Yet the Sea is Not Full

by KinglordFranon

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Crossover
Length: 1578

In aftermath and anti-climax Rarity is feeling dissatisfied with her life. And not even a trip to the Crystal Empire will change that.

Rarity loves her friends, but they cannot help her. She loves Rainbow dearest of all, but she does not and definitely cannot help her. The monotony and bareness of life is getting to her. Perhaps a holiday will help. The Crystal Empire is lovely and decadent. Perhaps she will forget herself for a while.

This is a crossover with Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises .
Despite indications to the contrary, this is not a romance as will become clear.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-04-15 17:20:01 UTC

Chapter 1

Twilight Sparkle is the newest Princess of Equestria. Do not think I am much impressed by that because honestly I am not. I knew she was different in some way. I am a little surprised. I should not be. There is nothing surprising about it.

I’m sure she was destined for it, I’m sure she’s the most fitted for it, I’m sure she’s a leader, a symbol, and stronger than anyone I know of, and most deserving of that faraway castle and those royal duties, so as such it does not matter that her interpersonal skills require official, top-of-the-line tutelage and that she has only ever lead desperate crowds, nor does the suspicion of any grooming favouritism affect my view of matters. It is sensible, so there is no reason to be impressed.

She is in Canterlot, I think. I look at the calendar. It is April and there is a post-it note on two days from now. I look at the third dress, a red one, for Bon Bon or Carrottop or Rose. I consider the last frill again. I look at the clock and it is much too early. I ease the needle through the material and hear it. There is a knock. I put down the dress on the other two.

I open the door and Applejack is there. She has an awkward smile.

“Hi, Rare.”

“Why hello, Applejack.” The smile becomes less difficult.

She moves her hat. “Wanna go drinkin’?”

“It’s nine on a Tuesday.”

“Yeah, in the evenin’.”

“You’re normally too exhausted.”

“Mac’s forcin’ me to take two weeks off. Said he’d break mah legs and bed-bound me if he saw me workin’” She tries to chuckle. “Sounded a lot better from him.”

“Two weeks?”

“Said ten years ’s worth least that much… Ah’m sorry, are ya workin’.”

I look back at the three red dresses. I cannot tell which I was stitching. “No.”

“So ya wanna get a drink?”

“Oh, yes.” I levitate my purse to me then shut the door behind me. “Where to?”

“‘The Waterin’ Hole’.”

I cringe.

“They say the name’s ‘ironic’.”

“How so?”

“Ah dunno.”

We walked and it was dark. As we go past Sugar Cube Corner Pinkie’s light is off. I wish her light was on. We continue for a while. I have never been this far out. I did not think Ponyville was large enough to have a seedy side or even an undesirable itch. I think I see that gel-maned filly, but they all look like that.

After a few blocks of buildings emitting harsh music from constantly swinging doors, I see a flickering neon sign. ‘The Watering Hole,’ it says occasionally. I do not like the smell or the bricks or those two in the alley.

“Is this ‘ironic’?”

She nods. “It’s ironic inside.”

We walk in and I remember the Crystal Empire. Everything shines and the décor is crimson under tinted light. From the ceiling potpourri hangs, magically enhanced so you can actually smell it. I have not smelt blue roses before but I think of them. I almost do not notice the music but I cannot deny it is utterly suitable, something tapping and slow. The ebony bar dully glares in the light. From every wall I can feel decadence dripping and I just want to melt into it.

“Ah thought ya’d like it.”

“I am sorry for ever doubting you.” I realise I am smiling. “Not to offend, but what do you see in this venue.”

She gasped. “Am Ah not allowed to like the occasional fancy thing.” She smiles. “’Sides it’s been a while since Ah’ve had a chance to throw away bits.”

We go to the bar. The bartender is a few years older than us. His goatee and moustache combo takes hours to make up and is not worth it. His suit is quite good. Stallion clothing is usually so dull.

“Ah’ll take ya best cider.”

“Apple Family Cider, then.” He turns to me. “Ma’am?”

“A Zebrican Essence.”

His eyebrows arch.

I turn to Applejack. “Surely you can get that at home.”

“Tastes better here for some reason.” She looks to the bartender. “Supplier’s discount, right?”

He is under the bar. “Yes, Miss Applejack.” He pours a gold liquid and scrapes the froth off.

“Ah can’t believe ya haven’t heard of this place.”

“I don’t drink often.”

“Your Zebrican Essence, ma’am.” He pushes a tall, thin glass towards me with a grin. It looks like water.

I take one sip. “And the rest of the day?”

“Beg ya pardon?” She takes three mouthfuls at once.

“It’s nine. Surely you’ve had other fun on your holiday.”

She takes two gulps and rubs her eyes with her other hoof. “Ah walked past Sugar Cube Corner. Then the library. Then went by Fluttershy’s. Then ran into Rainbow…”

“How is she?”

“Same as ever.”

“She was quite perturbed on Friday and Saturday.”

“And that specifity means what?” She finishes hers in a gulp. “Ambiguous! Another!”

“Oh, she was antsy. A bit clumsy.”

“More or less right.” She bangs her drink. “Ambiguous! Ah won’t tell Mac otherwise!”

“But this is different.” I take a sip. Over the bar and on the far left I see the bartender bending over. “Seems a shame.”

“Seems too obvious.”

There is a slam and ponies stop talking. They look over their shoulders and talk again. The bartender scowls. I turn around and see Rainbow Dash stretching out her wings and body, defining all her muscles under her coat. She walks up and I see her sweat matted coat and tangled mane. I smell Everfree rain on her.

When she is just behind us Applejack turns around. “Why do ya never take a shower before coming?”

“You never do.”

“Ah earned it. Ah do real work.”

I say, “Dash does so do real work.”

Dash’s eyes widen at me. They are bloodshot.

“What the hay, Rare!”

“Pardon?”

“Last night!”

“How was she?”

“What the hay!” She is huffing on me.

“Surely it wasn’t that bad.”

“What were you thinking!?”

“You look so made for one another.”

“She’s a mare!”

The patrons start talking again. The bartender comes up, shakes his head and points to the ‘We Have The Right To Deny Service’ sign.

“So you’re not a…”

“No!”

“Really?” Applejack asks.

“Yes!”

The bartender shushes us and taps the sign. He goes back to serving Caramel.

Dash sits down at the place next to me. Her eyes are closed. Her breaths are shallow. “Besides she’s one of those Nightmare culters.”

“Is she?”

“Don’t give me that buck.”

I take a mouthful. “I’m so sorry Dash, but… did you not suspect something when I asked you meet another mare for dinner.”

“Yeah, but then I remembered, ‘Rarity doesn’t think I’m a…’ – Ambiguous, get me a bucking cider!”

He stamps over and taps furiously at the sign before going under the bar. He pours out something with a griffon on the label. She drinks half of it.

I look at the bartender. “I thought your type were jolly.”

“Would you like a top-up, ma’am?”

I decline, take a sip, look at Caramel, smile and shake my head at the bartender. He leaves. Rainbow is tapping out the mug’s last drops. Her tongue is fully extended. She slams the mug down. Breathing deeply her ribcage expands and contracts and her feathers bristle slightly.

“I really am sorry, Dash. I was… rash.” I wait for her. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

She is holding up her mug and shaking it at the bartender.

Throughout the night she has seven more refills and I have none and I have lost count with Applejack. Applejack is a dignified drunk, the most dignified I have ever seen, more than when she is sober. And so bucking dull.

“Applejack,” I say. “Do you want to head off?”

“Ah’m alright.” She takes a mouthful and brushes her brow.

I am grabbed from behind.

“I’m so bucking sorry!” Rainbow’s voice cracks at every second syllable. “I was a real dweeb!” She laughs. I feel her leg muscles tense and move on my torso as her chest fits my back and it is divine and warm and firm. She smells like Everfree rain and perspiration and I am not disgusted.

“You’re smashed!”

“Nuh-uh!” She lets go and I feel cold. “I’m better than ever!”

“Dash, how many hooves am I holding up.” I lift my left.

She screws up her face like one of Fluttershy’s cuter animals. “Ah-ah. It’s a trick. None!”

“You’re smashed!”

“No you are!” She taps my chest and falls forward. I catch her and put her leg over my shoulder.

“We’re getting a cab.”

“I can fly!” It tickles as one of her wings fails to open against me.

“You can’t walk.”

“My house is in the sky!”

“Not tonight.”

I explain to Applejack. Dash and I walk out. There are fewer ponies outside. That gel-maned filly is across the road. She nodding and smiling at us. At some point we got in a cab.

“The Carousel Boutique,” I say.

Rainbow is lolling slightly. “Huh?”

“I can’t let you fly up in this state.”

Her head rolls about and she is blinking a lot. “Right…” She falls onto me and rests her head on my lap. Her eyes are drooping slightly, but are very much occupied.

“Oh, Dash,” I laugh. “I am so miserable.”