All Silent In Manor Archambeau

A month had gone by since that very night, missing pony posters had been placed in town, hoping for even the littlest of glimpses of Rarity. She had hid herself away, not wanting to face anypony, she had cut away her purple mane and hid her eyes to not be found, shame had encompassed her entire being, she wanted to go back to how things were before but she couldn’t. No matter the pain she had or is causing to those who care about her, she just wanted to keep chasing that high, trying to escape the past, even though it always came back, haunting her.

Mare and stallion had interchanged most nights in various forms, taking different positions in the bed they had shared as the ghostly unicorn sat, staring at the corner and crying. He wouldn’t go away, it was like his presence had grown exponentially, always watching, his black button eyes stabbing into her own. The same dream kept tormenting her through the nights, the mines, the mannequins, the bedroom, HIM. There was no real escape, but that didn’t stop her from looking with every pill she got hooves on. Everyday and every night, it had turned to routine at this point, get strung up with a stallion or mare who provided, wake up in bed with them, and sob her eyes out, she wanted to stop, she needed to stop, but she couldn’t.

She got up from the bed of her latest hook up and quickly went to the bathroom, not being able to hold back the vomit that had been brewing in her now malnourished stomach. She threw her head back, it violently came down, aiming in the sink, barfing mostly liquid with only a few chunky bits swimming in it, she had barely been eating, her energy only cultivating when an orange pill popped into her mouth. She looked at herself in the mirrored cabinet, her face had slightly sunk in, little stubbles of her once luxurious mane were patched sparsely, and bits of her now boney body shown through.

The once enigmatic mare was now reduced to something so pitiful that even she didn’t even want to look, but he was always at her side, never doing anything malicious, just standing beside her, staring, as if his gaze forced her into situations that she would’ve never wanted to be found in. Whenever she looks in a mirror, she sees him, standing there, beckoning her. If she had died instead of her, would the outcome have been different?

This question had pondered her mind whenever she was sober enough to really think. Sickness had taken both of them, leaving her with a monster that she couldn’t stop envisioning. She wanted to die, but the thought of Sweetie Belle kept her from taking drastic measures, though she was already dying on the inside. She looked back down at the puke filled sink, her eyes were dull, sensing that something was amiss, these days something always was.

The chunks began to glisten in the cheaply lit room, shining in a variety of colors, they had turned into gems, rubies, diamonds, sapphires, sparkling, reflecting, her filly was shown, a rainbow gust blasting past her. The outside air was disrupted by it, the clanking of metal on stone was heard in the distance but had stopped when the filly was hoisted in the air, dropping back down with a magic white flash. Rarity lazily got back onto her hooves and looked behind her, there it was, her cutie mark, her destiny, his legacy. She looked over to her left, Mr. Fuzzybottom stared back, the lifeless button eyes glued to her flank, another balloon at hand.

She took it like always, but this time she stared at her reflection, a hurried hastened expression painted it, not matching the more somber look she held. She was flung over her own shoulders and she raced off from a big structure that had been set ablaze. Mr. Fuzzybottom just sat and watched it burn, she looked over to one of the windows, seeing a small brown teddy bear, sitting and watching as the building began to cave in and crumble. The mannequins gave chase, screams of terror elevated with every stomp of her hooves as they hit the cobblestone road that led away. Giant crystalized spiders led the charge, but she realized they weren’t heading for her, just in her direction.

Up ahead were the gates, the exit, the so-called freedom they had all longed for. That damned symbol that had hung overhead on the golden archway, a white dove, wings spread out in flight, the flowers that surrounded it, and the blue backdrop, all shining from the fire in the background. A maneless pale unicorn stared down at her, sadness consuming her, she woke up, a new room, new pony, new dream, same routine.

She hugged her hind hooves, this time no tears came, she was growing used to it, she didn’t want to, but felt as if there wasn’t any choice in the matter. Thoughts of the boutique, her hard work, came to mind, all that she had built will more than likely start breaking if it hadn’t already. She then thought about Sweetie Belle, the lies she had spun, trying so hard to keep her from the truth, maybe she should’ve told her when she was younger, but she was already bullied at school for not having a cutie mark at the time, why put another stigma on her? Another label to be thrown at her. She didn’t care about staring at the corner of the room anymore, she knew he was there, watching.

Another week, another bing, more hiding. She remembered when dresses and adventure had taken up most of her mind, now she had reverted back to a mess that HE made. She wanted to blame him, HER, and herself for how she’s turning out, but how could she? One had died years ago, the other was either dead or dying, and she is still here, doing this to herself. He was a monster but even monsters could die, she just couldn’t let go, and for that, she couldn’t blame herself, no blame could be placed on anyone, so she unknowingly blamed everyone. Her friends for living life, her clients, anyone she could, for her inability forget was held back for a good chunk of her adulthood, but was at the breaking point the day Sweetie Belle started questioning.

Another day, another bing, another pony, same outcome. She wandered the streets of nighttime Ponyville, not knowing if it was in her head or not, he followed close behind her, it had rained earlier, she could see him from the puddles she stumbled passed. She didn’t know what she was doing, just walking, no real direction, not anymore. She kept walking, even when she made it outside of town, she just kept moving, her tired hooves balancing her body, she was lighter than usual, yet she felt heavy, as if she was weighed down by an intangible force. Shame and guilt was her compass to nothingness.

She stopped and stared into a puddle, seeing her filly self crafting the first dress she ever made, it was for her mom. It was designed with the family crest in mind, red, white, and blue with a gold trim that layered the edging. She could see her passing it off to her mother, or what she thought was her mother, it was her, the Rarity from before all of this. Her mane was as beautiful as ever and her figure was more defined, but HE was next to her, Mr. Fuzzybottom had his claws wrapped around her in a more warm embrace, matching wedding rings on both his paw and her horn, he wasn’t covered in soot or ash, but was clean and kept, he actually resembled a teddy bear.

As the filly passed the dress over to her mother, their horns lit, intertwining, the mother rapidly started to drain the life in her, coughing violently as she began to wither away. Next to her, Mr. Fuzzybottom grew darker and matted, his paws turning black, and an ear partly rotting off. A fire lit underneath them, steadily ingesting them, Mr. Fuzzybottom extended a now blackened paw, a new balloon appearing out of nowhere, popping from the flames as he began to melt.

She can see a hoof reaching out of the flame, unburnt, a familiar voice called out, everything stopped, everything went pitch black with muffled voices resounding, then silenced. A great light had cut through her lids, she reluctantly opened them slowly. Rarity’s eyes take a minute to adjust, laying on her back, a pillow where her head rested, a white blanket covering all but her forehooves, a long tube from her left forehoof connected to an IV, the table next to it, plastored oak with a white, held a blue vase, an assorted bouquet was homed in it.

She was in the Ponyville Hospital, she looked to the right where the window had been, seeing the light from the sun, the blue in her eyes had returned by degree.

“She worried y’all know,” a familiar southern accent came from the far right of her, speaking somberly.

She tilted her head forward to then gaze upon the light orange mare that had sat on a gray chair, her cowboy hat covering her eyes. Rarity beamed, placing her head back down on the pillow.

“Why’d y’all have to make her worry like that, make us worry like that?” She said, a twinge of her true emotions breaking through.

“Missing for a whole month, A MONTH! And y’all just randomly turn up basically on our front porch, leaving us a mess while y’all do Celestia knows what!” She began sniffling and panting, her anger, sadness, and joy culminating into one outburst.

“I-I’m sorry,” Rarity shakenly uttered, tears leaking down each side of her face.

“My life hasn’t always been glamorous dear, a good bit being horrendous, I feel back into behavior that was forced upon me by my father, but there is no excuse for what I have put you through, what I have put everypony through, I-I’m.. truly s-sorry Applejack…” She started breaking down, finally letting all her pain out, the pent up emotions that had only slipped in spars.

Applejack looked up, ear flat and her teary green eyes widened, she had never known her before Rarity had came to Ponyville way back when. She walked over, consoling the white unicorn as she wailed, sniffling beside her as she held her tightly.

“I-I want my daughter… can you please bring her to me… please?” Rarity asked, sniffling as her wailing came to an end.

“D-daughter?” Applejack lifted her head, still sniffling.