She barreled through the sky, the term “speed” an afterthought as she tucked her wings and hooves inward. As the drag slowed her down, she plummeted earthward, pivoting her weight forward and initiating a sustained roll. Tumble after tumble, she plummeted. Ground, sky, ground, sky, ground, sky.

Lower and lower she went, the ground taking up more vision on each rotation, until…

“Now!” you cried out, hands cupped on either side of your mouth.

In the blink of an eye, her wings shot out to full length, primaries angled downward as far as they could go without increasing drag. She untucked from her cannonball and stretched out as much as she could, arching her back to better assist her wings in acquiring the lift she needed.

‘Come on, come on…’ you inwardly prayed.

Her perfectly curved climb began steadily, and your heart soared…

Until she wobbled mid-ascension, bringing her out of her intended target for completion.

“Dang it!” she shouted, evening herself out as she settled in place a few feet off of the ground.

You walked the brief distance over to the middle of the grassy field where she hovered, water bottle and towel in hand. Sweat dripped from her furrowed brow, a few beads catching on the corners of her mouth as she struggled to get a good breath.

“What happened?” you asked, bottle and towel both outstretched towards her.

“Same thing that’s been happening all day,” she grumbled, touching down and taking both articles in her wings. “I can’t get enough air under me for that stupid upswing.”

She took a few gulps from the water bottle before roughly patting her forehead with the towel.

“I just…” she tailed off, finally touching ground after an hour of uninterrupted flight. “What even is this stupid stunt? Is Captain Spitfire crazy?”

She groaned aloud as she covered her face with her free hoof.

“How am I supposed to get this down in two weeks?!”

You frowned, the captain’s decision still hot on your mind.

“We should probably take a break,” you suggested. “You’ve been at this for…”

You twisted your wrist around and checked the face of your watch.

“Four hours. You’re exhausted, babe.”

“I don’t have time for breaks,” she replied, agitation all-encompassing. “If I can’t get this trick down in time for the show, I’m so bucked.”

“You really think so?”

Dash nodded as she hoofed everything back to you.

“She’s testing me,” she glowered. “We’re drafting a new unit of ace fliers for next year’s show team, and she knows I’m gunning for the lead spot. Her pushing this onto me is basically making it a sink-or-swim deal.”

“I’ve actually been wondering about that,” you began, unsure of how to broach the question that had been gnawing at you.

Put plainly, Dash had mastered far harder maneuvers in half the time she was given by Spitfire. Your mare was quite literally a savant at any and all manner of flight. Stunts, speed, endurance, it didn’t matter - there was no ceiling that she couldn’t soar through. Knowing that, you couldn’t piece together why the trick was proving to be such an issue.

You had to ask carefully, though. You loved her to death, but under pressure, her fuse shortened considerably; the last thing you wanted to do was light it.

“I know you can get this down. I mean, you’ve done crazier stuff than this. Remember the Centrifuge Spiral?”

Dash cringed instinctively.

“I wish I didn’t,” she replied, stretching her left wing sporadically as if she was reliving her injury. “But yeah, I remember.”

“Exactly! You’ve got this. Just a little lift issue, nothin’ to worry about.”

She said nothing, spaced out looking at the ground in front of her. Her breaths were steadier, but you could practically feel the weight of the worried air leaving her lungs.

“It’s not that easy,” she muttered as she shook her head. “I’m just… it’s hard right now, alright?”

You frowned, eager to pinpoint what the area of difficulty was.

“Well, it can’t be your primaries,” you mused, cupping your chin with your pointer and thumb. “Helped you preen a week ago. Flight muscles feeling alright?”

She nodded, still zoned out.

“Yeah.”

“Wing joints?”

“They’re fine.”

“Secondaries?”

“Anon, I’m fine,” she tersely replied, done with your questionnaire. “It’s not anything like that.”

She sat down on her haunches, a heavy sigh accompanying.

“I just…” she began. “Look, I’ve just got a lot on my plate right now. It’s hard to think straight.”

That tell-tale churning in your chest began again as you kneeled down next to her and pulled her into a sideways embrace. She leaned into it, but her wings stayed by her side, unlike usual.

“Did you want to talk about it?”

A long silence followed, one that made you increasingly worried.

“…I can’t.”

Your frown deepened.

“Why not?”

“I just can’t, okay?” she said sternly as she gently pulled away and lifted off of the ground into another hover.

“Dash, what’s-”

“I can’t get into it right now,” she interrupted, locking eyes with you. “I will eventually, but not right now. Everything is just all jumbled n’ all over the place right now and I just… need to get this stunt down.”

The expression she held was multifaceted in both confusion and irritation. Whatever it was, it overwhelmed her.

You weren’t sure what to say as you stood up again.

“…Okay,” you finally replied, disheartened. “I mean, it’s… almost seven, though. Aren’t we getting dinner?”

Dash winced.

“I think I’m gonna stay and practice some more,” she said as she gained height. “Can you get me something? I’ll eat it when I get back to your place.”

Try as you might’ve to have kept up appearances, your expression couldn’t help but turn sour.

“It’ll be cold,” you deliver monotonically.

“Eh, you know me. I’ll still eat it.”

You couldn’t help but gawk at her. The only look being returned to you was a pained smile.

A multitude of conclusions were leapt to in your head, none of them pleasant. You weren’t scared of any disloyalty, obviously. Rather, you looked inward, and found old insecurities clawing their way up from deep within the recesses of your memory. With a sigh, though, you enabled a sort of heightened ignorance - it wouldn’t do to have any of those resurface again.

“Alright,” you said in defeat. “Don’t stay out too late, Dash.”

As you turned to leave, you just barely saw her crooked grin fall. You didn’t get more than a few steps away before she called out to you again.

“I love you, big guy!”

You spun around on your heels, walking backwards for a moment. You couldn’t focus on her expression - your mind was elsewhere.

“Love you too.”

Unceremoniously, you whipped back around, wondering if that imitation meat place on the edge of town was still open.

Her hayburger sat at the end of your dining table, undisturbed in its packaging.

Cold, just as promised. After three hours, you’d be surprised if it wasn’t.

At the other end sat you, reading a book you were pretending to be interested in. You couldn’t name any of the characters, what was happening, who was against who - nor did you really care that much.

The house was dreadfully quiet when it was missing one of its usual voices. In its place, the settling wood spoke its grainy mutterings. It was, decidedly, a poor conversationalist.

Dash didn’t officially live with you, but she might as well have been. You even had a little bed for Tank set aside for when she’d stay here for a week or two at a time. The thought might’ve brought a smile to your face, if it hadn’t been for her bizarre behavior earlier.

‘What’s going on…?’ you thought. ‘Is it me? Did I do something wrong?’

You shut the book without fanfare and tossed it up onto the table. It clattered on its edges for a split second before settling, the sound stirring up the dust in your ears. With a turn of your head, you took a peek at the clock - it was almost ten thirty. The windows had since blackened, the only light outside being the crepuscular illuminance of Luna’s moon.

‘Is she seriously still out practicing?’ you wondered, unable to sit still.

…

All at once, your frustrations came to a head as you all but leapt from your chair. Sitting still was no longer something you could stomach - you were going back out to that field and dragging her home if you had to.

You grabbed your coat from the nearby rack and donned it in a single, swift flourish. Single-mindedly, you made for your shoes, slipping them on in the span of a second or two. You threw the door wide, more than ready to go looking for your mare, but you only made it a few steps into the cool night air before you noticed someone standing in your walkway.

The door behind you clicked shut as you drank in as much detail as the dull glow of the moon would allow. It didn’t take long to recognize the mare standing before you.

“Dash?”

Even from where you stood, you could hear her shaky, somewhat labored breathing disrupting the stillness of the night. She was trying her best to keep her head high, but it was clear that she had run herself ragged after you left. Her wings were half-unfurled, hanging listlessly out to her sides. Her workout bag, normally fastened to her barrel, hung similarly limp. Perhaps worst of all, those deep magenta globes you loved getting lost in were disconcertingly agitated, nearly to the point of being bloodshot.

All of your worries crumbled to dust, all thoughts wilted into nebulous nothings. All but one:

Make sure she’s okay.

She sniffled abruptly, bringing you out of your stupor.

“Babe, what hap-”

You made it exactly one step forward before she was upon you, belly-to-belly as she wrapped her forehooves around you in an iron grip. The rush of air from her sudden movement slammed into you as you hugged her back, arms locked tightly onto her just below her extended wings. A sudden weightlessness overtook your body as she angled her wings earthward in a powerful downward thrust, lifting the both of you into the air at an alarming speed. You let out a yelp in surprise, but Dash paid you no mind as you rode the express train to heaven.

She’d done this before, on a number of occasions, but with one key difference - on all those previous outings, you had always downed a cloudwalking potion beforehand.

“Dash!” you cried out as you struggled to hold on against the crushing g-force. “D-Dash, I don’t have a potion!”

She said nothing, her head pointed skyward as you blew past countless cloud formations.

“Rainbow!”

“In my bag, little pocket!” she called out, still focused on drilling through the sky. “Hold on!”

You tightened your grip in response. You knew she’d catch you if you fell, but the fact that Ponyville had become a tiny speck underneath you raised your heart rate quite considerably.

Before long, though, the two of you slowed to a leisurely pace, eventually coming to a hover near a wispy, delicate-looking patch of cloud. Below you was the endless navy blue of an Equestrian night, dots of light interspersed frighteningly infrequently.

You held on for dear life as she straightened out, legs dangling over precious nothing.

“I got you,” she reassured you. “Think you can reach it?”

“Y-Yeah…”

Against all of your survival instincts, you somehow managed to wrench your arm free of her barrel. You unzipped the smallest pocket of the bag and dug around for a second before your fingers brushed against a cool, glassy surface. When you found your grip, you fished it out and popped the lid with your thumb.

As it plummeted back down to the earth, you downed as much of the potion as you could, some of it escaping down your cheeks and onto your shirt.

When it was empty, you shoved the vial into her bag and zipped it shut. Your free arm clamped around Dash’s torso again, finding its home just underneath your other hand.

“Alright,” you said, voice muffled against her tuft as a result of the awkward angle of her idle hovering. “S-Slowly.”

Precariously, she lowered you down until your shoe was touching the cloud, only relaxing when you felt some resistance against the ball of your foot. Mercifully, Dash must have felt your growing sense of ease through your close contact, as she hovered more directly over the cloud, allowing you to find your footing.

She didn’t let go of you, though - as she folded her wings back onto her sides, her unexpected weight toppled you, forcing you onto your back as she buried her face in the crook of your neck. The cloud felt like you were laying on top of a whisper, on something so delicate that it might have given way at any moment.

It never did, though.

“Can I drink it on solid ground next time?,” you joked, struggling to get your breathing back to normal.

Dash said nothing - she only tightened her grip on you as you lazily rested your arms across her withers.

She shook under your touch. It was way colder at that elevation, sure, but you had a feeling that wasn’t what was causing it.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” you asked, desperate to hear her answer.

Apart from a muffled apology that cast heat across your jugular, all you were met with was silence. You moved one of your hands to her mane, stroking it with as much affection as your adrenaline-addled body could muster.

“It’s okay, babe. You know you can talk to me about any-”

“We should get married.”

You froze.

The hand you had moved to her hair slipped free and returned to your side as she propped herself up against your chest, looking down at you.

“I-I’ve been, uh…” she stuttered.

Her raspiness was more pronounced than usual; it threatened to stop your heart. After a few moments, though, she gathered herself, a rosy red blush adorning her cheeks.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to propose to you for, like, the last three months, but I just… I can’t figure out how I want to do it, even with the girls’ help.”

She facehoofed as her blush deepened.

“I’ve been going crazy trying to figure it out, dude. One day, I think I know what I want to do, and then the next, it’s something totally different! And when I finally make my mind up, somepony goes ‘oh, that’s not a very marely way to do it,’ and then I gotta start all over again!”

She heaves a sigh from deep within her chest, coating you in her charged, berry-scented breath.

“You know I’ve never been any good at mushy stuff like this. I don’t know how I want it all to happen, but… I know I want you. I love you, ya big dork. That’s never gonna change. So, just… however you want me to pop the question, just let me know, okay?”

That whole “never been any good this” shtick was a lie, and you both knew it. Case in point: right then and there.

Even so, you were silent for a moment as you drank in her features. Your face burned in the fires of adoration, beset by the same rose-tinted hue that devoured much of her cheeks. There were a lot of things you wanted to say to her, but at the moment, you could only think of one cheeky reply as you moved your hands beneath your head.

“Go ahead.”

She froze atop you, a bewildered eyebrow having climbed higher.

“…Huh?”

“Do it.”

“Do what?”

You giggled aloud, astounded at how thick she could be sometimes.

“Ask.”

She looked around incredulously before refocusing on you.

“…Right now?”

You nodded.

“Mhm. Right now.”

“…And you’re sure you’re okay with-”

“Oh my God, Dash, please.”

“Okay, okay,” she capitulated. “Just making sure…”

She shuffled on top of you for a bit as she positioned her head squarely above yours. Micro-adjustments were made here and there that you could feel in the shifting weight on your chest, but eventually, she settled. Her entire face was beet red, and as she loomed over you, you could see her swallowing in quick, nervous succession.

She took a deep breath into her lungs, and…

“Will you marry me, Anon?”

…

Oh, how you adored her.

Your Rainbow.

The one who cleared your skies.

You reached up and cupped her face in your hands. Even after her rigorous workout, her fur was softer than silk. You gently guided her down to your level, closing your eyes as the distance between you dwindled. She sank into you as your lips touched, and you felt her wings unfurl from her back and wrap around you, shielding you from the cold.

It wasn’t heated, borne of lustful desire, nor was it chaste and light - instead, it was firm, reassuring…

Enduring.

As you parted from her with a wet pop, you couldn’t help but gaze into those magenta globes you loved getting lost in.

“You know I will, Rainbow.”

Author's Note

mild break on this series for a bit while i prep an update for the Wanderer - be back shortly