "You know how I love making myself up for you." Alabaster digits ran over her elegant form, taking care to emphasize her more feminine features. "I simply wanted to see you wearing the same," she murmured, her voice growing softer at the end and the whole speech capped off with a playful wink.
Applejack scowled, able to see the ploy for what it was and feeling fairly offended that her girlfriend would attempt to use seduction to win an argument with her, even if it was an argument in the bedroom. With an angry snort she threw the lingerie onto the bed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Ah'm not gonna look good all 'dolled up' Rarity! Lookin’ like a million bucks is yer department, not mine.” One foot stamped for emphasis, though the effect was lost amidst the plush carpet of Rarity’s bedroom.
It did net her a rather disdainful stare from Opalescence the cat on the other hand. Mentally, Applejack directed a few cross words and a rude gesture at the ugly, cross eyed, inbred feline that hated her anyways. Its tastes were questionable, all things considered. How Rarity could tolerate that animal was a true question for the ages...and right alongside it was why Rarity was on this kick of trying to play dress up with her in slinky nothings when she knew how Applejack would react to it.
The pout dissolved into a scowl on pale features and Rarity made what to Applejack, sounded like an over exaggerated “Hmph!” noise, before stomping into the farmer’s personal space. “You don't have to be so mean, Applejack! I just thought it might be nice to enjoy you wearing something for me—you never seem to complain about anything I wear when I’m the one all 'dolled up' for your enjoyment!” Blue eyes met green, and she prodded the farmer’s chest with a perfectly manicured finger. “Did you ever stop to think that I might want to see you accenting your beauty for me!? To be willing to put forth the effort for me!?” Rarity asked, her voice growling louder with her frustration.
A powerful hand captured the finger, a vague pinprick of hurt at the implication that she was being lazy by not putting on glorified silk wrapping paper and putting herself on display on Rarity’s bed, like the model in some sort of racy photoshoot. It was a careful grab and she checked her grip, mindful of her strength so as not to harm her lover. She used enough of her strength to hold the hand still, because while she didn't mind the scratches those manicured nails left on her at times, she preferred to acquire them under much more pleasurable circumstances and not in the midst of a fight. “Well maybe Ah wouldn’t mind it so much if it weren't things that look ridiculous on me!” Applejack made a motion at herself. “Ah dunno if ya noticed Rares, but this doesn't really go with stuff like that!”
Rarity followed the hand motion. “Darling,” she responded dryly, “you just gestured to all of you.”
“Because Ah meant all of me! It only ends in disaster! Ah know—Ah tried that once, that summer Ah spent with mah aunt an’ uncle, an’ ya were here when Ah came runnin’ home after three weeks!” Her cheeks were hot and red now, half from embarrassment and half from anger. “Wearin’ get up like that looks downright amazing on you, Rares, but it looks stupid on me!”
Anger darkened those blue eyes she loved so much, and Rarity twisted her hand free to poke her in the chest again. “Now you listen to me, Applejack,” she said firmly, her carefully cultivated accent slipping briefly, giving away just how humble and similar her origins were to her lover’s own. “I will not sit here and listen to you belittle yourself like that! You are a beautiful and stunning girl with plenty of features that are beyond eye catching, and despite your attempts to downplay your physical appearance by dressing like a ruffian and a cowboy and whatever else you call to mind dressed in Mac’s ill fitting hand-me-downs, you cannot hide who you are to me!”
Rage sparked in turn at that last remark. Rarity knew full well that half the reason she wore Mac’s cast-offs was to save Granny a few bucks on gear that was just going to get filthy and ruined in the orchard and pastures anyway. They were not scraping the bottom of the apple barrel by any means, not with how Rarity insisted on filling the cupboards every time her folks left town and she and Sweetie practically lived at the farm for weeks at a stretch....but every bit saved was one that could be spent elsewhere, whether it was repairs when an aging piece of equipment could no longer function on duct tape and chewing gum repairs, or when one of the cows got sick and they had to call the vet, or even just to buy Applebloom something she wanted. It was her way of making herself less of a burden on her aging grandmother who had been saddled with three grandchildren to raise as well as opening the farm to two girls whose parents the blonde farmer thought were about as useless as tits on a hog. This was not a secret to Rarity—none of AJ’s life was, just as Rarity’s own life was no secret to her.
It had the same effect as a match touched to the fuse on a stick of dynamite, and Applejack exploded, hurt and frustration venting in a bellow that reverberated through the otherwise empty house. “Yer the one damned person in mah whole life Ah’ve never hid anythin’ from! Not one blasted thing since the day we met!” She drew in close until they were almost touching, the motion as familiar as breathing to her. “Every single time Ah put on a good face and said nothin’ cuz Ah didn’t want ta make waves, Ah told you, Rares. When Momma and Daddy died, Ah didn't say a thing ta Mac or Granny or anybody else in the family—it was you that saw me cry, you that Ah told how Ah felt! When Ah didn’t know who Ah wanted ta be, Ah told you first—dontcha remember? It was you that urged me ta go spend that summer with Aunt and Uncle Orange, ta talk ta Granny about it. And you’re damned sure the only one who knows that the reason Ah don't doll myself up no more is cuz every time Ah look in the mirror all Ah kin see is mah Daddy lookin’ back!”
Unshed tears welled up but sheer stubbornness held them back. “You've seen me at mah worst, at mah best—only person in the whole world who knows all mah scars, inside and out is you, Rares, just like it always has been. So Ah don’t know why yer so damned hellbent on puttin’ me in that!”
Given the somewhat volatile nature of their relationship, how intense their passions ran when they got worked up in any capacity, the blonde was fully expecting things to escalate into a screaming match until she stormed out and headed for home, giving both of them time to cool off. So when Rarity’s anger melted away, leaving behind a sharp eyed intensity that Applejack could feel all the way to her soul, her own fury sputtered like a dying tractor engine suddenly out of fuel. Pale arms wound their way around her waist, tugging the taller girl firmly against her partner. “Applejack...” Rarity began, blue eyes commanding her full attention. “I love you, my Applejack, and to me, you are always beautiful, no matter how slovenly or heavenly you might be dressed.”
Confusion and emotional whiplash made AJ’s voice stick and she had to clear her throat. “Then why...?”
The sentence went unfinished, but it didn't need to be. Rarity smiled at her, sending a pleasant shiver through her, one hand coming up to grip the collar of her shirt and tug her head down firmly until their noses were brushing. “I made that for you, my love, with every aspect of you in mind. It was never meant for anyone but you.” Lips pressed briefly but firmly to the farmer’s own. “No matter what you wear, I only see you.”
The grip Rarity had on her prevented AJ from chasing the kiss when the designer pulled back to talk. Things had shifted so fast her head was still spinning, but she managed to grasp onto the important point she felt she needed to make. “Ah...don’t know if can, Rares. Bloom’s the one who looks like Momma...Whats ta say Ah won’t put it on and look as ridiculous as a pig wearin’ pearls?”
The hand at her waist let go to swat in mock offense at her hip. “Applejack,” Rarity responded, sounding appropriately scandalized, “I’m offended that you truly think so little of my tastes in both fashion and partners.” She leaned away briefly to retrieve the article of clothing her lover had tossed on the bed, holding it up in offering, and her voice was softer than it had been all day. “You’ve trusted me with everything else, Applejack....you can trust me with this too.”
Applejack exhaled heavily, and she took the garment from the pale skinned tailor. “Fine,” she huffed, more to keep her pride than anything. “Ah’ll wear it...but Ah’m keepin’ mah hat on.”
A seductive, victorious smirk spread across Rarity’s features as she released Applejack and stepped back. “That’s perfectly alright, Applejack. I designed it with all of you in mind—it wouldn’t be complete without the hat.”
Author's Note
Happy New Years, folks! Figured I'd start the year off right for all of us with something fun. Like Mirrors on the Ceiling, this was done for Krickis' writing-club prompt in her discord, but I expanded it a bit and after some editing, here it is!
As noted, this is set in the same universe as Cross the Rubicon, and takes place in some indeterminate time before the first Equestria Girls film but after the girls are in high school.
For folks who haven't read Rubicon, feel free to come poke at it.
For those of you here from Rubicon, especially the ones who are Rarijack fans, I hope you enjoyed!
I'll probably be posting periodic stand alones and one-shots like this in the future...
