Prologue - 00 - At The Edge of The End
Author's Note
Hello!
"The Enchanted Carousel", in other words, the original sequel to The Enchanted Kingdom, was cancelled because the vibes were not there, and restarted as the story you are now reading.
If you've never read TEC, then please carry on. If you've read TEC, then please try to forget everything you remember, if you remember any of it, it never happened, we don't know her anymore.
Updates will be bi-monthly on Wednesdays and should run steady for a bit here on Fimfic as I have a buffer written. If you want to read chapters even sooner than that, they'll usually go up first on my personal website.
Also, hey, today's the 10th anniversary of the original Enchanted Library oneshot. I am officially the George R.R. Martin of RariTwi. Wow.
Anyway, enjoy!
Prologue - 00 - At The Edge of The End
North Ridge typically wasn’t one to hesitate, but in this case, he couldn’t help it.
From under the shade of a tree, he observed the nearby sleepy town of Willow’s Bend, for once bustling with life and activity. How could it not, after all, when it was their turn to know the truth that had lurked in Equestria’s shadows for millennia?
And yet, he hesitated, even if all reason contended he would have found out the truth one way or another. It was simply inevitable that even if he’d never crossed paths with her, his innate curiosity would have led him to one of these princessly public meetings, and he’d have learned all, gasping alongside a plethora of ponies.
But he’d found out the story in a very different way.
Once upon a time, a thousand years ago, four princesses ruled the land in peace, but their reign came to an abrupt end when, after tricking a spirit into submission, said spirit avenged himself by trapping them in different secret locations throughout the land.
Years ago — about… three? Four? — a unicorn named Rarity happened upon the location of the youngest princess, Twilight Sparkle.
If North Ridge hadn’t met her, that would be the only part of the story he’d know that matched what she’d relayed to him during their travels. The rest differed.
Had he found out through the Princesses, he’d have been told something along the following lines: With the assistance of Rarity, Princess Twilight Sparkle freed herself from her prison, then freed another princess of legend, then set on a quest to free the other two while beseeching the help of Equestria’s ponies in finding and stopping the terrible Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony.
But…
Well, that wasn’t what he’d been told.
What he’d been told was as follows:
When Rarity the unicorn found Princess Twilight Sparkle, her life stopped being her own. Initially driven by dreams of grandeur, Rarity the unicorn devoted herself to freeing the princess, in the process falling in love with her.
After a terrible event, Princess Twilight Sparkle realized she too had fallen in love, and overwhelmed by grief and the fear of enduring another loss, she secluded herself from the world and Rarity for two years.
Eventually, under provocation from the Spirit, who’d threatened to harm Rarity, Princess Twilight Sparkle finally overcame her fears and guilt and freed herself from her prison.
Reunited, the lovers set about finding and rescuing another of the princesses. It was an ordeal of great difficulty, which was poisoned and hindered by the unspoken pain Princess Twilight had inflicted on Rarity by pushing her away.
But they persevered, their love for each other stronger than their fear or pain, and by the time they freed the second princess, they were healed. They were as one, in spirit and body, no longer two separate souls housed in two bodies but a singular soul in the care of two.
And it was this, North Ridge had been told, that was their greatest tragedy.
To love the other more than living itself.
“But to love like that is beautiful,” he’d replied, ever the earnest romantic. After all, he’d felt the same for his wife when she was alive, and her last journey to the beyond took a part of him with her.
“If you think as much,” she’d replied, her azure eyes piercing his, “then I don’t understand why you disagree with my choice.”
“Because it is cowardly! Because it is wrong. This—” He gestured to her. “This is fear. This is running away, so afraid of it going wrong that you can’t even give it a chance to go right.”
He thought of that conversation often.
It was the reason for his hesitation, after all. That conversation spurred him to depart from her, determined to set things right and do what she could not, but… now, with his goal in sight, he faltered.
Who was he, North Ridge of the Undiscovered West, that he thought himself important enough to meddle in such affairs?
This was different from his grand adventures of yore. There wasn’t a pirate to rob, thieves to kill, or dungeons to explore. There was more than just one life at stake, and one life in particular, already resigned to living an eternally miserable existence, the thought of which kept him up at night.
Ah well.
Many a time, his beloved wife had called him an idiot and a fool and a buffoon, but she’d never called him a coward because a coward he was not.
“Mrrr?”
Blinking out of his reveries, he turned around to see a grandiose manticore beside him, all of its aforementioned grandiosity dampened by its wide-eyed expression and floppy ears.
“I’m sorry, Tangerine, what did you say?” North Ridge asked, and when the manticore frowned and mewled again, North gasped with indignation. “What! What are you even saying?! How could you! I am indeed procrastinating!”
Tangerine didn’t find his joke particularly funny, which was fine by North since he thought he was hysterical.
Tangerine whipped his tail against the ground. “Mrr.”
“Alright, alright, I’m going!” North relented. “Don’t get your fruits in a bunch!”
With a great steadying sigh, he stood up and set his sights on the town’s entrance. Besides him, Tangerine did the same, brushing off ground from his coat and preparing–
“Where do you think you’re going, sir?” North asked, startling the poor beast. “Surely not inside the town full of meek ponies who would faint at the sight of so much as a bear, I hope.”
Chastised, Tangerine sat down, his tail whipping against the ground.
“I promise it won’t be long,” North said, patting his friend’s back. “I’ll bring you a drink halfway through the event.”
“Mrrrr…”
That said, North finally trotted to his destination, intermingling with various ponies going about their day.
“Do you think… Do you think it’s a prank?” he heard a pony ask another, a nervous edge to his voice. “It must be, right?”
His companion snorted. “A prank? Princess Denza is here. You think Princess Denza would be parading herself ‘round the country saying those things if it was a prank? And the others sure look real to me.”
Interesting! North thought to himself. So, Princess Denza was in this one, huh? She hadn’t been in the one he’d seen in Trottingham. Of course, the real question was whether that was actually the esteemed Princess Cadance herself, or one of her buggy doppelgangers.
Ah, well, he’d see for himself soon enough.
Intent on having a grand old time, the graying stallion made his way through the town, idly admiring his surroundings while pondering a plan perhaps a bit more elaborate and thought-out than, “find Princess Twilight Sparkle, introduce myself, and go from there.”
If not, he could always approach a guard, fish out one of his many Rarity wanted posters, show it to them, claim he’d seen the unicorn in the picture, and, surely, in a matter of moments, be escorted straight to the princess herself.
“Maybe that’s too much,” he muttered aloud. Not the best way he wanted to re-introduce himself to her. “Though she might not even remember me!” He thought on it a moment, and then laughed. “Nonsense, I’m too charming to be forgotten!”
However, he hadn’t realized he’d been waiting for a haughty remark until it did not come. There was no rolling of eyes, no unladylike snorting he could quickly point out, no “North, darling, dearest, only I can say such things.”
Ah! Ah. He smiled, though it was slightly pained. Such a short time he’d known her, and yet he could not deny he missed her company. Two companions bonded by their charm and a love for their missing partners deeper than the oceans themselves.
But his was gone. Buried deep under a tree in the Western lands, by now part of the flowers and green she so loved.
But his friend’s, however!
He shook his head, dispelling the scolding thoughts. She’d made up her mind, and though she felt like a child to him, she was not. She was not, she was not, she was–
“Oof!”
North tumbled to the ground with a painful thud!, whatever he’d smashed into similarly groaning on the ground beside him. He managed to regain some semblance of cognizance after a few moments, lifting himself up and babbling apologies.
“So sorry! I was completely lost in my nogg–” His sentence died in his throat, his helping hoof outstretched and petrified, his eyes now fixed on a batpony guard still rubbing his head on the ground.
North was very familiar with batpony guards, having been chased by a whole horde of them and the esteemed Princess Luna that one time he dreamt about Rarity a bit too much. He still remembered the intensity of the chase, and Rarity’s delightfully scandalized and indignant gasp when he jokingly said, “I don’t understand why they’re so mad! It’s not like I dreamt anything unbecoming of you! Of my dear wife, though…!”
Ah, fun times! He missed them.
Anyway.
As the poor batpony stood up, North decided to believe surely this batpony wouldn’t know who he was. Unless they had a hivemind? No, that was the changelings. Or were they? Hm!
“Here, here! Let me help you!” North insisted, helping the stallion up.
“Thank you,” replied the guard, only a little miffed. He straightened his helmet, then looked at North with eyes that quickly narrowed. “Hrm. Have I seen you before?”
“No,” North Ridge lied. He then cleared his throat. “In any case! I shall be going now. Goodbye!”
He froze when the guard put a hoof on him. Not because he was worried, or offended, or anything of the like. It was more so because North Ridge had spent most of his life fighting mercenaries and other such ilk in the West, and that meant that when somepony put a hoof on him unprompted, he had one singular unfortunate instinct.
Unfortunate for North Ridge and the guard, to specify, but not for the delighted colt nearby who’d never seen somepony sock a guard in their face so hard.
Staring down at his dazed victim, North Ridge said a single thing: “Well then.”
Always a stallion of quick thinking, he apologized to the guard, waved at the crowd, and then booked it out of there. Somewhere, he was sure his wife’s spirit was asking to be posthumously divorced from him.
Ah! How he loved her.
Of course, he could hardly think of that as he only made it three streets away before something–or, rather, somepony–lifted him in magic and slammed him against a wall.
Before he even had the chance to protest that he was only defending himself, really, his attacker made herself known with a single thundering question:
“Where. Is. She?”
Wincing, he opened his eyes, and his momentary fear quickly turned to delight at the sight of a radiant blue alicorn with a radiantly furious gaze.
“Ah, Princess Luna!” he exclaimed, bowing his aching head. “What an honor! I’ve heard much about you!”
The princess blinked, thrown off for a moment, before pressing him somehow further into the wall. “You must be very foolish to joke in your situation.”
“Joke? I joke all the time, which is why I can promise you I’m not joking now,” he said, and his mirth faded, replaced with the severity of a stallion who’d done things that would haunt him till his death. “As for your question, I don’t know where she is.”
Princess Luna stepped forward, her muzzle inches away from his, her eyes slits. “Do not misunderstand me. I am being merciful to you now. So you will tell me where she is, or you will soon long for the days when your nightmares were something you could wake from.”
North smiled, setting his trap. “That’s not very kind of you, is it?”
Her wings flared, and her horn crackled with threatening magic. “You have given me no reason to be kind,” she hissed.
“Oh? But, correct me if I’m wrong, wasn’t it you who said–What was it? That kindness should never be conditional?”
And when the princess' eyes widened for the flicker of a moment, he felt the satisfaction of a trap closing shut. Her magic grasp loosened, not much but enough to give him enough confirmation to proceed.
“She told me that, in case you’re wondering,” he continued. “Rarity. Clever mare, she said you’d have no reason to trust me, so she told me things to say only trusted ponies would know. For Princess Twilight, for example, she told me to say ‘for you, a thousand times over’, which —” He nodded, satisfied, as her eyes went wider still. ”— I can see was the right thing to say.”
When she repeated her question a third time, there was no longer any anger in her voice. There was no malice or fury, only what he had sadly anticipated: desperate concern.
“Where is she?” asked Princess Luna.
“I don’t know,” he repeated as sincerely as he could for he was sincere, painfully so. “I parted ways with her a while ago now.”
“Is she safe?” At his hesitation, he was thrust against the wall once again. “Is. She. Safe?”
“Yes, yes!” he exclaimed. “At least, she was when we parted ways! You have my word!”
“Then where is she?! What in the Gods’ names is she doing?!”
North Ridge stayed silent.
“Well?!”
He coughed politely. “...If you would be so kind as to put me down, I am more than happy to explain.”
Her eyes burned into him, and though her wings flared threateningly, she granted his request, and he thudded against the ground.
“Thank you!” he replied, swallowing a wince and standing up as best he could. Once up, he cleared his throat and braced himself for more bodily harm. “Unfortunately, it is not my place to say what she’s up to, but–” He saw her horn light up with magic and immediately raised his hoof defensively. “But I can assure you she has a plan!”
“A plan?” asked a voice that belonged to neither him nor Princess Luna.
North Ridge froze, his eyes set on Princess Luna as she sent him a second glare but stepped off, her wings begrudgingly settling at her sides. Gathering himself as best he could, he turned around and smiled warmly at the newly arrived alicorn.
If there was a single word North could think of to describe Princess Twilight Sparkle, it was… enduring. Tired, yes, and smart, stressed, concerned, and so many other things, but enduring most of all.
As enduring as the strong, cutting pink glow emanating from the necklace around her neck.
Was it silly to say seeing it glow filled him with relief? And hope? But it did. Hope died last, it was always said, but love? Love gave hope a damned good run for its money.
Princess Twilight took a step forward, cautious as he’d been told she was, but disarming. “What plan?” she asked again, and though she did not look it, something about her tone betrayed desperation.
Which only made him feel awful as he replied, “I am sorry, Princess Twilight, but I cannot say. I made a promise, and I am a stallion of honor.”
His aching back refamiliarized itself with the wall, Princess Luna onto him again.
“Honor?!” she demanded, holding him in her magic grip. “There is no time for honor in a–!”
“Princess Luna!” Princess Twilight snapped, stamping her hoof on the ground. “Put him down.”
Princess Luna directed her glare at Princess Twilight. “Twilight Sparkle! This stallion is–!”
“I don’t care. Put him down,” the younger princess commanded once again. Despite Princess Luna’s deepening glare, her resolve did not falter, and especially–and perhaps critically–when she said, her hoof reaching for her pendant, “I trust Rarity. And you should, too.”
Princess Luna stared at her peer, clearly reigning in the desire to protest. Her mouth opened and closed several times until she finally growled in frustration, spun around, and stomped away, poor North Ridge falling to the ground for what he hoped was the last time.
“Thank you,” said Princess Twilight, softly.
Princess Luna only grunted in reply, seated a few feet away, her back turned to both of them like a petulant child.
Princess Twilight turned back to North Ridge. “Why are you here? It’s not a coincidence, is it.”
“Ah, er, no, Princess,” North replied, standing up and dusting himself off. “I was hoping to speak to you.”
“To say what?”
He cleared his throat, embarrassed. “...I have to admit, I’m not sure! I thought I’d have more time before I actually got to this part. I, err…” Then he cleared his throat again and offered a dashing smile. “I suppose I would like to enlist myself to your cause!”
“...Assaulted one of my guards…” he heard Luna mutter loudly.
“Which I am very happy to apologize for! It was completely a reflex, I promise.”
Princess Twilight considered him a moment, her eyes scanning up and down, inside and out.
Finally, she spoke:
“I have to get ready for the statement. There’s an inn on Silvershoe Road, a few minutes from the town square. Meet us there tonight.”
“Perfect!” he exclaimed, bowing to her. “I will be there.”
She nodded. “Good.” She then looked at her companion. “Princess. Let’s go. We’re late.”
Without so much as a word to either of them, Princess Luna’s horn crackled with magic, and she teleported away with a loud ‘crack!’, startling him half to death. Princess Twilight simply sighed briefly, then offered North a final nod and teleported away too.
And it wasn’t until he was completely alone that he let out the breath he’d been holding.
Well then.
It was real now, wasn’t it? No going back.
But surprises were not over for North Ridge just yet. No, as he made his way out the street and then came to an abrupt stop when a voice called to him from within a dark, dead-end alley, he realized that the best surprises were always saved for last.
“Well, well, well.” He stepped into the alley, a delighted smile coloring his face. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
Though Rarity looked just the same as she had the day he’d left her, he was still just as mesmerized by her. Something about her had always compelled him, but it wasn’t solely her beauty, no. It wasn’t all the physical traits one would expect to cling to or nothing of the sort. It was something he’d never been able to place, a trait she’d displayed not just in the stories she’d told him but in the way she’d carried herself, in her voice, and most of all, in her eyes.
And it was funny to him how things played out.
How it could have been only then–there at the edge of no return–that he could finally find the word to describe Rarity the unicorn, the reason an old stallion who thought he was done decided to have one last adventure.
After all, the word had never occurred to him until earlier, when he used it to describe Rarity’s very own wife.
Enduring.
She said nothing to him. No smile, no quip, no nothing. Frankly, she seemed tired and stressed, much more so than usual.
“What are you doing here, Rarity?” he asked. “If you’re here to see me, I’m delighted you’d risk so much to do so!”
“I’m not here for you,” she said curtly. Then she added, almost begrudgingly, “But I’m happy to see you.”
“Then why are you here?” He had an inkling, of course, but his inkling could very well be wishful thinking, so he needed to know. “Last time we met, you told me you’d be going far, far away! That it was the only way to ensure he’d lose, and you knew best, and blah blah blah.” He saw her eyes narrow as he spoke, but he continued, unbothered. “Did you change your mind?”
If only looks could kill! He’d be dead where he stood.
Her eyes burned into him and then softened with resignation. Not a particularly apt emotion, he felt, but that would be negotiated later.
“Yes. I changed my mind.”
“What changed it?”
If her anger had been contained before, it was no longer.
“What changed it?!” she barked, incredulous. She slammed her hoof on the ground. “You did! You forced my hoof! You and your–!” She couldn’t finish her sentence, letting it peter out into a strangled groan. “What does it even matter why? I don’t have a choice.”
He laughed. “What? Yes, you do! We always have a choice!” He stepped towards her, and her averted eyes confirmed he was on the right path. “I may not have known you for very long, either, but what I do know is it seems no one can force you into making a choice you don’t believe in, Rarity.” He allowed himself a smile. “Including yourself, it seems like.”
She said nothing for the longest time, tears washing over her eyes.
“Don’t you want to at least try?” he asked. “Don’t you both deserve to try?”
She looked at him from the corner of her eyes, her voice small. “How do you know it won’t go badly?”
“I don’t!” he replied. “But do it, regardless.”
The tears continued.
“But I can’t risk that, North. Don’t you understand? To put her through… Through…” She looked away again. “I can’t. I can’t risk it. There’s simply no other choice for us.”
North grumbled, stamping his hoof. “Yes, you can! My stars, mare, are you even hearing yourself? ‘I can’t risk it’! I’d take that from anypony but you. What about everything you’ve told me? What about the Rarity who charged into a dragon lair to try and get a book? Did she give in to the fact that it was risky? No! Or what about the Rarity who had no qualms telling Discord what she thought of him when he forced her to dinner? Or the Rarity who confronted her partner even if it could go badly? Hmm? Did that Rarity ever balk at risks?”
“That Rarity is gone,” she replied harshly.
North rolled his eyes. “You can tell yourself all you want if it helps you sleep at night, but I know for a fact that if that Rarity were actually gone, then you–” He pointed at her, crying, broken, and enduring as she was. “You wouldn’t be here. If all those stories of you are true, then you may be many things, but a quitter isn’t one.
“So,” he continued, “instead of giving me every excuse in the book, you’re going to go on and finish this.”
She was silent another moment, the tears rolling down her cheeks one after another, ears clamped against her skull, tail wrapped around her legs until finally, she confessed:
“I’m scared, North Ridge.”
“That’s fine,” he said with earnest conviction. “You’ll just have to do it scared.”
When again she said nothing, he continued. “Look at me. Look at me, really!” He waited until she did so and then stood tall and proud. “I may not be a hero of your caliber, filly, but I’ve had my fair share of risks in the West between bandits, mercenaries, pirates, and more! I’ve had to go through things you’d write about in horror stories. And you know what?”
“What?” she asked, quiet.
“Well, let me tell you, the number of times I’ve pissed myself from fear at the thought of doing something is not zero! But I did it anyway!”
Rarity contemplated him. Then said:
“North, I see your point, but I cannot stress enough how much I truly did not need to know that.”
He ignored her.
“So now, next time you’re scared, if you haven’t emptied your bladder, you’ll know–”
“Stop, stop! You’ve made your point!” she interrupted, and he only shut up because of the relief and joy he felt at the sound of her laughter and the sight of her smile. Giggling, she closed her eyes and sighed. “You’re lucky you’re funny, North.”
“Thank you! My wife said the same thing, too.”
Before anything else could be said, a trumpeting sound rang in the distance, drawing both their attention. Seconds later, they saw several ponies excitedly rush past the alleyway entrance, headed towards the town center.
“Oh, my stars,” Rarity whispered, swallowing hard, her eyes following the ponies still running past in the distance. “It’s starting. I’m really doing this, aren’t I?”
North nodded. “It will be fine. Twilight trusts you. And as a wise mare once said, you should trust yourself, too.”
Rarity exhaled a shaky breath. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. But.” She licked her lips. “Be that as it may, I think I might be sick.” She brushed a hoof through her mane. “Granted, I don’t quite know if I can even be sick, but I certainly feel like I will be.”
North chuckled sympathetically. “There, there. You still have some time unless you’re planning to crash the event! If not, you have at least several hours. Based on the few I’ve attended, your wife isn’t one for, er, brevity.”
Rarity’s ear flickered at that. Her lips curved into a soft smile, as if for a moment, all the things weighing her down had been forgotten.
“My wife,” she repeated in a whisper, more to herself than him. She glanced at him. “You’ve never referred to her that way before.”
“No? My mistake.” He bowed his head. “But I’m not wrong, am I? Unless my memory is finally failing me.”
Rarity’s eyes twinkled with rare delight. “No, you’re not wrong. To an extent.” At the sight of his opening mouth, she quickly and painfully added, “Please don’t ask me to elaborate.”
“Duly noted!” He stayed quiet for all of two seconds before running his eager mouth again. “So who proposed?”
Rarity frowned. “North.”
He waved his hoof at her, half-dismissive. “Oh, come on! You know I’m a romantic! Was it her?”
Rarity bit her lip before proudly declaring, “No, actually, it was me.” She then paused. “Well, technically she did, too. Technically both of us, but–!” She cleared her throat. “I made the first proposition, as it were, inspired by–” She stopped herself and playfully shook her head, rolling her eyes. “Stars. Inspired by a foalish prank Princess Luna pulled on us sometime after we freed her.”
North Ridge sat down, getting comfortable. “Now this I need to hear.”
“What? Now?” Rarity asked, amused. At ease, if only for a moment, which he knew she sorely needed, especially if things did indeed go bad. “Don’t be silly.”
“I’m not being silly! Did you not hear me when I said Princess Twilight rambles as the day is long? What better way to pass the time than to tell stories! Besides, you’ve told me so little of your adventures after freeing Princess Luna.”
Rarity pursed her lips, pouting briefly, before finally relenting with a sigh. “Well, fine. I suppose secrets don’t really have any use now, do they?”
With a final glance toward the alley’s entrance and her destiny beyond that, Rarity sat down before North Ridge and gathered her thoughts, her hoof idly reaching for the brightly glowing necklace hanging from her chest.
“Once upon a time…” he prompted, playful.
“Once upon a time,” Rarity repeated, amused, “having just freed a trapped alicorn princess while also going through a very dramatic but necessary talk with her beloved, there was once a unicorn who believed not just in fairytales, but most importantly, in her justly earned Denza-given right to do nothing for a whole entire week, thank you very much.”
“How did that go for her?”
Rarity laughed. “Terribly.” Then she grinned and said, “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
- 02 - The Memory That Haunts
If Rarity had learned anything from her many experiences with painful goodbyes, it was that the faster one could get them over with, the better.
While years ago, she might have reveled in the fuss and the excitement and the poetic pang of things coming to an end, now she just wanted to avoid it all. It would be easier this way. No fuss, no hassle, departing at the crack of dawn and leaving behind nothing but a letter. Very efficient, she’d said when pitching it to Twilight.
And yet, as she stood over her bed, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles on the sheets, she found that taking the…not the coward’s way out, but the simple way out was harder than expected.
The door of her room creaked open, followed in short order by Twilight Sparkle, looking entirely too cheerful and awake considering the unholy hour.
“Rarity?” Twilight said, the only one of the two who’d actually slept a wink. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, yes!” Rarity replied, affecting a cheerful tone as she tore herself away from the bed she’d no longer sleep in, inside the room she’d no longer live in, inside the home— She turned to Twilight, forcefully swishing her tail behind her. “Just making the bed!”
Twilight raised her eyebrow. “The bed you’ve already made six times in the past fifteen minutes?” As Rarity’s ears dropped, the teasing lilt in Twilight’s voice faded, replaced with sympathy. “Do you want to stay and leave later with the others?”
Rarity held the notion tight against her heart a moment but forced herself to let it go, shaking her head.
“No. No, let’s just… It’s too late to change plans, regardless, and—”
“Too late?” Twilight interrupted, the playful smile returning. “Too late to cancel our secret early exit that only you and I know is happening?”
“Oh, don’t tease me, Twilight, I’m already an awful mess,” Rarity chided half-heartedly, Twilight’s giggling chipping away at her aggravation.
“Sorry. But I’m just saying, we don’t have to go through with this.”
Rarity looked away, forcing herself to keep her hooves glued to the ground instead of smoothing a sheet already smoothed to oblivion. “I want to. It’s just…” She sighed. “I didn’t expect this to be so hard, I suppose. I…”
But that wasn’t right, was it? It wasn’t really that it was hard, moreso that… Well…
“You…?” Twilight pressed, and Rarity felt embarrassed to answer, but she did regardless.
“I didn’t expect any of this to happen so soon.” She smiled wryly. “Frankly, I didn’t expect this to happen at all. I thought I’d be living in Hollow Shades for years trying to free Princess Luna, but here I am not even two years later, already leaving.”
From the corner of her eyes, she saw Twilight open her mouth to speak, and self-inflicted guilt forced Rarity to continue talking, turning from Twilight’s gaze as she forcefully interrupted her.
“And it’s good, of course! It’s wonderful we freed her so fast! And that you’re here, and I know I’m being selfish, and complaining over nothing, I know, but… I was finally settled.” Her throat felt dry. “I was comfortable.”
“I was comfortable in my library,” Twilight replied, finally drawing Rarity’s gaze towards her, even if it was more of a half-glare than a gaze.
“That’s not the same at all!” she said, indignant.
“No, it’s not. You’re right,” Twilight conceded. “But this isn’t permanent. Once we free the others, we can always come back here. The Dreamland isn’t going anywhere.”
Rarity felt the urge to protest but instead remained silent, which, judging by Twilight’s frown, was as if she’d protested anyway.
“Rarity,” Twilight said severely, “what happened? Where’s the Rarity that moved from her hometown to a little village in the middle of nowhere far away from her friends, huh?”
“She’s too old!” Rarity replied, ignoring Twilight’s trademark Rarity-Please Look. She placed a hoof on her forehead. “Withered away! Too old to upheave her entire life all over again!”
“Alright, Grandma,” Twilight said, ignoring Rarity’s immediate scandalized gasp. “If that’s the case, then you’ll be happy to know I already put all our luggage outside, so all that’s left is taking your creaky old bones out to join it.”
“Old BONES?” Rarity squawked, following Twilight out into the second-floor hallway. She noticed the raspberry magic of a noise-suppression charm enveloping the two of them as they walked. Grateful for the considerate gesture, Rarity continued yelling. “You’re a THOUSAND years old! How DARE you?”
A chipper Twilight stopped at the top of the stairs to look back at Rarity.
“As a matter of fact,” she continued cheerily, “time displacement put my body in stasis, so for all intents and purposes, my body is still literally that of a twenty-four-year-old. Meanwhile, you are going to turn thirty in a month, so!” Twilight giggled, giving her partner a sultry look. “You like them young, do you, Madame Rarity?”
“Tuh-Twilight!” sputtered poor Rarity, practically tripping over herself as she chased her giggling marefriend down the stairs. “The ONLY cradle robber in this relationship is you! You seduced me!”
Twilight laughed hard at that, her horn glowing with magic and opening the front door. “I seduced you? With my awkward conversations and repeated destruction of your property?” She stopped short of leaving and turned to her partner, eyebrow raised. “Either you’re giving me too much credit, or your standards are very low.”
Rarity gasped theatrically, stamping her hoof on the floor. “How dare you imply my marefriend is anything but the finest pony to walk this land?” she demanded, doing her best to stifle a giggle of her own as Twilight trotted outside, making a great show of rolling her eyes. “I won’t stand for this!”
“You’re walking,” Twilight pointed out, closing the front doors as soon as Rarity was out and then grinning broadly at Rarity’s trademark Twilight-Darling-Dearest-Please Look. “Anyway,” she continued. “Mocha Waft said she’d be opening her café early for us, so let’s get going. I don’t want to keep her waiting.”
It wasn’t until that moment Rarity processed that she was outside the Dreamland.
“Get going?!” Rarity exclaimed, startled. She rushed towards the door. “Wait, I’m not even remotely rea—Oof!”
To her great whining despair, Twilight’s magic grip on her was stronger than her will, moving her away from the door.
“You are ready,” Twilight said. “I checked the entire place ten times while you were re-making the bed again and again.”
“But—! But—!”
“Rarity.” Again, Twilight affected her gentle but firm tone reserved for Rarity’s many ‘shenanigans’, as she called them. She levitated Rarity over so they were face to face. “No more stalling.”
“...But I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” Rarity said, the whining laced with real, genuine sincerity as Twilight placed her on the ground. She looked the Dreamland over, ears pressed against her skull. “Leaving like this feel so… so… so blasé.” Her eyes lingered over Incantation’s bedroom window. “What about poor Incantation? Will she be alright?”
“I’m sure she will,” Twilight replied, giggling when Rarity again whined theatrically and buried her face in Twilight’s chest. She wrapped a hoof around her marefriend, nuzzling her affectionately. She then moved away from Rarity and gestured over to the suitcases a little ways away. “We’re going to miss our train. Come on.”
Rarity’s eyes fixed themselves to the Dreamland, a pang in her chest. It really was time to go, wasn’t it? Time to leave, to move on, to allow things to change once again.
Well, she thought to herself, steeling her nerves, she’d fought dragons before and survived. Surely, she’d survive this too.
“All right… Let’s go before I change my mind,” she conceded, forcing herself to join Twilight near the suitcases. She looked them over a moment, and then levitated a small, purple one. “I shall take this one, then.”
Twilight blinked. “That one’s mine.”
“I know that, dear!” she replied, fluttering her eyelashes. “As we embark on this new part of our life, is it not appropriately romantic that I carry your burden?”
Twilight tilted her head. “Aw… Rarity… My burden of one single light suitcase,” she said, affection pouring out every word right up until she arched an eyebrow and snark took over. “And I suppose it’s only fair I carry your burden of seven large suitcases, right?”
“It’s only fair, my love!” Rarity called out as she trotted away. “And romantic!”
“Romantic.”
“Devastatingly romantic!”
Half an hour later found the two mares sipping coffee in to-go cups outside the dimly lit Hollow Shades train station, the many ads on the noticeboard barely readable under the pre-dawn sky.
“All the ads are old,” Rarity noted, idly reading through them. “You’d think they’d have gotten rid of them now that the town’s opening again.” She took one down in her magic and read aloud: “‘Seeking Night Celebration! A night like no other!’” She frowned at an illustration. “Hold on, there were piñatas shaped like Discord? I never saw those! I’d have thoroughly enjoyed assaulting one of those with a hammer.” She turned to Twilight with a teasing expression. “Wouldn’t you?”
To her surprise, Twilight did not return the sentiment. She simply looked away towards the tracks, speaking as if she hadn’t heard Rarity.
“I think the train is late.”
She’d probably hoped such an obvious change of topic would have an effect, but it only served to do the opposite. Rarity frowned as she pinned the notice back on the board, her narrowed eyes set on the Discord piñata.
Hellish, manipulative beast, she thought.
She hadn’t forgotten the implications of Twilight refusing to condemn Discord the day before during the town meeting.
“Twilight,” she said, casually walking over and cuddling against the alicorn, intertwining their tails, “may I speak my mind on the subject of Discord?”
Twilight said nothing, her eyes still glued to the train tracks disappearing into the horizon.
“Twilight?”
“I’m debating it,” Twilight finally replied. “I know if I ask you to drop it, you will, but I know I’ll be thinking about it instead for hours, so.”
“How about a question, then?” Rarity suggested, changing her approach.
She knew exactly how she felt about Discord and how she thought Twilight ought to feel about him, but… Well, Twilight was not her, so it might be better to think more like Twilight and do some research instead.
“One question,” Twilight allowed.
One question.
Rarity licked her lips, running the different possibilities over in her head, until she finally settled on one that she hoped would encompass the root of the issue.
“Why do you struggle to believe Discord is irredeemable?”
She felt Twilight immediately stiffen next to her.
“I’ve never defended him, Rarity,” she said curtly.
“And I never at any point implied such a thing,” Rarity replied, as firm as she could be gentle, “did I?”
One, two, three seconds passed, and Twilight slumped ever so slightly.
“No.”
“No,” Rarity repeated. “The only thing I asked was why you act as though you believe he can be redeemed. Why do you hesitate to—”
The sentence ‘call him what he is, which is a vile monster’ clung to her lips. It felt easy to say, because it was true for her, but…
“What makes him worthy of any kind of sympathy?” she asked instead. “I know you feel tricking him was…wrong, but why hasn’t everything he’s done since convinced you you have nothing to feel guilty about? Surely any grace that tricking him gave him shouldn’t even matter anymore after everything he’s done?”
Twilight didn’t reply, her gaze elsewhere, and Rarity forced herself to let the matter go, having pushed her luck enough as it was.
But it was hard!
It was difficult to let it go, to not conceive how Twilight could even hesitate to utterly and completely vilify him. It was so obvious for Rarity, so easy to do, his dozens of cruel atrocities as plain and eternal as the train tracks stretching out before her.
But she knew Twilight was not dumb. She knew Twilight Sparkle had grown, gone through hell in past years, clawing herself out of her worst thoughts and impulses, trying to be better one painful day at a time. The Twilight standing next to her was in no shape or form the same as the alicorn Rarity’d found in a library years ago, so then…
So then, if this Twilight still had a reason to have a shred of kindness towards Discord, it had to be for a good reason, didn’t it? But what could it even be, because Rarity couldn’t conceive a single reason he deserved nothing but death.
“Discord had a chance to steal my crown.”
Rarity blinked at Twilight, her train of thoughts smashing to a halt.
“Excuse me?”
The alicorn was still staring at the tracks as she spoke.
“Before he found out. We were… Princess Celestia sent me out to deal with something in the West, and he came with me, and it went wrong. Really wrong. Not because of something he did, but—” She cut herself, and then continued, “The point is he ended up with my Element.”
Rarity frowned. “But the Element didn’t work on its own. Or at all.”
“I know,” Twilight replied, her tail thumping against the ground like an anxious drum. Thump, thump, thump. “But he didn’t know that then.”
“...Ah, right. So, he stole it?” Rarity immediately clarified, pressing further into the matter.
“No,” Twilight corrected just as fast, wincing ever so slightly. Sounding ever so slightly defensive. “I gave it to him.”
This got a start from the unicorn, as well as a gasp. “You gave it to him?”
Once more, Twilight stiffened against her, and guilt washed over the unicorn.
“Not that that’s bad,” she hastily added, even though it was. “I’m sure you had your reasons.”
“I don’t…” Strain cracked Twilight’s every word. “I don’t want to talk about it, but it was bad, and the only thing that mattered was saving my element. So I gave it to him because he was there, and he...”
“He realized it had no power?”
“No,” Twilight replied, her gaze lowering down to the ground before her. “He could have. He could have left me there, and taken the Element, and realized I’d lied to him. But he saved me instead, and gave me back the crown, even though he thought that was the only thing we had over him.”
“He gave it back?” Rarity asked, dumbfounded. She was expected to believe that Discord had a chance to destroy the very thing he believed held power over him, and he didn’t? “I don’t believe it. He must have known it was fake. Could he have known?”
A pause.
Until Twilight Sparkle finally looked at Rarity, and with a genuine smile, quietly said, “That was more than one question, Rarity.”
The train arrived eventually, late but not late enough that the two of them had to sit with their emotions too long. Not that they would have, regardless, because Rarity had meant well, and Twilight knew this, so when she changed the topic by asking if the cold weather was manageable for a senior such as Rarity, the two fell right back into their comfortable teasing dynamic, tacitly agreeing to continue the conversation some other time.
But the conversation didn’t end for Twilight.
It was just as she’d said, that even if the matter was dropped, it would linger in her mind, and linger it did, all the way into the train, into the cabin, and into the long hours, Rarity asleep next to her while Twilight looked out the window and remembered.
Funny, she hadn’t thought about it in so long.
She thought about it constantly when in the library, going back to that day over and over and over again, but she’d stopped after being freed. Maybe it was because the novelty of being free left little space for ruminations, or more likely because she knew Rarity was in pain and for as long as she lived, Rarity would always come first. Or maybe it was both, or maybe it was neither, and it was just the fear that she was defending him.
But Rarity was fine now, and the novelty of being free had worn off, and now she’d been questioned on why she thought there was a chance of redemption.
All that was left was Discord.
And that day.
Waking up in that cot, dazed and drugged out of her mind on medicinal herbs, distraught ponies coming in and out trying to alleviate the pain that came with her back leg having been practically snapped in half. She could hear them whispering amongst each other, appalled because a princess had almost died under their watch.
And humiliated that it hadn’t been they who saved her, but Him.
Him, the great evil, the great demon, the great spirit who breathed only because the Equestrian princesses were kind enough to let him—too kind, they thought.
She remembered him lying on a mat on the other side of the cot, meticulously licking his wounded front paw like a cat. Her eyes then trailed the rest of his body, lingering here and there on the actual wounds littered all over, crusty with blood nopony else had offered to help clean.
It was silly, but until that moment, she’d never thought a creature such as he could bleed.
“How’s the leg, dear princess?”
She blinked at him, startled that he’d noticed her staring, even if he himself still looked preoccupied by his paw.
“It hurts,” she croaked.
“I’m not surprised,” he replied, sympathetic. “You did snap it like a twig.”
She glanced down at the rest of her body, catching sight of the many bandages dotted all over her body. They’d dressed her wounds, she noted, and guilt washed over her.
A guilt, however, that was quickly forgotten when her eyes landed on the golden crown clutched against her chest, stained with somepony’s blood. His, she surmised, but she still hoped it was hers. That would be better, easier on her soul.
Her Element of Harmony. The Element of Harmony, in fact; the only one that probably existed, which now belonged to her. A dingy, shiny crown she was forced to wear upon her head every day like a curse; ever a reminder of the fraud she was, weighing down her spirit just as much as her forsaken unearned wings.
She hated it.
She hated it, she hated it, she hated it. She hated that she’d found it, she hated that it didn’t even work, and she hated most of all that it had made her a liar.
“Now, now, princess,” his voice came again, soft but firm, his eyes set on hers. “There’s no need to cry. You made it out alive!”
Just as he said, she realized then that she’d indeed started to cry, tears stinging at her eyes.
When she said nothing, he rambled on, affecting a cheery tone.
“And if you’re going to cry, at least be bold about it! Cry like you mean it!”
He turned towards a potted jar of water on a nearby table, and when he snapped his claw, two big cartoonish eyes and a mouth materialized on it.
“Boo-hoo-hoo!” it wept dramatically, comically large droplets of water splashing out from inside it. “Boo-hoo-hooooooo!”
“You call that crying?! Put more heart into it!” he commanded, only for his anger to subside and turn into delight when what filled the air but giggles.
Satisfied, with a snap of his claw, the weeping jar wept no more, and Discord turned to the giggling princess with a broad smile.
“See?” he said. “Now, that’s crying, princess.”
For a moment, forgetting her predicament, she opened her mouth to speak, only for her remark to become a strangled cry when she leaned on her leg a bit too much, and agonizing pain shot right through her.
Through eyes cloudy with tears, she saw Discord immediately stand up, annoyed.
“Incompetent,” he hissed, stalking towards her and throwing the cot’s entrance a dirty look. Once he reached her, his expression softened, and despite her wincing, he placed his wounded paw over her covered leg. “Hold still.”
He didn’t notice her moment of fear. Or, if he had, he ignored it, instead simply standing there until she felt a pulse of warm magic seep into her body.
“Discord?” she stammered, afraid, only just starting to register the sharp pains fading out with each pulse. “What…What are you doing?”
“Helping you,” he said, unimpressed. “Isn’t it obvious? It won’t do much for long, but it’ll help until they bring more medication for you.”
“O-Oh,” she said, and she felt guilty again. “Thank you.”
He didn’t acknowledge her words. He was too busy observing the crown tucked in between Twilight’s forelegs.
“All this mess because of one little crown,” he said, and she did not miss the disdain his tone took on at the very last word. He too hated her crown, it seemed, as much or perhaps more than she ever could.
She clung to this thought, and still dazed by it all, a word tumbled out of her mouth unbidded.
“Why—?”
She cut herself off, almost afraid of asking. Of knowing.
“Why, what?” he asked, his eyes glued to the star-shaped gemstone.
“The crown,” she croaked, willing strength from who knew where. “Why did you give it back? You…You could have taken it, you—”
“I could have, yes,” he said, and nothing more.
“But why didn’t you?” she pressed, desperate to know so she could—So she could what? Find out if there was goodness in him, and feel even worse about her lies? Or—? Or what?
“Why did you give it to me?” he asked instead, still uninterested in meeting her gaze. Eyes on the crown, and only the crown. “I know I said I wouldn’t take it, but why did you? Why should you?” For a split second, his eyes darted towards the outside. “They certainly didn’t think you should have. So, why did you, dear princess? I could have been lying.”
“Because we’re friends.”
She had never said it before. Never once dared speak it into truth, even as Discord spent his time around her, and she allowed it.
But it was true. Wasn’t it? It was. Wasn’t it? They were friends, they’d become friends, she thought just as she’d thought long into the night, telling herself that they were friends, and friends were kind, and friends forgave, and friends understood why one lied to the other, and—and—and—and—
“And friends don’t lie,” he finished, so deep in his thoughts he missed the emotion in her eyes, threatening to choke her out.
“I could have taken it,” he said. “I could have, and left you to die, but I didn’t.” A humorless smile curved his lips. “If you had been Celestia or Luna, I might have considered it. But… It was you.”
Finally, he looked at her, and her uncertainty over whether he was genuine or not when next he spoke would haunt her for centuries to come.
“And you, Twilight, are my friend.”
Author's Note
hey remember how i was like "gonna update this every two weeks"??? well guess what, new plan, gonna update this whenever the stars align 
anyway, happy new year! I've been busy as hell in the past few months between applying to grad school, holidays, and working on the colors of the soul multichapter, but I finally was able to sit down and crank this out. I did a lot of writing last week, and would have done more this week if half my city wasn't on ✨fire✨but it is what it is.
Also, just a a soft reminder, I've been posting TEra chapters on my website first (linked below) so if you want to read next chapter sooner, you can go check it out there. ;D
If you like my work, please consider tipping me or subscribing on Ko-Fi! Writing is my secondary source of income, so every little bit helps c:
Additionally, I have a personal writing website! There's stuff I post there that I don't post here, so be sure to check it out if you're interested! Just click here!
