Chapters For one so joyfully rambunctious, you really... sleep quietly, Pinkie. Through half-lidded eyes still heavy with sleep, Rarity peered at the mare snoring softly beside her. In stark contrast of her usual unbridled gaiety, Ponyville’s party mare lay calm, with her hooves tucked up to her chest and a mane full of ribbons. Attempting to tame such a full-bodied mane was a woeful waste of hair product, as Rarity had found after numerous attempts, but that didn’t mean that it couldn’t be persuaded, or at least spruced up. And yet, as genuine as the mare’s enthusiasm seemed to be, Rarity couldn’t well believe that Pinkie had found a passion for fashion, and the mare’s increasingly flirtatious behavior had become a point of concern.
While I am... grateful that nothing happened last night, the fact remains that she is in my bed. I can honestly say that I never expected to extend this courtesy to Pinkie Pie, of all ponies, but she looked... so very desperate... Shifting her weight with every intention of climbing out of bed so as to start her day, Rarity was given cause to delay as her friend rolled over and curled up to her side, mumbling incoherently in her dreams. Hesitating for a moment, Rarity let loose a sigh and slipped a hoof around Pinkie Pie, holding her lightly.
At first, the baker’s visits to that place of glamour had been few and far between, starting some three months back. Rarity was at first annoyed with the change, as Pinkie’s natural exuberance made concentration effectively pointless, and while she had shooed the mare out a few times in her frustration, Rarity had begun to pick up on subtle shifts in Pinkie Pie’s behavior. With anypony else, taking a nap wouldn’t be cause to so much as bat a carefully maintained eyelash, but when the spirit of sugar suddenly ceased her antics at a word and made use of the nearest bed, legitimately conking out for a good hour or more, the act took on new meaning. Also, and perhaps this was just the late bloom of maturity in a child who was never expected to grow up, Pinkie had developed the curious habit of responding with startling seriousness, especially surrounding the field of romance. Rarity continued to ponder these things for a while as the mare, as calm and tranquil as a still pond, batted an ear and giggled at a joke unheard by the woken.
“You really are a complicated mare, aren’t you?” Rarity murmured with a tinge of a smile. I always knew that whoever ended up with you was going to have their hooves full, but to think that you had such a tender side... Memories of the prior evening came drifting back, along with the painfully awkward hesitation at the door. It was nearly midnight when Rarity had attempted to usher her out, only to have the mare’s mane slowly relax and fall around her shoulders. Not even her most expensive conditioners could manage such a feat, and the mare’s hushed voice asking to stay filtered back through the corridors of Rarity’s mind.
“‘I’ll be really, really quiet,’ you said,” Rarity recalled, wrinkling her nose as a curl rubbed her snout. “‘You won’t even know I’m here,’ hmmm? I’m afraid you were mistaken in that, Pinkie, but that’s... quite alright.”
“Does that mean we can do this again?” Startled by the sudden voice, Rarity hastily withdrew her hooves as eyes that reflected the sky lazily opened to greet her own, accompanied a playful smile and slightly flushed cheeks. Shirking what remained of her drowsiness with a fitful yawn, Pinkie Pie fixed her attention on a hesitant mare searching for an answer. I know I shouldn’t press. I mean, she didn’t even want me to stay, but it was way better than sleeping alone...
I’m not so sure I wish to encourage this, but... ugh, Pinkie, why must you be so aggravatingly sweet? “I’ll... consider it,” Rarity said slowly, watching her friend’s features come alive. “We did have quite a night last night, now didn’t we?”
“I’ll say!” Pinkie cheered, throwing her hooves wide. “Remember when you were on your seventh drink, and you-”
“Yes, quite!” Rarity hastily interjected, clapping a hoof over the mare’s muzzle. “Let’s just keep that a secret between you and I, shall we?” Blinking once, Rarity watched with mixed emotions as her friend clasped both hooves over the one pressed to her lips, nodding once. “Pinkie, dear, are you...” Rarity started, but fell silent. Asking questions always seemed to put a damper on the mare’s spirits, and at that moment, Rarity could tell that Pinkie’s cheerfulness was the real thing. She didn’t want to be the one to stifle the Element of Laughter, and thus Generosity allowed her hoof to remain where it was despite the curiosity and worry nagging at the back of her mind.
“Goodness, my mane’s a disaster,” Rarity remarked, glancing across the room at a large mirror. “As loathe as I am to remove your pacifier, I must shower. May I have my hoof?”
“Timeshare?” the mare offered, pulling away just enough to speak clearly.
“Pinkie, it’s my hoof.”
“Now, let’s not be stingy!”
“What? I am not stingy.”
“Great, then I’ll play with your hoof later!”
“Of course you will,” Rarity conceded, rolling her eyes a little. “Now then, I-”
“Need to get clean!”
“Yes, that’s- Pinkie? What’re you doing?!?” Rarity wailed as she was bodily hoisted and paraded away. She didn’t finish the statement, primarily because within a few moments her questions were answered as she was gingerly tossed into her own shower. Without a moment to protest, a soothing cascade of steaming relaxation poured down upon the mare. “And I suppose you intend to accompany me?” Rarity asked, prying apart her mane to find that Pinkie Pie was already romping around the rather spacious, dual-nozzled shower.
“Oookay, if you insist,” Pinkie Pie replied, lacing her words with skepticism as if accepting a questionable bargain. “Besides, everything is better with friends! Baking, sewing, drinking, bathing... everything!” It didn’t take long weighing the the options to realize that sending the mare away sopping wet would not only send the wrong message to anypony watching her exit, but also like leave the mare pitifully crestfallen.
“Fine, you may stay,” Rarity said with a sigh, closing her eyes and holding a hoof to her head. This needs to stop... I can imagine worse romps than spending a night with Pinkie, but this isn’t her. If only she’d tell me what’s wrong...
“Did I do something wrong?”
“Huh?” Rarity murmured, brushing away violet locks to reveal Pinkie Pie focusing intently on her with a look a deep concern.
“You’re not gonna send me away, are you? Do you want me to go?”
“Wha... no, dear, why ever would you say such things?” Rarity soothed, standing and drawing close. I can’t keep running from this... Staunch feelings of dread churned the mare’s empty stomach into a roiling mass of discomfort as Rarity braced herself to ask what she’d been wishing to know for the past few months. “Is there something on your mind, Pinkie?” For Pinkie, her lack of a response cried out louder than the blast of her party cannon. “Would you... like to talk about it?”
“Sure! I love talking!” Pinkie fired back with a transparent grin. “What would you like to talk about? We could talk about chocolate, or rain, or chocolate rain, or raining chocolate, or-”
“I’d like to talk about whatever it is you’re avoiding. And don’t even try to deny it, Pinkie,” Rarity interjected as the mare opened her mouth and raised a hoof to make adamant and indignant rebuttal. “I may be a lady, but I am no fool, and you’ve been skirting around the subject for a while now.”
“Skirting? Oh, nonono, I don’t wear skirts. I like that dress you made, though! The one with the peppermint swirls?” Rarity’s stern gaze was unwavering, whittling through the mare’s layered facade of smiles. Pinkie slowly sat down, staring at the floor as water coursed around and through her mane, streaming down her muzzle like tears she hadn’t the ability to shed. I don’t want to ask. If I ask, then I’ll get an answer, and I already know the answer, and it’ll just hurt worse if I have to hear it, and there won’t be... anything to keep me smiling... Rarity watched with growing concern as Pinkie’s mane gradually lost its volume, straightening and melting melting her shoulders as it had the previous evening. “I’ve... gotta keep smiling...”
Pinkie, why in Equestria won’t you just open up to me? Formality and social perception had no bearing when set alongside the needs of a friend. Concern canceled any shame that might have tried to take hold as Rarity joined Pinkie’s flow and drew her close, delicately wrapping the mare in a caring embrace. She’s... shaking? But... but she cannot possibly be cold! Pinkie... With a multitude of questions begging for answers, there was one that stood out above all the rest, and was the only one that Rarity dared to ask.
“Is there... anything I can do to help?” At first, there was no response, but a gentle pressure against her chest bid Rarity relax her grip. No longer able to tell if the water coursing down the mare’s cheeks were from the shower or not, Rarity’s breath caught as she found herself looking into clear, blue eyes that once blazed with passion. Instead, all she could see was sadness beyond her glassy reflection. “Pinkie...”
Rarity couldn’t have know just how much self-control Pinkie had been putting out over the last few months, nor how many times she had nearly caved and let it all out. As anyone would attest, Pinkie Pie wasn’t the type to show restraint, whether it was drinking the Apple family’s cider dry or relentlessly tailing Rainbow Dash until she caved to the mare’s urge to play. However, every act eventually comes to a close, and as Rarity raised a hoof to the mare’s cheek, the last remnant of will power snapped.
An ivory hoof fell limp and useless to Rarity’s side as Pinkie Pie closed the distance between them and leaned into a deep, though delicate, kiss. No tongue followed after, no rambunctious playtime or laughter, and even as Rarity’s first impulse was to pull away, she stayed where she was, wishing she could understand. Dizzy from the suddenness of unanticipated passion, Rarity blinked back water and confusion as Pinkie slowly withdrew, immediately looking away. As the silence stretched on, she timidly lifted her gaze, searching her friend’s face for rage, finding only perplexion in the wake of her advance. One may rightly say that the absence of anger should speak volumes of Rarity’s care for her friend, especially since she herself was rather sensitive to the subject of romance, but Pinkie couldn’t see this. No, all she saw was the absence of a smile.
“I’m... sorry, Rarity...” Pinkie murmured, turning her head away once more.
“I, uh... do not worry about it,” she replied hesitantly, her words forming slowly as she scrambled to make sense of what had happened. Each second painfully scraping passed was a moment a friend spent steeped in doubt, but try though she may, there simply wasn’t enough to go on. Forgive me, Pinkie, but I must be direct. “I am not angry with you, but I must admit I am rather... confused. What is this all about?”
Rosen lips parted, making the movement of speech but none of the sound. Enshrouding both dials in a pale blue light, Rarity shut off the flows, listening as an uneasy quiet settled over the room. In the absence of a consistent cascade, the few remaining droplets dribbling from the spouts plopped onto the tile like miniature thunderclaps, and Rarity felt a lump rise to her throat as she realized that it wasn’t the shower that had caused the streams upon the mare’s face.
“Pinkie, what...” Rarity began, reaching out only to have Pinkie scramble to her hooves. “Pinkie I couldn’t- Pinkie, wait a moment!” Rarity called out as the mare bolted towards the door. Rarity made as if to give chase, but froze as she was flashed a broken smile from her sniffling friend.
“Thank you for having me over, Rarity. It was... really, really fun, but I need... need some sleep... Bye!”
“I don’t... Pinkie, where are you going?” Rarity called out, starting after her as she fled despite the distraught unicorn’s cries. By the time Rarity had made it to the main room, the boutique lay empty, with the front door swaying in the breeze. Standing in the doorway in a condition she wouldn’t dare to be seen on any other occasion, Rarity brought a hoof over her lips as she caught the briefest glimpse of a once fluffy mane trailing behind her friend who quickly disappeared from sight.
“Sleep?” Rarity echoed, her voice coming out quiet and frightened as she sank into a sitting position, scanning the crowds in a futile attempt to find what wasn’t there. Why would she be going to sleep if she just awoke? This is all wrong, and... and why would she... Letting her sopping mane shield her eyes from a bustling town empty of the one pony she wished to see, Rarity hung her head and closed her eyes. Even in the early morning, there was plenty of clamor about the town, but all she could hear was the laughter that wasn’t there, and it drowned out all the noise with silence.
Rarity couldn’t say how long she remained in her doorway, staring out at the town, but it had to be longer than she perceived as her mane was partially dry by the time she rose unsteadily to her hooves. Plodding back inside, her heavy sigh was preceded by a passing glance towards one of her many mirrors, causing her momentary pause. Shaking her head and watching the naturally wavy mane bob its partially formed curls, she enshrouded a couple of products in her aura, holding them for a moment before letting the glimmering light fade; her mane would require too much effort in its current condition to tame, and she hadn’t the strength to fight it.
Noting with wearied amusement that straight manes were still in fashion, she made a couple passes through her hair with a fine-bristled brush to at least maintain a decent appearance before returning to the main room and plopping down at her desk. While she didn’t have much cause to brag in a town like Ponyville, her success as a designer was garnering the attention of quite a number of big names, despite a certain Element’s near daily interruptions. At the same time, such immaculate ponies required equally divine apparel, and in the wake of her friend’s teary departure, Rarity just wanted to find something that wouldn’t require too much imagination.
I never thought I’d curse my high profile, but I would certainly love something simple to work on right now. Perhaps some foal’s clothes, or a quilt- I haven’t quilted in quite some time, actually. Idly sifting through the stack of letters with a hoof, Rarity glanced at names and addresses with utter disinterest until a simple white envelope emblazoned with a red cross caught her eye, rousing what little curiosity she had the energy for. Without a second thought she broke the seal and began to read.
“Dear Miss Rarity,
I know that you are a talented seamstress, featured in multiple fashion publications, and likely bombarded with requests on a daily basis. While this letter may carry the official seal of the Manehatten Children’s Hospital, this is more of a personal request than anything else. I do not know if you are aware, but this establishment also doubles as an orphanage. There are many fillies and colts here who will likely never know a family other than the bonds they share with one another. Ordinarily, their spirits are high, despite the poor conditions, but recently, they have been in dour spirits.
What I would like, Miss Rarity, is for somepony to make blankets for each of the children here. The rooms are so drab and colorless, it’s a wonder that they smile at all, but I really think a little color would go a long way. I had to beg the board of directors to allow me any funding at all for this, but I’m afraid I still cannot offer very much, no more than five bits a blanket. All told, there are some forty children here, so two hundred bits is all I can offer.
If you do not wish to accept, I understand.
Sincerely, Oopsy Daisy”
Her hooves trembled as she set the page down and stared, awed as a tremendous wave of munificence crashed down upon her as passion seemingly forgotten flared within her chest. Anypony had only hear Rarity speak to know that she was sophisticated, one who could easily rub hooves with the elite of society despite her humble upbringing, and she couldn’t deny that she craved the popularity, fame, and fine treatment of a celebrity, but Rarity wasn’t as shallow as her dreams would appear. No, what set her apart was an unquenchable charity running deep within a heart as soft as diamonds were tough, and a sweep of the mare’s hoof sent a maelstrom of discarded envelopes fluttering to the floor as Rarity lifted over a pen and paper, feeling her desire rekindle like a breath of life as she began writing a response.
“Dear Oopsy Daisy,
Far be it from me to accept compensation that could be spent on children in need. It is often easy to forget how fortunate we are when we aren’t confronted with the truth of other’s needs with any kind of regularity, but it is not merely my duty to address them, but also my joy. Keep the money for the children; It would be my pleasure to make the foals’ blankets free of charge. Do not worry about delivery, either, as I shall bring them to the Hospital myself. I would dearly love to meet the children.
Sincerely, Rarity”
Never before had one small letter filled Rarity with so much excitement. Eager to begin, she hurriedly addressed an envelope and slipped her missive within before skipping to her mailbox and thrusting the letter inside, whereupon she let forth a squeal of glee before racing back inside to begin selecting fabrics and drafting designs.
“Now, the colors must be bold and vibrant,” she muttered to herself, sifting through her vast arsenal of cloth. “Reds, yellows... oh, this pink would be lovely... so very soft, too! Oh, this will be fabulous!” Painting the skies within the boutique in streams of vivid magenta and rousing crimson, the mare cantered over to her drawing board, whipping out a couple of sketches and sitting down to begin, only to feel a tug of a more somber kind gently let the fabrics fall to the floor.
“Even knowing nothing of fashion, I’m sure that Pinkie could be of use... I cannot imagine anypony wearing a frown with her hoofwork wrapped about their shoulders.” As if to confirm her suspicions, she took another look at her designs, only to find that they were as extravagant as any noblemare’s dinner dress. “How quickly am I caught in the moment,” Rarity lamented, heaving a sigh as she stood. As dearly as she’d have liked to push everything from her mind, the right and proper path of a friend was the one she chose to tread, leaving the shop and making straight for Sugarcube Corner.
Not even the rich scent of pastry could dilute the heavily saturated fog of gloom pervading the bakery as Rarity stepped inside. Jubilant chatter had been replaced by a dull murmur while the ponies picked at their food with apathy, their sullen expressions the very opposite of the smile that was once the hallmark of the brightly colored establishment. Swallowing nervously as she strode down the center aisle, Rarity stepped up to the register and shuddered as Mrs. Cake spoke without an ounce of vigor.
“Oh, hello, Rarity...” the mare said, sounding exhausted despite the sun only having been up for an hour. “Is there something I can get for you?”
“I wish that I could indulge, but it is most urgent that I speak with Pinkie Pie at once,” Rarity managed in an even tone. “I fear that I may have hurt her feelings somehow, and I wish to make amends. Is she upstairs?” she asked, starting towards the hallway.
“No, I’m afraid she’s not,” Mrs. Cake replied, slowing the mare to a stop.
“Oh, I see... is she in the kitchen, then?” Mrs. Cake shook her head. “With the twins?” Another shake. “Out with friends?” Saying nothing, the motherly mare reached under the counter and pulled out a sheet of paper, sliding it across the case towards Rarity. Drifting closer, borne upon an azure aura, Rarity felt her heart sink into the pit of her stomach as she read but two words that sounded like a curse. By the look of the ponies around her, it worked like one, too.
“Gone... home?” Rarity said slowly, glancing up in absolute confusion. “But... but I don’t understand! This is her home! Where else could she be?”
“I’m guessing she went back to her family on the rock farm,” Mrs. Cake replied, sounding cross. The chastisement only added to a guilt she couldn’t begin to understand, and Rarity turned her eyes back to the page, staring at the surprisingly neat writing, only to notice that it had also been written upon with salt and water.
Pinkie, could I really... have hurt you so deeply that you’d rather return to a place without color? Without laughter...
“I think it would be best if you left, Rarity,” Mrs. Cake stated, avoiding eye contact as she busied herself cleaning the display case. Setting the page back down, Rarity cantered away without raising a fuss. How could she? There was no reason for her not to assume that she’d played a part in robbing Ponyville of their stabilizer, and that was reason enough to bow her head in shame. Stepping outside and cringing as the joyous tinkle of the bell was snuffed out by the latching of the door, Rarity lifted her eyes towards the bustling townsfolk and stifled a whimper as she watched them go about their business, still blissfully unaware that the Protector of Smiles had vanished.
I cannot... truly consider myself to be a lady, no, even a friend, if I were to turn a blind eye to Pinkie in a time of such great need. It doesn’t matter that I must go to a place of dust and grit, where nopony knows my name... Even gems are buried under the soil, and I will dig as far as I must to find you, Pinkie. Though hesitancy quietly pleaded for prudence, Rarity couldn’t bring herself to pay her doubts any heed as she returned to the Boutique just long enough to grab enough bits to pay for train tickets before making for the station, determined to do whatever it would take to bring PInkie Pie back.
Sun. Dirt. Rocks. Earthen hues wove a bleak and arid picture as the midday sun hung high over the Rambling Rock Ridge, home to a family of four and miles upon miles of stones, shale, boulders and pebbles. Their quarry, more commonly known as a rock farm, was the sole provider of tile, cobblestone, and many other purposeful but seemingly inconsequential materials, and aside from an oddly shaped tumbleweed, there was little to disturb the norm. That’s not to say that the Pie family wasn’t happy, however. Even though they had lost a daughter, gone to find herself in the world beyond the slag, the joy that their brightly colored filly had brought left a lasting impression upon each of their hearts: a joy to offset the dreary land that they called home. Perhaps it was this joy that fueled a young mare’s hooves as she beat a trail across the sands, eager to share her wonder with the curiosity that had wandered onto the farm.
“Blinkie! Hey, Blinkie!” Inkie called out, skidding to a stop before her sister in a cloud of dust. Coughing a little and warding away the cloud with a hoof, the lavender mare fixed her ashen sibling with a bemused grin as she fidgeted in her excitement.
“Inkie, what’s got you so excited?” Blinkie asked, glancing around the mare and finding nothing of note nearby. “Did you get into the salt again?”
“No, sis, I’m not salty, I promise!” Inkie defended with a pout. “There’s a moving bush that’s colored all funny real close to the shale I was working!”
“A bush? Like, a green one?” Blinkie replied with a voice laced in wonder.
“It’s more than green, Blinkie! It’s got some pink in it, too! C’mon, sis! This way!” Abandoning the deposit of sandstone to tend to itself, Blinkie was soon galloping alongside her sister as the tantalizing notion of a distraction fueled giggles and chatter. Again skidding to a halt as she was prone to do, Inkie shot her coughing sibling an apologetic glance before raising a hoof towards the horizon, directing her sister’s attention to the green object slowly shuffling through the dust. “Isn’t that just the strangest thing you’ve ever seen, Blinkie?”
“Whoa...” the mare exclaimed under her breath, her eyes growing wide as she watched the mass pause its journey. “I thought that maybe it was just a mirage, but I’m seeing it too! C’mon, let’s get closer.” Following Blinkie’s lead, Inkie plodded after her sister as she worked her way forward, making full use of the many rocks jutting from the ground for cover. Finding a niche big enough for the two of them and only a few pony lengths away from the mass of greenery, the two poked out their heads to observe the bush more closely, drawn by the allure of mystique.
“See, sis? Can you see the pink?” Inkie whispered, poking out a little of her hoof towards the now-prone bush.
“Uh huh,” Blinkie confirmed with a murmur, her eyes darting from place to place. “I’ve never heard of a plant that grows in such crazy directions,” she commented, drawing Inkie’s attention to the branches that seemed to haphazardly point out every which way. “Don’t most plants, I dunno... grow up straight? And why does the color of the trunk look so much darker than the branches poking out of the top?”
“How should I know?” Inkie replied, nonplussed. “Maybe it’s magical?”
“Well, duh!” Blinkie teased, giving her a playful tap on the shoulder. “Everypony knows that tumbleweeds are the only plants that move around so much. Besides, it-” A deathly hush swept over the two as a whimper found their ears, borne upon a stale breeze sweeping across the plains. “D-did it just...”
“I h-heard it too!” Inkie confirmed with a muffled yelp. Their eyes grew wide as the bush attempted to move, it’s outer coat cracking in places and falling away, revealing beneath a vivid rosen hue. “Sis, that color! It’s...” It had been many years since they had seen a color so bright, but it was unmistakable. Inkie hopped down from her craggy hideaway with Blinkie close behind, and together they drew near the quivering mass of foliage. With a trembling hoof, Inkie reached out to touch what she had once thought was bark, but now found to be mud caked to a gaily colored coat. Blinkie too reached forward, revealing a trio of balloons with the gentle swipe of her hoof.
“P-Pinkie?” At the sound of Inkie’s voice, trembling with emotion and barely constrained tears, the bush stirred. Wonder had dissolved into fear and excitement to horror as what was once thought to be a magical plant fixed unfocused, sapphire eyes on the soot-colored pony leaning close, and with a shaky hoof, the filthy mare reached forward, touching her beloved sister’s cheek.
“You’ve... really grown up, sis...” The rosen hoof fell limp as the last of Pinkie’s strength gave out. Caving to the exhaustion that had tempted her with thoughts of giving in, Pinkie let her body have its way as caring hooves and distant cries of concern lulled her to sleep. Though her eyes remained cracked open, the party pony of Ponyville wouldn’t remember stepping through the door of her home for the first time in years. Despite the worry etched in the faces of her parents as they saw their eldest return in the worst of conditions, the comfort of their care filtered through. The corners of the mare’s exhausted muzzle tried their very best to lift towards the sky... but they fell short. Much like the arid ground outside, Pinkie’s smiles had run dry.
Never had Rarity imagined that the words “end of the line” would ever sound so melodious to her ears. Easing herself upright and groaning as her restless limbs protested her movement, the mare eagerly shuffled into line for deboarding, thankful beyond words that the trip was over. While the actual transit had only taken just over an hour, her mind was left with nought to entertain itself but worries, conjecture, and the passing landscape which had grown increasingly devoid of anything save earthy tones of red, orange, and brown. Unable to sleep for worry but neither able to justify maintaining attentiveness, the result of restlessness left Rarity feeling as though she’d splurged at an all-you-can-eat buffet after running a marathon: uncomfortable, exhausted, and twice as heavy as she should be. Stepping from the train cart brought back to mind some less than pleasant memories as her hooves were instantly coated in a fine layer of dust, and Rarity lifted sullen eyes to the simple architecture and old-style wooden signs hanging above the scant few business dotting the tiny town.
“Hello again, Dodge City. I trust you’ve been dirty?” Rarity mumbled, lifting a hoof an examining it with a sigh before lifting her eyes to the sky, which mirrored the ground in hues of scarlet and gold. Alas, I’ve no time to worry, at least not about my appearance. I daresay the ponies here probably wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference should I take the steps needed to look my best. Hmph! Glaring one more time at the dust and lifting her snout with an indignant and graceless snort, Rarity snubbed the sand and cantered through the town. There were plenty of ponies milling about, and fixing on one that stood out from the rest by virtue of her well-kept appearance, Rarity made her way over and introduced herself.
“Good evening!” she began in a courteous tone, donning a winsome smile as the earth pony mare stared blankly, blinking a few times at the newcomer. Despite having every intention of making her way to see Pinkie as quickly as possible, Rarity couldn’t help but take a few moments to appreciate how the pony’s cream colored coat complimented her milky espresso mane, neatly trimmed with just enough wave to be playful. “I must say, I absolutely adore what you’ve done with your mane,” she couldn’t help but say with undeniable enthusiasm. “Is that natural, or do you-”
“Here, drink this.” Stopping mid-sentence as a mug of steaming something was thrust towards her, Rarity took a step back at the sudden movement and regarded the mare with equal parts curiosity and bewilderment.
“I, er… I’m sorry?” she stammered out, tilting her head slightly.
“Tea: it’s for drinking,” the mare stated with dauntless conviction, moving the mug slightly closer as a faint hint of a smile teased at her lips. Though somewhat bemused, the mention of drink roused Rarity’s awareness that she hadn’t had anything to sip since leaving from Ponyville. Parched and worried that dehydration would wreak havoc on her ability to properly reason with Pinkie, and even more worried that she had thought of “reason” and “Pinkie” within the same sentence, Rarity graciously accepted the mug, nodded her thanks, and took a swig. It was mere moments after taking in the fluid that an overwhelmingly bitter taste with greater floral notes than the average florist struck her taste buds with all the gentleness of the average cast iron skillet to the cranium, and the mare maintained her neutral expression even as her gracious gift was reflexively sprayed full upon her face.
“Too strong?” she asked, watching with slightly crestfallen features as Rarity sputtered, coughed, and generally made a scene.
“T-too strong?” Rarity gasped, slightly offended that the mare even needed to ask. It was only with great effort that she restrained the tears beading in the corners of her eyes as sensory overload drowned both taste and smell with the cooling bite of mint and other herbs. “I’m sorry, but there isn’t a pony around that could possibly tolerate drinking something like that,” she concluded, levitating the cup back to the mare’s waiting hoof. “Was this some kind of-” Pausing as the mare quietly brought the cup to her lips, Rarity’s intended tirade was forcibly rescripted as she watched the wacky pony before her quietly down all but a few drops of tea. “...prank,” she finished unsteadily, strangely impressed despite her inner desire to fuss. It wasn’t until a few drops of tea splashed onto her chest as the mare quietly shook her head that Rarity realized what she’d done, adding a hefty dose of embarrassment to her already mixed emotions.
“Oh my goodness, I’m ever so sorry!” she exclaimed, flinching away as her hoof moved in to cover her mouth. “Is there anything I can do, miss…”
“Chai,” the mare murmured in a subdued tone, reaching behind the counter of her stall and pulling out a towel. “Vanilla Chai,” she added before mopping up what she could from her unexpected shower. “Don’t worry too much,” she said with a dry chuckle, noting the earnestness in Rarity’s eyes. “That’s not the first time I’ve made it rain with a brew too strong.”
“Even still, that’s no excuse for me to go and do that,” Rarity countered, lifting over the towel and dabbing at droplet that had escaped Chai’s notice. “I feel just awful!”
“There’s really no need, though I do appreciate your concern, uh…”
“Rarity,” she preempted, fretting a little longer over the last few drops of tea before returning the towel and donning and apologetic smile. “If it’s any consolation, your tea does leave quite the pleasant aftertaste,” Rarity commented, relaxing slightly as the mare allowed just a little more of a smile, though it was still hardly noticeable. “I should think I’d find your tea much more suitable as something that I may sip rather than greedily slurping as I did. I was just so thirsty, having come all the way from Ponyville. I just couldn’t help it!”
“Ponyville?” Chai repeated, thoughtfully tapping her chin and absentmindedly bringing the hoof to her mouth; she couldn’t resist the tempting scent of tea, no matter how faint.
“Indeed. I think that a dear friend of mine may have passed through this way,” Rarity explained, relaxing further as the expected backlash never came. Any pony from Canterlot would have been livid at something as undignified as having a few drops of tea splashed on them, let alone a mouthful, and it was with strange interest that Rarity found herself interested in the observation. There was, however, a more pressing matter for her to attend. “Is there any chance that you know if there is a rock farm near here?”
“It’s about half an hour’s walk outside town,” Chai confirmed, pointing down the road. “Just follow this path. If you set a good pace, you’ll probably make it there before sundown.”
“Well, I’d best be off then,” Rarity said, turning to leave. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Chai! I do hope to share some tea with you again soon. And… eheh, sorry again for the whole... spitting in your face thing.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it most certainly is not!” Rarity insisted, stomping a hoof lightly in emphasis. “It was dreadfully unladylike, and there was no cause for it. Well, perhaps there was- I mean, that tea was… you know, um…” Chai remained quiet while Rarity’s sense of courtesy caught up with her running mouth and grabbed the reigns. “Ahem. What I mean to say is that I could have at least aimed away from you, and I intend to repay you both for your patience and your generosity.”
“Decency is something most folk around here value highly,” Chai replied, that faint hint of a smile working its way back. “It doesn’t cost anything, but it’s worth more than bits can buy.”
“I very much agree,” Rarity seconded, sharing the mare’s smile. “Now, I really must be going, but I will make a point of dropping by before I leave home for Ponyville.”
“I’d like that. My house is just up the way,” she said, motioning towards the opposite direction of the rock farm. “You’ll probably be able to smell it before you see it.”
Though minutes before, hearing that statement come from anypony within Dodge would have garnered little more than revulsion from Rarity, but thanks to the mare waving her on, she left with growing respect for a town that she’d imagined to be full of raucous folk more given to sweating than showering. With her spirits refreshed and her mind delightfully preoccupied with her chance meeting, Rarity set her eyes towards the rustic horizon and started down the road, slightly less bothered by the dust than when she’d arrived. Slightly.
When a ceaseless fount suddenly runs dry, it is inevitable that questions are raised. Through the fringe of the Everfree forest and all the perils therein had Pinkie Pie braved in her flight from Ponyville, but such a simple task for the pony looked to as the pinnacle of pep could never have made the mare succumb to her fatigue. While her speed had been great and her journey swift, it was ultimately the weight upon her heart that brought her low in the sand-swept plains of the Ridge. Painful though it was, the truth of her dreams had been laid before Pinkie in a manner too plain to ignore, and in the wake of such a harrowing revelation, she wanted nothing more than to disappear for a time, frolicking in the land of dreams. It was a wonderful place, where any fanciful whim could be realized within a hairsbreadth of reality, but it was also temporary. Lulled into wakefulness by the comforting murmur of gentle voices, Pinkie lay still and listened, not feeling useful for much more than eavesdropping.
“Do you think she’ll notice?” the first voice asked, her voice quavering with uncertainty.
“You’ve managed almost every color in the rainbow, sis! Of course she’ll notice!” the second voice exclaimed quietly. Even after having been away for so long, Pinkie instantly recognized the voices as none other than her sisters, and even as lifeless as she was, she felt a familiar tension around the corners of her mouth teasing towards a smile as they continued their back and forth.
“Yeah, but, do you think she’ll like it?” Inkie pressed, still sounding unsure.
“Don’t worry so much! Pinkie loves parties, remember?” Blinkie reassured the mare.
“Yeah, but...”
“Inkie, it’s fine,” her sister replied with a tinge of exasperation. There was short silence followed by the soft plod of hooves moving across tired floorboards before Blinkie spoke again in a much more comforting tone. “We did our best, didn’t we?”
“But... there aren’t any balloons... sis loves balloons...” No longer able to deny herself the simple pleasure of a grin, Pinkie rejected her enervation and let the corners of her rosen muzzle stretch into a tired grin.
“You made streamers, didn’t you?” Blinkie replied encouragingly.
“Well, yeah, but...” Not willing to sit idle while her youngest sibling worried over her, Pinkie let her eyes slowly open, revealing a blurry world of dim rainbow. Another blink brought the distant forms of her sisters into focus. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed her family until the wave of longing crashed down upon her, and while she was helpless to stop her vision from swimming further as tears of quiet joy filled her eyes, her desire to escape slowly faded away. There was nowhere left to run: she was home.
“You girls... sure are silly...” Pinkie croaked, coughing a little as she realized she could really use a drink. Before she could even ask, Blinkie rushed over to her bedside, nearly crashed into the nightstand, and hastily poured a glass of water. Gratefully accepting the cup, Pinkie relished liquid reviviscence as it soothed her parched throat, though a giggle nearly sent it out her nose as she watched her sisters staring at her as if she were Celestia herself. Ever the timid one, Inkie remained peaking over the edge of the bed while Blinkie stood in full view with a hoof on the covers near Pinkie’s hind leg, her stalwart gaze exuding strength for both her sisters.
“Parties aren’t about the color,” Pinkie continued, hoofing the glass back to Inkie with a tired smile, “they’re about the ponies.” As wakefulness slowly eased her senses back towards normal, Pinkie took one look around the room and gave an excited gasp, sitting upright as the flicker became a tiny tendril of life. While a good deal darker than the usual colors one would see at a party, makeshift streamers wrought in earthy reds, vivid greens, and deep violets hung about the room, adding color to an otherwise dull and unfurnished abode. A banner stretched wall to wall, decorated with Pinkie’s Cutie Mark and depictions of confetti, and dominated by the message, “Welcome Home, Pinkie!”
“I think she likes it, sis,” Blinkie murmured, giving Inkie a pat on the shoulder and pointing towards Pinkie’s ever widening smile. They both shared a look of mutual confusion as a small section of her sister’s flat, straight hair suddenly curled without warning like a spring that had been stretched to its limit before finally being let go.
“Like it? I love it!” Pinkie exclaimed, throwing her hooves wide as a surge of strength initiated a rebellion against the tyranny of lethargy. Redirecting her attention towards her youngest sibling, who had lifted her head from the bedside to reveal an eager smile, Pinkie clasped her hooves together like a swooning fashionista might over a particularly large diamond and tilted her head to the side, beaming back at the soft lavender eyes searching for approval. “They’re really amazing streamers, Inkie.”
“See? Told you we’d be okay without balloons,” Blinkie chuckled, grinning as a soft tinge of pink lit her sister’s cheeks.
“Do you really like it, Pinkie?” Inkie pressed, standing on her hind hooves and leaning closer in anticipation.
“Really, really, reallyreallyreally like it!” Pinkie exclaimed, completely oblivious as two more strands gained their spring. Snatching Inkie from the bedside and forcibly pulling her into a tight embrace, Pinkie took a moment to cherish the warmth of good intentions before remembering that there was another pony in need of a hug. Blinkie, however, decided that said pony was Pinkie, and as Pinkie opened her eyes to motion her over, she found she’d already been enveloped in the young mare’s caring embrace. “Oh, I’ve missed you both...” Pinkie said softly, no longer feeling any resistance in her smile.
“We missed you too, Pinkie...” Inkie reciprocated with a sniffle, growing misty as she looked into Pinkie’s cyan eyes.
I wonder... is this what it feels like when I make other ponies smile? It’s... super wonderful. Normally one to chat a mile a minute, Pinkie found herself rather at a loss for words, or rather, simply didn’t feel the need to speak. Finding herself on the receiving end of comfort was always an oddity for Pinkie, at least in a serious sense, and she wasn’t about to deny herself a little piece of happiness after having one of her longest standing dreams dashed to dust. However, as she cracked open her eyes to pay her respects to Blinkie, something too exciting to keep quiet captured her attention.
“Inkie, you got your Cutie Mark!” Pinkie exclaimed, lifting the mare on a whim so she could properly inspect the mark. Unused to any prolonged contact and bashful by nature, Inkie couldn’t well stop the rush of crimson that overtook her muzzle as her flank was unceremoniously ogled by her older sister.
“P-Pinkie, c-can you... put me down?”
“Huh? Oh, sorry!” Pinkie quipped, setting Inkie back on the bed with an apologetic grin. “You’ve got a funny one, sis! It’s... a rock with a bow?” Pinkie asked, sneaking another quick peek before her flustered sibling covered herself with her tail. “So... what’s it mean?”
“I... k-kinda like decorating,” Inkie began to explain, brightening a little as her passion for spreading color dispelled her embarrassment. “See, we’ve got all kinds of rocks around the farm, and a forest full of plants on the east side! What I didn’t know is that many of them can be used to make all sorts of different dyes and such. One day, when I was bringing water for everypony, I tried to stop too fast and spilled it everywhere...” Pausing to pay her sister an apologetic glance for the umpteenth time, for which Blinkie rolled her eyes, Inkie continued with growing excitement, shifting her hooves with tiny movements as if kneading bread as she told her tale.
“Anyways, there’s all kinds of rocks and minerals out here, and it just so happened that the stuff I spilled the water on was really high in iron dust! It was kind of a yellowy brownish color, but I just... well, it reminded me of your parties, so I stuck my hoof in it and started brushing it on a nearby rock and... and... I got my mark!” Bearing witness to such youthful exuberance curled another two locks of the mares hair, but Inkie was too elated to bother commenting. “Really, I have you to thank that I got my Cutie Mark, Pinkie.”
“Me?” Pinkie asked, genuinely confused. “What did I do?” With a smile warmer than the gentle rays of the sun and a heart overflowing with gratitude, Blinkie gave Pinkie a reassuring squeeze before answering with dauntless conviction.
“You opened our eyes to a world we didn’t know existed.” Drawing away and taking a seat beside her sister, Blinkie revealed her own flank, adorned by the image of a small statuette.
“Even after you left, our smiles never faded,” Inkie explained, gazing back at Pinkie with eyes full of wonder. “I never would have discovered my love for color if you hadn’t thrown us our very first party. Before that, all I could see was the sand...”
“R-really?” It was all Pinkie could managed in the face of such open indebtedness that she didn’t even know she had earned, and where once her heart had been parched, the soothing cool of gracious words sealed the cracks and began to fill an empty glass.
“You threw us our very first party, Pinkie,” Blinkie piped up, pretending not to notice the moisture beading in her own eyes. “It was something new for me- for all of us. Even after you left, I began to look at the world in a whole new way. One day I found a rock that reminded me of a little turtle. I set it aside and kept working, but at the end of the day, I brought it inside. Working with a hoof and chisel, I started chipping away at it, and before I knew it...” she trailed off, glancing down at her side before returning her attention to the one who had opened her eyes and inspired her to be something more than just “that mare that gathers rocks.”
“I’d... made my very first pet rock,” Blinkie finished, grinning through misty eyes. “Inkie painted it the next day, and we sold it in town for a fair price. We both began working together to make more, with me carving the animals and Inkie making them all pretty, and we started our own successful little side business. Even more than that,” Blinkie continued, sniffling and drawing closer, “you inspired us, Pinkie. Working together brought us closer and made us look forward to what each day would bring. You might not know it, but you... you saved us, sis.”
First one curl, and then another, followed by three and four sprang to life as Pinkie looked from face to face. She knew that she made ponies smile, that she spread joy and good cheer on a daily basis, but there, sitting before her, was undeniable proof that she’d made more than just somepony’s day. Despite her antics and thought processes that often left ponies scratching their heads, she’d changed lives. The heart of a party was the guest of honor, and at that moment, even without streamers, confetti, or cake, the rosy mare known for her laughter let the dams break. Willingly yielding to the hooves that wrapped her in warmth, Pinkie melted under the soothing cascade of kindness that acted as a healing salve to the weeping mare, stitching together a heart torn asunder for reasons nopony knew. However, there was one who was determined to find out, and everypony looked at the door in confusion as a knock interrupted the restoration.
“Pinkamena?” her father asked, poking his head through the door. “It’s good to see you awake. There’s somepony here to see you, says she’s a friend.” Standing aside to make way for another guest, all eyes fixated on a white coated mare of refinement as she slowly entered the room. Tension thickened the air like a choking smog as Rarity stood just inside the entrance. She opened her mouth to speak, but the moment she did so, a rosen curl fell flat, startling her into silence. Like dominos falling in slow motion, the rest of her friend’s curls slowly began to unravel, falling about Pinkie’s shoulders in lifeless disarray. Rarity’s hopes for a painless reunion shattered like china dashed against granite as the very last remaining curl unwound, and she found herself unable to look away from the red-rimmed blue eyes of a mare that was left once more without the will to smile.
Ivory hooves remained motionless and limp, coated in the earthen color of the soil while a once brilliant white coat’s sheen had been overpowered by the dust. A mare, who could stroll into a high class dinner party and turn every eye, lay prone in the stillness of the night where she’d been tossed out like unwanted garbage; it wasn’t her pride that formed the rivulets streaming from her eyes, but sorrow that turned the parched ground to mud. Even as her indignation cried out in opposition, Rarity couldn’t even find the strength to be upset at the way she’d been driven from Pinkie’s home, because all she could remember was the sadness welling within her friend’s eyes, the scathing glares from her family whom she’d never had the pleasure of meeting, and the question that had followed after.
“‘Why are... you here?’ Why... why would you even... ask that, Pinkie?” Rarity whispered, whimpering as a cool breeze sent a shiver down her spine. “Isn’t it... obvious why I’m here? That I care? That I’m... worried for you?” Strength of will is not always translated into physical durability, and Rarity struggled to her hooves as another chilly wind bit into her oft pampered coat. I cannot stay here... I would likely wake under a pile of rubble if I tried their patience any further, and I doubt any of these caves are furnished... Turning her eyes towards the only visible road, the mare began trotting back to town, hoping that she would be able to find a place to stay.
Forcing her fatigued limbs to a brisk trot to fight the encroaching numbness already starting in her hooves, Rarity started back towards Dodge City. In the silence of the night, there was little for her to do save let her mind gnaw upon her dilemma, relentlessly pursuing an answer that simply didn’t exist. Straining to recall all the bizarre and seemingly random comments that had given her pause over the last few months, Rarity found herself so deeply ingrained in fruitless contemplation that she didn’t even notice her arrival to town until a very drunk pony was cast unceremoniously at her hooves, kicked from the local bar. Recoiling as a stream of gibberish preceded limp hooves grappling at her own, Rarity distanced herself from the stallion staggering to his hooves and took a look around.
“Inn... inn... aha! There we are!” she said weakly with what could almost be misconstrued as excitement. “Just a bed and a shower is all I need. Oh, a shower would be simply divine right now... Good thing I... didn’t... bring any extra... bits.” Slowing to a stop as she realized she had, in her haste, taken absolutely no extra funds, she felt the flames of frustration flare bright for but a moment before an utter lack of motivation snuffed them out. “Oh, what’s the use...” she groaned, sinking into a sitting position and hanging her head. The scent of something from the inn’s stoves caused a different kind of shivering as the mare’s stomach made known the depth of its emptiness, though with it came just a flicker of hope.
“That’s right; I’m not entirely alone in this town,” Rarity thought to herself, looking down the road and coaxing herself upright. Trudging down the road with her head held low, she tried not to think about how selfish it was of her to think of imposing on somepony that she had only just met that day, but with Vanilla Chai’s kindness still fresh in her mind and the pangs of hunger gnawing at her gut, Rarity reasoned that she could squelch down her pride for a time. “How could I have any pride at all, after that…” her thoughts reminded her. Gritting her teeth in stubborn defiance, even as the act of resisting tears deepened her guilt, the mare wandered obliviously through town until her nose was blasted by the heavy scent of herbs, even through the sniffles, whereupon she lifted her eyes to find a little slice of home amongst a foreign land.
More cottage than condo and wonderfully out of place amongst the comparatively primitive architecture that populated Dodge City, Vanilla Chai’s residence was inspiringly efficient while pleasantly quaint. Fields of fragrant flowers and herbs grew within a studiously maintained garden protected by a proper fence, missing nary a single plank, with a discretely sized shed emblazoned with the likeness of mint leaves nestled in the corner. While still quite clearly of Dodge City design, the rounded archway near the front door and presence of brighter colors gave the house itself a very Ponyville feel. Pausing as her hooves began to clack, Rarity glanced down at the cobblestone path leading to the doorway and, for a moment, found her spirits lifted. Raising her wearied hoof to knock, Rarity did her best to accept her lowly position while quietly hoping that she wasn’t overstepping the bounds of Dodge City decency. Fortunately, it was with a smile that the door was answered.
“You look like you could use some tea,” Chai offered, matching her guest’s weak smile. “Do come in, it’s rather chilly out.”
Following the mare’s beckoning hoof, Rarity complied with a nod, pausing to dust her hooves on the floor mat before taking stock of her surroundings. “Dodge City, you never cease to surprise me,” she thought with half-hearted enthusiasm. Vanilla Chai had welcomed her into a home that proved extravagance wasn’t synonymous with impressive, and simplicity meant far from drab. Muted colors, thoughtful arrangement, and tastefully subtle decor stoked the flames of inspiration, though given the proverbial raincloud hanging over her head, Rarity couldn’t fully appreciate the heat they sought to impart. Gratefully sinking an unexpectedly comfy love seat with a soft groan as directed by her host, Rarity allowed herself a few moments of relaxation before turning her attention back to Chai.
“I feel I must apologize for imposing upon you at such an inconvenient hour of the night...” Rarity lamented, her eyes sinking to the floor. “I… hadn’t accounted for the possibility that I wouldn’t be received, and have only enough money for the train back to Ponyville.”
“Do you mean to stay here, then?” Vanilla asked, frowning a little and sounding hesitant as she asked.
“I…” Rarity started, honestly terrified at the thought of being put out. With no money, no connections, and starkly aware of her position, she swallowed hard and nodded. “I understand that we have only just met, and that I certainly have no right to ask more favors of somepony that’s already been more than understanding, but I have nowhere else to go.” Her eyes fell towards the floor as she realized that she was quite literally wringing her hooves, and clutched them to her chest as she awaited an answer, unable to quite identify what it was that she was picking up on. There was something in the mare’s tone, subtle, but definitely there, that made her fear for her chances, and she heaved an audible sigh of relief as Chai granted her request.
“I would be delighted to have you,” she replied, though still somewhat unsteady. “You’re more than welcome to stay, though I… I’m not sure that you’ll want to.”
“Not want to?” Rarity repeated, aghast. “Why, I can’t think of a single reason why anypony wouldn’t want to spend the night here! Take this seat, for example: not a single stitch out of place, just the perfect amount of cushioning, and quite the fitting shade of peridot. In fact,” Rarity continued with fervor, “I can’t think of a single thing that I don’t like about your lovely home. Granted, it’s not quite what I’m used to, but even still, I would be more than grateful to stay the night here.”
“It wasn’t the decor that has me worried,” Chai offered, the faint blush rising in her cheeks speaking of her gratitude for the kind words. “It’s my brother. He’s a little… different than most.” Having expected to have her guest demand clarification, Chai was quite perplexed as Rarity, stricken by the irony of her host being worried over her “different” brother when she was close friends with Pinkie Pie, devolved into somewhat dignified giggles. “I suppose that you’ll be staying, then?”
“That is most correct,” Rarity confirmed, thankful for the excuse to laugh. “It would be positively absurd for me to deny such hospitality on the notion that your own brother might cause me some slight discomfort.”
“He might touch you.” Being decidedly single and still struggling with the labor of celibacy, it was little wonder that Rarity’s mind immediately translated the neutral statement into something else entirely before she could pull back on the reins.
“Touch… how?” she said slowly, doing her very best to appear dignified despite the searing heat rising in her cheeks.
“Nuzzles, I imagine,” Chai murmured, quietly amused with her guest’s behavior. “He’s a very physical sort, but not in the sense you may be thinking.” How Chai could manage to make so small a grin so extraordinarily teasing, Rarity couldn’t tell, and she felt her body temperature spike as she was fixed under the mare’s steady gaze. “Shall I call him down, or do you need a moment?”
“D-don’t be silly, I am fine,” Rarity huffed, though she couldn’t help but share in the mare’s amusement. It was her that was being silly, after all. “Please, do call him. I would love to meet your brother.”
“As you wish,” Chai conceded with a shrug. “Minty? We have a guest!” Every bit as strong as the pungent aroma of quadruple strength tea and palpable long before the stallion had arrived was the excitement that filled the air, and Rarity turned towards the hallway as the call was met with immediate action, namely the telltale thump of hooves hurriedly racing down the stairs. Apprehension soon found its throne toppled by anticipation as the rhythmic drum of hooves sounded closer, and what little remained of nervousness escaped as muted laughter as Rarity watched the manic colt scrabble for traction as he rounded the corner. Noting briefly in her mind that it was difficult to get a proper look at him while racing about, her innate curiosity for appearances was soon sated as he bolted over, hopped onto her chair, and plopped himself down on her lap as if such behavior was entirely normal for a grown stallion, albeit one quite young.
With her presentation in widescreen awaiting her critique and an infectious grin stretched ear to ear, Rarity let her eyes roam. There wasn’t anything particularly eye-catching about him at a glance, save perhaps the palette of his coat and hair. His mane, trimmed to a decent length and neatly parted down the center, was of untainted white with pink stripes throughout, reminiscent of peppermint. His coat was of a vivid blue, bright enough to be eye catching but muted enough to avoid being abrasive, though it was his shimmering citrine eyes were what truly made the colt remarkable. Peering without reservation through the looking glass into the heart, Rarity could see, or rather sense, the overwhelming depth of goodwill bottled within the pony whose tail wagged back and forth, brushing her hind legs with every swish. It reminded her very much of the light that once filled Pinkie to the brim, and so it was that she regarded the stranger in kind, with patience and acceptance.
“Well, aren’t you an energetic one!” Rarity tittered, astonished that she didn’t feel the slightest bit miffed over the colt’s lack of etiquette. “And why should I be upset?” she thought to herself as she matched the newcomer’s smile with her own. “How important are manners if the pony clearly means well?” Somewhat surprised with herself as the observation struck a chord within, she returned her attention back to her living lap-warmer with growing interest and continued her introduction. “My name is Rarity, and-” Distracted by her scent and unable to pay attention, Rarity halted her pleasantries as the stallion’s snout dipped to her mane and gave a few tentative sniffs before indulging an audibly deep draft. Feeling more bemused than offended as the tickle of the stallion’s nose brushed her neck, Rarity remained quiet while the invader of her personal space took a few more sniffs and then quickly pulled away, almost as if he’d caught a whiff of something pungent.
“You smell nice.” Prolific in its brevity and infected with borderline toxic levels of cheer, Rarity found herself unable to conjure her dignity and berate the stallion for his breach in personal boundaries. “Actually, and you’re free to check my math on this, but I’d actually say that you’re within juuust a few decimals of reaching ‘fantastic.’”
“It’s, err…” Rarity mumbled, unable to remember her usual cocktail of fragrances due to the rush of hormone’s muddling her thoughts. Either she was really, really desperate, or being intently sniffed was something she found strangely erotic: possibly both. “Probably both,” she concluded, coughing politely. “A f-few decimals, you say?” she began, absentmindedly twirling a few locks about with a hoof. “It’s the dirt, isn’t it?”
“A healthy smattering of dust is definitely worth a few points,” Minty chortled, pawing the mare’s chest for no reason in particular. “By my count, there’s lavender, rose petals, sandalwood soap, Dodge City dust, Ponyville dirt, unscented mascara, traces of clean linen, denim, velvet, silk, common yarn, cotton thread, and trace amounts of twenty three gratifying scents both organic and chemical. Hooowever,” he continued, his brow furrowing with intense concentration, “there’s something in there that I haven’t smelled before.”
“Something new, Minty?” Chai repeated with notable interest as her brother dipped his snout back in for seconds. While the stallion went rooting around, she and Rarity shared a mutual understanding look of equal parts acceptance and apology, and within a short while Minty ceased his investigation and shook his head.
“It is, it’s something new!” he exclaimed, clapping his hooves and thrusting his face so close to Rarity’s that her horn was actually poking his forehead. “You’ve brought me something new. You know what that means?”
“If I must be honest, I’ve not the faintest idea,” Rarity said unsteadily, trying her best not to recoil. Flashing the mare a wonderfully energetic grin before leaping to the floor, Minty leapt onto the coffee table and, whether by laudable dexterity or dumb luck, managed not to knock a single thing out of place, nor spill a single drop of tea from the cup that rested upon it.
“There’s something magical about smelling something for the very first time. Today, I discovered a new scent to track down, and that calls for a celebration!” he announced, standing tall with purpose etched into his every feature. “Sis, may I-”
“You may,” she answered, reading her brother’s intent with an approving nod. “Make it special; our guest has had a rough day.”
“Just leave everything to me!” Bounding like a fox through the winter snow, Minty cleared the furniture and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Rarity to recover while Chai hid her smile behind her mug of tea.
“You’d never be able to tell, but he does all the decorating,” Chai mentioned after a few minutes of silence, nabbing Rarity’s attention.
“Does he really?”
“Along with aromatherapy, gardening, puppet shows, and a myriad of other skills,” she explained, her gaze falling to her cup. “Minty is a stallion of two drives, one selfish, and one not. For himself, he scours Equestria seeking new scents to stimulate his senses, and for others, he gives freely of the energy that his passion supplies. Do not be mislead, I’m aware that his behavior is anything but normal, but what he lacks in etiquette, he makes up for in heart. Whereas I… I just brew tea." Being one who strove to capture the spotlight, Rarity could spot the feeling of being overshadowed from a mile away, and she wasn't having it: not with the mare that had been so kind to her.
“‘Just?’” Rarity parroted with obvious indignation. Having been expecting awkward silence, Chai leveled her gaze at her guest and perked her ears. “I’ve a friend who, quite like Minty, is a veritable jack of all trades who goes to great lengths, often ridiculously so, simply to get her friends to laugh. In fact, the town relies on her far more than she realizes. However,” Rarity continued, a touch more stern, “for her antics, she requires a great deal of things: balloons, streamers, cupcakes, rubber chickens… the list could go on.”
“I… don’t think I understand,” Chai stated flatly, showing no emotion.
“That’s likely because I haven’t finished,” Rarity said, tossing the demure mare a wink. “There is a pony back in Ponyville whose life is selling party supplies. He doesn’t throw the parties, he doesn’t make the little colts and fillies laugh, doesn’t get to see their eyes light up when they walk into a surprise party, but without him, such things wouldn’t happen at all. I…” Rarity paused, softening her tone, “sell dresses. It’s often stressful work, and the vast majority of my clients care little for anypony other than themselves, but must also be ponies who truly appreciate my work. Even if I never meet them myself, and never get to see how I’ve impacted them, that doesn’t change that even with something as simple as a dress, a life can be touched. That… is true generosity: giving of oneself even when one knows there will never be a tangible return.” Lifting her eyes, Rarity met Chai’s timid expression with a meek smile of her own, and brought her point back to where it needed to be.
“You may think that brewing tea is something mundane, something that anypony could do, and therefore makes you unspectacular, but you would be wrong to think like that. A warming brew can whisk away even the harshest of woes, if only for a few minutes. I’m certain that of the many ponies whom you’ve served, there have been many that have been touched by the love with which you go about your work, even if you cannot see it. After all,” she smiled, “had you not offered me a cup of tea, I would be homeless right now, and I’m grateful beyond words that we met.”
Where once there existed a mare whose range of outward emotion hardly seemed to shift, there sat a mare whose eyes brimmed with tears of thanksgiving. Meeting her halfway, Rarity welcomed Vanilla’s embrace and held her tight, unconcerned with the tears soaking her coat.
“Thank you,” Chai whispered between quiet sobs. “Thank you so much…”
“You’re quite welcome, dear,” Rarity soothed, sniffling herself. “If I’m to be entirely honest, as my dear friend Applejack would have me be, I must confess that I’m actually grateful that you greeted me not with something mellow or watered, but that shockingly potent tea.”
“R-really?” Chai stammered, doing her best to compose herself.
“Quite,” Rarity confirmed, showing the mare an encouraging grin. “I know that I haven’t shown it as strongly as I usually do, but I tend to hold myself as, well... a mare of class, shall we say.”
“A snob?”
“Yes, if we must put labels on things, a snob,” Rarity agreed with a teasing sigh. “Today has been one instance after another of things going wrong, and it’s quite difficult to hold your head higher than the rest after you’ve just sprayed tea all over another’s face.”
“So I would assume,” Chai replied with quiet giggle.
“So, after everything that happened today that’s left me unable to carry on as I usually would, I… feel like I’m starting to really begin to understand how far I’ve moved from the mare I once aspired to be...” Unwilling to bear the sadness of the one who had unwittingly told her what she had been longing to hear, Chai quietly reached over to her glass of tea resting on the end table and brought it to close to Rarity’s mouth. “Should I be worried?” Rarity asked with a weak smile.
“Mm mm,” Chai murmured, shaking her head. Nervous and quietly longing for approval, Vanilla watched earnestly as the mug was accepted within a pale blue aura, but the sigh that followed as the glass was brought to her guest’s lips dispelled her worries. “This may not mean much, coming from somepony that you’ve only just met, but I know you’ll become what you want to be. No matter how deep a diamond is buried, that doesn’t make it any less precious. You have a beautiful heart, Rarity. Even I can see that.”
“I… y-you really mean…” Rarity stammered, a familiar pressure rising behind her eyes. “Permission to bawl?” she squeaked, barely holding back. The open hooves revealed that holding back was unnecessary, and Chai couldn’t help but grin as she held Rarity close, even as veritable streams sprang from the mare’s eyes. Though she’d shed plenty of tears, there were few things as cleansing as a good, old-fashioned tantrum, and Rarity was thankful that Chai didn’t seem to mind.
“So much for class,” Chai murmured, chuckling softly as Rarity stuck out her tongue in response. “Come now, dry your eyes. Dinner should be ready soon, and Minty likes to lick tears.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Rarity laughed, pawing at her eyes before accepting the offered tissue. Having regained her composure and veritably famished, she eagerly followed after Chai, though she knew that she likely hadn’t shed the last of her tears that night. There were still matters of her heart that she could feel churning just beneath the surface, but for just a little while, they could wait while she enjoyed the unexpected generosity of her hosts.
Isolated from outside sources of mirth, the Pie residence found itself smothered under an uneasy silence. Pinkie Pie’s unprecedented outburst at Rarity’s presence and subsequent command that she be left alone had cowed everypony, even her immovable father Igneous, and if her sister’s were to be honest, they were as frightened as they were worried. More and more, it seemed as though the light-hearted pony they had cherished and loved were being suppressed by something that they couldn’t quite identify. It wasn’t that they feared that Pinkie Pie had somehow morphed into some malicious entity, no, it was obvious in the short time they’d spent undisturbed with her that the Pinkie they remembered was still there. The unmistakable anguish that had sounded in her voice when she confronted Rarity, however, had for a short time obfuscated the seemingly unwavering levity that had come to define who she was, and that, more than her harsh words, grieved her family.
“I’m really scared, sis,” Inkie whispered, glancing towards the doorway as if expecting Pinkie Pie to come breaking through at any moment. “I’ve never heard her yell like that before, not even when that boulder trapped her hoof. And her eyes-”
“I know, Inkie, I know,” Blinkie interjected softly, doing her best not to let on that she too was quite shaken. “It’s not like her to act like that, but she must have a reason,” she murmured, as much for her own comfort as her sibling’s. “Everypony gets angry sometimes, but I don’t think Pinkie Pie has really become a… um…”
“Grouch?” Inkie offered, her timid voice wavering.
“Right…” Blinkie said quietly, closing the distance between them and pulling her sister close. They both gave a start as a sniffle not their own sounded in the silence, and though they would have liked to welcome Pinkie, they couldn’t help but regard her with alarm as she stepped out of the shadows. “P-Pinkie? H-how long have you been-”
“I’m not…” Blinkie wouldn’t have imagined that she were even capable of adding guilt to the already extensive list of emotions held within her heart, but upon hearing the desperation laced within her sister’s hollow voice, she couldn’t help but cringe as nausea coiled within her stomach. “I’m… I’m not a grouch,” she pressed, her head bowed towards the ground as if to give the tears streaming from her eyes an easier means to soak the floor. “I just- I got scared, and I panicked, and… and I… I-” Having already begun moving towards the mare, Blinkie caught Pinkie as her strength gave way, grunting quietly as the full weight of her sister’s limp form brought them both to the floor. Bracing herself as the sudden weight toppled her backwards, Blinkie waited for the painful impact of her back slamming into the floor. Instead, she found herself propped against something warm and soft, and she quietly thanked Inkie with a smile for catching her before returning her focus to the one soaking her coat.
“Sis? We know you’re not a grouch.” Though anypony outside the family wouldn’t know it, when used among the sisters the term “grouch” was actually a much harsher term than one would think. It wasn’t something often raised in discussion, but each of the three sister’s had struggled to overcome and tame various aspects of who they were. For Inkie, ever the gentlest of the sisters, it was timidity. A walk through town, even with her family, filled her with terror for much of your youth, and it was only through constant encouragement that she found the strength to face her fears.
The reputation for being the refuge to which Inkie could run, however, something that Blinkie couldn’t claim to have always upheld. She couldn’t rightly say why it was that things frustrated her so, why even the simplest of nuisances made her blood boil, but for much of the time before Pinkie found her calling as one who thrives on spreading smiles, a good day for Blinkie was keeping from breaking something not meant to be broken. “Being a Blinkie” became synonymous for lashing out among the foals other foals at school, and for several painful years, she wore the name “grouch” like a crown of thorns that she felt powerless to remove. It wasn’t until Pinkie smiled for the very first time since their grandmother’s passing that Blinkie found the courage to confront the darker elements of her heart, and that Inkie thought she might someday find her shadow to be a little less scary.
“‘If she can smile when she feels sad, then maybe we can get better too.’ That’s what we said,” Blinkie recalled, looking over to find Inkie doing her very best to be brave. “And we did get better. We all did, and now it’s time to do the same for her.” Pinkie hadn’t ever been one to put much stock in words. Blinkie theorized that was the reason why comforting her proved so futile when they were children, but if they were to show Pinkie that she was loved, that she hadn’t driven them away, that she was truly not something so monstrous as to be branded a grouch, then they would have to show it through their actions in a manner she could comprehend - by bringing her a smile.
For anypony not privy to the convoluted laws of social contract, it might come as a surprise to find that something as physical as a hug and, under some circumstances even kisses, aren’t the most intimate gesture one can offer to another. Even ponies that have only just made each other’s acquaintance will often part with an embrace, and in some places a quick peck is nothing more than a greeting. So, if two sisters were seeking to show their kin that there existed an undeniable bond between themselves that remained unweathered by time and travesty, then it would only make sense that they show their love in a manner reserved only for those that are dearest to their hearts; something not to be wantonly given away or committed in public, however great the temptation might be to do so. Pinkie Pie was entirely unprepared for the way she was flipped onto her back, nor did she understand why Blinkie felt the need to pin her limbs spread eagle, but as Inkie dipped her snout towards an admittedly sensitive area, Pinkie had but a few fleeting moments to prepare her mind what her body was all too ready for. Inkie opened her mouth, Pinkie grabbed as much oxygen as her lungs could hold, they both closed their eyes… and then extremely rude noises sounded from her tummy.
Raspberries: there was no greater display of affection they could show. From the bottom floor, Igneous and his wife both smiled as the creaky timbers of their family home trembled under the the raucous laughter pouring down from above. Their daughter had most assuredly come home, and though they recognized that there were yet rocks in her journey, so too would there be gemstones. They weren’t the best with words, but with hooves clasped together and their heads resting lightly together, the two parents listened with welcome ears to the melody that surely even the stones could hear.
Author's Note
Hey guys, sorry this chapter took so long to get out - there were some last minute tweaks to Minty's character, which is still under construction, and I'm only just now settling into not having two jobs vying for my time. For you all, I have a question: Merry Mint, or Merrimint? Which looks better to you guys? Feel free to answer in the comments, or on my home page. Oh, and if there are any glaring blunders... I apologize.
Regardless of one’s social standing, temperament, occupation, training, or relationship to the mare known as Pinkie Pie, there are few more startling ways to regain consciousness than being catapulted from the bed. Being fast asleep and fairly exhausted after staying up half the night doing her best to help her dour sister in any way she could, Inkie hadn’t a moment of preparation before Pinkie bounded into her room and cannonballed onto the slumbering mare’s bed. It wasn’t until she had completed one and a half flips that Inkie realized that she awake, and it wasn’t until she landed that she came to terms with the fact that she had started her day airborne, though the delayed squeal of alarm that sounded full seconds after Inkie had landed confused Pinkie to no end.
“Wakey wakey!” the rambunctious party pony sang out, bounding circles around her poleaxed sibling. Disoriented from her unexpected and unintentional impersonation of an uncoordinated pegasus and unable to hear much over the pounding of her heart, Inkie could only manage to squint in the direction of her sister’s blurry image. Finding it difficult to discern whether Pinkie Pie was spinning on account of lingering dizziness or actually hopping circles around her, Inkie rubbled half-heartedly at her eyes and took a second look: it was both.
“Nnngh… P-Pinkie?” Inkie groaned, bewildered by the mare’s inexplicable reversion to her usual self.
“Pink-uh-mee-nah, that’s my name! And I think I’ve gone insane!” she chanted, plopping down next in a giggling heap next to Inkie. “What do you think, Inkie? On a scale of porpoise to chandelier, how chocolate do you think I am?”
“Wha…” Inkie had been lost well before porpoise, and it occurred to her that the only plausible course of action would be to accept the fact that Pinkie was making less sense than usual without dwelling too much on the details. Unfortunately, details were something that seemed to be sticking out at her that morning, and she couldn’t help but regard the perky sky-blue eyes directed her way with skeptical interest. “Well, um, she certainly seems to be feeling better than she was last night,” Inkie mused to herself, “but her hair is still all straight. It’s gotten really long, too…” In fact, the limp locks were practically serving as her blanket, and while it occurred to her somewhere in the back of her mind that she had been asked a question, Inkie quickly became distracted with the lengthy tendrils of pink hair draped around her hooves and hair. “I… u-um…”
“C’mon, sis,” Pinkie chortled, “you can tell me! I promise that no matter how loco in the coco you think I am, I won’t be upset. Unless you say ‘innertube,’ because there is no way I’m anywhere near that crass!” As much as she would have loved to deliver unto her sister an acceptable answer, Inkie couldn’t for the life of her understand a lick of Pinkie’s babble. Again, she wouldn’t have found such nonsense out of place were it not for the fact that she had spent much of the night attempting to coax a smile out of an utterly immovable frown, and with the remembrance of Pinkie crying herself to sleep the night before still fresh in her mind, Inkie was hard pressed to manage any coherent thought, let alone answer such a difficult inquiry. Fidgeting nervously as she watched her scattered thoughts dart about like dragonflies on a summer’s day, she let her eyes roam from her sister’s and hesitantly named the first thing that happened to leap out at her.
“...socks?” Pinkie’s eyes widened at this, and for a brief moment Inkie feared she had somehow mispoken, but whatever worries might have arisen were laid to rest as she was snatched into eager hooves and held close with undeniable affection.
“Awww, Inkie, you’re too sweet!” Pinkie cooed, nuzzling against her sister’s cheek before leaping upright. “Hey, that’s it!” she cried. “I should totally make you for breakfast!”
“W-wait, wha-”
“Sweet treats for everypony!” Having stated her intent with every intention of following through, Pinkie bolted from the room. Dazed and most assuredly confused, Inkie made no motion to sit up, choosing instead to listen to the rhythmic pounding of hurried hooves and startled exclamations of her less than energetic parents from the relative safety of her bed. Perking her ears as the sound of more measured hoofbeats sounded somepony’s approach, Inkie met her rather disheveled looking sister standing in the doorway with a sympathetic smile.
“Did, um… did Pinkie happen to you too?”
“Mmf,” came the less than enthusiastic reply. Having elaborated as much as was necessary, Blinkie trudged over to the bed and flopped down onto her belly, burying her face in the bedding and snorting as an extraordinarily long strand of pink hair attempted to infiltrate her nostril. “How can she possibly have this much energy after last night...” Blinkie mumbled, accepting the comforting pat of Inkie’s hoof with a muffled sigh: it was a well known fact among the Pie family that Blinkie was not a morning pony.
“She slept with you last night, right?” Inkie inquired, scooching closer.
“I don’t know how much sleeping either of us managed, but yes, she did,” Blinkie commented sullenly. “I couldn’t understand much of what she said, and I don’t think any of it was directed at me. She didn’t quiet down until early this morning.” They both paused as the distinct sound of a balloon blowing gratuitous raspberries grew louder before the brightly colored object shot through the door, hit the ceiling, and gave one last death rattle before plopping to the floor. “It’s going to be a long week…”
“Oh, come on, sis,” Inkie urged in encouraging tones. “I know that she’s acting a little strange right now, but it’s always been a lot of fun the few times she’s come back to visit. Besides, she’s already starting to feel better, and-”
“No, Inkie, she’s not.” Startled by the force behind her sister’s interjection, Inkie fell quiet as Blinkie slowly eased herself upright, her eyes trained on the balloon. “If she were feeling better, then she wouldn’t be showing off the way she is.”
“Showing off?” Inkie repeated, tilting her head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“Remember when she got her cutie mark?” Blinkie asked, knowing that none of them could ever forget that magical time. “She couldn’t stop smiling, making jokes, and laughing over anything and everything, even things that weren’t funny at all. Especially the things that weren’t funny…” Blinkie recalled, her frown disappearing for a brief moment. “Even though she had been so sad, seeing her that way just… felt right, like that’s who she was supposed to have been all along. But now, her smile, her laughter… it all feels fake.”
“Like one of Trixie’s shows?” Inkie offered, grinning hopefully as Blinkie scoffed.
“Just like one of Trixie’s shows,” Blinkie confirmed with a quiet chuckle, reaching over and pulling Inkie into a side hug. “If she’s hiding herself, even from us, then that means she’s probably afraid to let out how she really feels.”
“Well, that just means that we have to make her happy for real!” Inkie exclaimed, standing upright and stomping her hoof. “The laughter that she’s given us has kept us smiling through the good and the not good at all, and now it’s time for us to give it back to her! I don’t know how we’ll do it, but… but we’re gonna do it!” Though her appearance was one of meekness, Blinkie knew that there was little that could stand in Inkie’s way once she put her mind to something, and the determination burning within her eyes spread like wildfire between them both. They knew that their goal wasn’t one that would be easily reached, but they would have tackled a changeling army if it meant getting to see Pinkie smiling on the other side.
“Fortunately,” Blinkie thought as she collected the deflated balloon, “I have the best sister in Equestria to work with. After all, we shatter rocks for a living. How tough could it be to crack Pinkie?”
“Whaaaat’s cracking?!?”
“Bwah!” Yelping at the sudden intrusion that completely ruined their two-pony pep rally, Blinkie leapt back to find Pinkie standing in the doorway with an oafish grin stamped on her muzzle. “Pinkie, you- I, er… nothing’s cracking. Nope.”
“Are you sure?” Pinkie asked, adopting a contemplative look that Blinkie couldn’t find anything other than disconcerting.
“Heaven help us if she has learned to read minds- anymore than she already does, I mean,” Blinkie corrected herself, taking a breath. “You’re as unexpected as always, sis,” she chuckled. “Was there something you needed?”
“Uh huh! I need you!” she declared, gleefully booping Blinkie on the nose, “and you!” she added, paying Inkie in kind. “Breakfast is just about finished. Ma and Pa are already waiting at the table, and it just wouldn’t be the same without my two conniving sister’s that totally aren’t plotting well-meaning things behind my back.” Having ruled out the most absurd thing that could possibly be happening, Pinkie left the two mare’s in stunned silence as she cantered out the door and skipped down the steps. Though she wasn’t the first to speak, Inkie could only nod in agreement as Blinkie stated what they both beginning to realize more fully with every passing moment.
“This… is gonna be difficult.”
While certainly more pleasant than waking to the gruff shouts and grating clamor of city bustle, the groggy mare splayed out upon an unfamiliar couch found the melodious trill of birdsong rather disorienting. Rarity couldn’t remember ever having gone to sleep the night before, or even discussing her bedding arrangements with her host, but that didn’t make her any less comfortable. Yawning fitfully while the remnants of her food coma dispersed in scattered memories of utter indulgence, Rarity grinned as she sat up and stared at her gut, no longer distended and fortunately no visibly greater in girth after her meal.
“And what a meal it was!” she remarked whimsically to herself, running a hoof over the blanket draped around her. “Merrymint could headline his own gourmet restaurant with cooking skills like that. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had such exquisite cuisine! This blanket is quite soft, too.” Absentmindedly pawing at the fabric while taking a few moments to deduce what blend of materials had yielded such pleasant results, she let her mind wander hither and yon until it fixated upon a most tantalizing aroma coming from nearby. Smiling warmly as she glanced over to find a freshly brewed cup of tea resting on the end table beside the couch, Rarity decided that she could postpone asking about using the shower long enough to enjoy her cup.
“Oph-! Goodness…” she exclaimed quietly, pulling a face and staring at the contents of her mug. “While not quite as jarring as it was yesterday, this certainly isn’t something that I could just slurp down. Not like that tea she served after dinner, yesterday. Why, that was practically dessert! Still…” she thought with a smile as she raised her cup and accepted the bitter taste with far more grace, “I can’t imagine somepony as talented as Chai brewing my morning tea this strong by accident. She must have a reason.”
With nopony to engage in conversation and an unexpectedly calm morning, Rarity soon found herself reflecting upon the matter at hoof, that being the coaxing of Pinkie Pie into returning to Ponyville. As dearly as she would have loved to think that she’d be boarding the afternoon train bound for the place she knew they both considered home, she knew that it wasn’t going to be as simple as merely asking politely. For as long as she’d known the fun-loving bundle of smile-powered fluff, Rarity had never once seen her as undeniably angry as she had been the night before. Certainly, Pinkie hadn’t been very pleased with Applejack’s apparent transgression of her Pinkie Promise the last time they’d all visited Dodge, but even then, her behavior had never struck Rarity as particularly worrisome.
“But yesterday…” She found herself drawing an odd sense of comfort from the bitter taste filling her mouth as her hooves brought the glass to her lips, and she barely forestalled a shudder as intense floral notes seemed to sharpen her focus. “While I cannot say for sure, I do not think that I am to blame for her anger, at least not in full, but if not I, then who? Our friends- no, all of Ponyville cherishes the mare for the joy that she brings, so who could possibly think of doing her harm?”
“I just don’t understand, Pinkie,” Rarity whispered, peering through the tea at her murky reflection. Her makeup had smeared, her fake eyelashes likely wouldn’t hold through the day, and without the proper product, maintaining her trademark curls would be impossible. What still remained, however, was the pony underneath it all, and it was she that hardened her gaze in accordance with the determination filling her heart. “But I will. Even if you’re stubborn, more stubborn than you’ve ever been, I will find a way to bring you back to where you belong. I’ll bring you back even if I have to drag you all the way home, through forest, swamp, mud, and dirt! I’ll-”
“Wake your host with battle cries?” a demure voice interjected, causing no end of embarrassment on Rarity’s part. Vanilla Chai couldn’t help but show the slightest hint of a grin as her guest chuckled sheepishly, fidgeting uncomfortably over her lack of manners. “Don’t fret, Rarity, I’m quite used to being woken at any hour of the day; Minty’s clock doesn’t ever seem to wind down. Even when he sleeps, he’s always moving a little, or mumbling to himself… he’ll even sing, on occasion,” she finished with a grin.
“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest,” Rarity replied, grateful of Chai’s ever-present calm. “He really is a sweetheart, if a little overly affectionate.”
“Not used to being licked, hmmm?” Chai chuckled lightly, cracking a smirk as Rarity’s cheeks adopted a rosen hue. “In his defense, you did have quite the smudge on your cheek.”
“A tissue would have sufficed,” Rarity attested, though she couldn’t help but smile at the recollection. “Anyways, I am sorry for disturbing you with my shouting.”
“I wasn’t bothered,” Chai stated plainly. “As I said, I’m no stranger to ruckus, and if I may be honest, it sounds as though you have quite the trying day ahead of you.”
“One that would have started much more poorly were it not for your superb choice of tea,” Rarity returned, relishing the grateful smile being directed towards her. “You really have quite the knack, you know. Had you asked me what I would prefer, it would have been something light and sweet, not the bitter, bold brew that I found waiting for me when I awoke. And yet… somehow this tea seems like just the thing I needed.”
“I’m glad that it was pleasing to you,” came the charitable reply, though the stoic mare couldn’t stow her thankfulness for the praise. “When you’ve finished with your tea, you may use our shower if you would like. It’s just down the hall,” Chai continued, pointing towards the restroom. “I’ll see if I can have breakfast ready by the time you return.”
“Your hospitality continues to exceed my expectations in leaps and bounds, Ms. Chai,” Rarity swooned, causing notable consternation in her host. There was something about seeing the admittedly reserved mare light up that brought Rarity no small measure of enjoyment, though she hadn’t the time to really entertain the intricacies. Directing an admittedly flirtatious wink in Chai’s direction and trying not to think about how naturally the action seemed to come, she cantered off and began her shower in earnest.
Being mindful that she was using somepony else’s resources and not wishing to try her host’s patience, Rarity limited herself to a frugal thirty minutes of shower time before shutting off the flow. Arriving at the table after a mere half hour of time spent taming her mane, she cantered into the kitchen to find breakfast ready and Chai with an infuriatingly coy grin playing at her lips. Pretending to ignore the mare, Rarity walked over to the dining area with a leisurely stride, took her seat, and found herself unable to leave the challenge unanswered.
“...What?”
“I do believe you may have forgotten to leave some water for the fishes,” Chai answered calmly, meeting Rarity’s half-hearted glare with quiet amusement.
“I’ll have you know that I quite purposefully cut my time bathing short out of consideration for you,” Rarity retorted, feigning offense as she motioned to take a bite of her toast. “You should be thanking me, really.” Rather than resorting to words, Chai chose instead to simply smile as her guest took a large bite out of her toast and then pulled away, staring blankly a moment before looking back at her host.
“Cold?”
“Quite. How long ago did you make this?”
“Perhaps… fifty minutes ago?”
“Fif- why in Equestria would you begin making breakfast so early if you knew that I’d be showering?” Rarity questioned, honestly baffled by the calculating mare’s lack of foresight.
“Why, indeed,” she mused, finding it difficult not to laugh. “I do suppose it was silly of me to think that one would shower for the purpose of getting clean.”
“Alright then, missy,” Rarity snapped back, “how long do you typically spend in the shower, hmmm? One minute? Two, perhaps?”
“Five.”
Rarity could only stare, aghast. She had been purposefully sarcastic in her estimates, and couldn’t rightly fathom being in and out of the shower in such a short span of time. And, for all her practice smooth-talking her way up the social ladder, the only thing she could manage was, “...Really?”
“Yes.”
“A-and your mane?” the floundering fashionista asked, her head tilted to the side in confusion.
“About the same.”
“Really?” Nod. Rarity looked the mare over, noting how not a strand appeared to be out of place in either her mane or her tail, glanced at her own tail which was but a shadow of its usual glory, and then back at Chai, innocently sipping on her tea. “...I think I’m jealous now.” There were admittedly few times when Vanilla found herself so genuinely amused that she was able to let go and laugh, and Rarity couldn’t find it in her to be upset with the mare across from her, beaming bright. Giggling a little herself, Rarity returned her attention to her breakfast, feeling that, perhaps, she could tolerate cold toast another morning if it would again bring Chai the gift of laughter.
Following shortly after was the notion that she would gladly tolerate far worse inconveniences were it for the benefit of one with whom she had shared many a memory, both foul and fair. No longer concerned with the rather bland taste of unadorned and slightly soggy toast, Rarity cleared her mind of extraneous information and focused all her thoughts upon possible ways to combat Pinkie’s obvious displeasure. This proved difficult, however, as the suddenness of Pinkie’s shift in temperament, compounded with her usual inability to come right out and say what was on her really on her mind, left Rarity with more questions than answers. Thanking Chai and exchanging a few parting pleasantries, she stepped out into the expectedly warm and dusty streets of Dodge City and started towards the rock farm.
“All right, let’s see,” Rarity began in her head, paying little heed to the goings on of the townsfolk. “It’s been obvious for quite some time now that something has been bothering Pinkie. I’ve noticed it, our friends have noticed it, and every time we’ve attempted to talk to her about it, the question has been effectively, and literally too, I suppose, dodged.” Glancing out of habit at the sound of another’s raised voice, Rarity watched one pony greet another with a flying tackle and quietly prayed that she wouldn't be mistaken for somepony else along the way, lest the same fate befall her.
“While there’s much I don’t know, what I do believe is that she’s become quite lonely,” her mind continued where it had left off. “There is little reason she would have to take any kind of special interest in me or my work, and yet that is exactly what she has been pretending for months now. Having somepony around the boutique has been pleasant at times, I’ll admit, but there’s simply no reason that I can see why she would. She’s always been closer to Rainbow Dash than anypony else, though I suppose with Dash being in the Wonderbolts, she hasn’t had much time with her. Being pregnant hasn’t helped either, I’m sure.” Pausing her steady trot just in time to avoid being run down by a carriage, Rarity opened her mouth to shout something, thought better of it, and settled for discontented mumbling instead. Her mind, however, hadn’t dropped the subject, and in fact seemed to be driving her onwards.
“Come to think about it, she and Twilight had grown quite close as well before Cerulean came along, but now they hardly spend any time together at all…” Though she couldn’t place why, there was something about the thought that she found exceedingly worrying. Stitch by stitch, her mind worked diligently to thread together some framework for what was driving Pinkie to regard her with such bitterness, but while every step brought to mind another instance where her cheery friend had acted slightly estranged, the quilt that formed was still full of holes. Rarity could feel that the answer was laid out before her, that she had all the information necessary to understand Pinkie’s predicament, though as she left the city behind her and trod the dusty trail leading to Rambling Rock Ridge, leaving her more discouraged with each wearied step.
“I… can’t help but feel as though I’m failing her, even now,” Rarity thought with a dejected sigh. “It’s almost as though I’ve no excuse to have any questions, like I should know exactly what it is that she’s going through, but I just… can’t quite figure it out.” An uncomfortable crunch brought the mare slowly to a halt. She remained still for a time, staring at the ground that had gradually changed from a fine reddish dust to a bleak grey coated with jagged pebbles and stones of varying sizes.
“Whatever it is that I’m missing, it… must be something terrible if she would sacrifice a life surrounded by friends just to return to this…” Her head bowed slightly lower for just a moment before her eyes leveled with the horizon. “I cannot accept that this is where she wants to be. She belongs in Ponyville, with us, and it’s my responsibility to bring her back - for her own good as much as everypony else’s.”
Rallying her faltering resolve and leveling her gaze with the horizon, Rarity slowly panned around until her eyes came to rest on a trio of forms a good distance away. Though she only recognized the other two in passing from her brief visit to the rock farm the day before, there was with them a pony of brilliant pink that couldn’t have looked more out of place amongst the desolate downs. Maintaining her bravado grew increasingly difficult as Rarity neared, only to have all movement and chatter cease among the three sisters. Her heart sank as the grey one shrank away well before she had come close, hiding behind the other pony whose coat was of dusty lavender, and it with great strain that she continued to walk. When she did come to a stop, a few pony lengths from where the others stood, she found herself feeling as though she were wrapped in the ghastly glow of the limelight, alone on stage with an audience that had condemned her from the start.
“I…”
“Why are you here?” Stopped cold as the question was all but growled, Rarity fell silent as Pinkie’s question dealt her good intentions a stinging blow.
“That’s… twice now she’s asked me that,” Rarity recalled, scrambling to straighten her thoughts. “Well, you see… naturally, I’d…” Stammering seemed to be all the eloquence she could muster, but Pinkie Pie wasn’t making any effort to help or hinder her. She was waiting, something that Rarity found somehow more disconcerting than if she had made some jibe at her expense. Finally, Rarity managed to say, “I… came here to see you, Pinkie.”
“Hmph,” Pinkie snorted, “It’s always about looks with you, isn’t it? Well, if that’s all you came here for, then take a good look… and get out. ” Pointing her snout in the air in a manner that would put anypony from Canterlot to shame, Pinkie Pie made an about face and began sauntering away.
“P-Pinkie, wait!” Rarity cried out desperately. Her hoof lifted as if to give chase, but she found herself rooted in place, transfixed by Pinkie’s withering glare. “I… I want you to come b-”
“Back to Ponyville?” Pinkie finished, sneering back at the prissy pony quaking in her non-existent boots. “And why in Equestria would I do that, huh?”
“What… ‘why?’ I don’t…” Rarity stammered, completely at a loss. “What do you mean, ‘why?’ Pinkie, you love Ponyville!”
“Oh, do I , now?” Pinkie shot back, beginning to stalk a circle around the hapless mare. “Since you seem to know me sooo well, how about we play a little game, Rarity? After all, I’m sure you know how much I love games.”
“Pinkie, I-”
“What’s my favorite color?” she barked. There was nothing about anything happening that hinted at even the slightest shred of fun. Rarity knew she couldn’t stay quiet, but neither did she know for absolute certain that she knew the answer to something so fundamental, and her stomach lurched as she opened her mouth to speak.
“...Pink?”
“Wrong, ” Pinkie spat back, her scowl darkening. “What’s my favorite instrument?”
“Tam- no, the tuba, it’s-”
“Wrong! ” Pinkie shouted, her hoof falls becoming heavier with every incorrect answer.
“S-sis?” Pausing midstep and whirling at the sound, Pinkie looked over at the distraction to see Inkie cowering behind her sister. “Y-you’re being really s-scary…”
“Oh, there’s no need to be scared, silly!” Everypony, even her sister’s, felt their fur stand on end at the pleasantly cheerful tone of Pinkie’s voice. “I’m only all spooky when I’m dealing with ponies that claim they’re my friend when they actually don’t take the time to know me at all and only want me around because I know how to make them smile. That’s all! Don’t worry,” she chuckled, “you two are real friends. Unlike somepony, ” she glowered, peering behind her at the quivering mare. “Now then, where was I?”
“Pinkie, stop this! This… this isn’t you!” Rarity pleaded, shrinking back as Pinkie encircled her once more and resumed her march.
“Not me? And who are you to say what isn’t me, huh?” Pinkie muttered darkly. “There’s no reason I should listen to what you think you know of me if you don’t even know the me you think you know!”
“Pinkie Pie, that doesn’t-”
“Make any sense?” Pinkie preempted, suddenly thrusting her face close. Recoiling out of sheer reflex, Rarity fell onto her back in a cloud of dust, but the discomfort at having shale grinding into her coat couldn’t be compared to the disquiet in her heart as Pinkie looked down at her. “Isn’t that just sooo me, though? Not making sense?” Her question went unanswered. Rarity was beyond herself, her worry moving closer to panic faster than she dared to think. “Don’t go getting all shy on me now, Rarity. That’s not like you at all. Let’s keep playing, shall we? What’s my favorite place in the whole wide world?”
“I-I don’t…”
“Just guess,” Pinkie demanded. “After all, if you get just one of these questions right, the game is over and you’re free to go. Juuust one. So go ahead! I can’t wait to hear your answer.” There was nothing else Rarity could do save cede to Pinkie’s demands. After all, she was dealing with the mare that could predict coincidence and chase down Equestria’s fastest flier.
“T-the rock farm?”
“...Huh.” For just a moment, Rarity thought that she might have a glimmer of hope, but that moment proved ephemeral. “Close, but no pickle sandwich. Next! What kind of clothes do I like wearing?”
“Y-you actually like wearing-”
“Well, duh! It’s like you don’t even think I’m a mare,” Pinkie scoffed. “Lemme guess, you don’t know that one, either?”
“W-well…”
“You don’t? Oh, what a surprise!” Pinkie wailed dramatically, holding a hoof to her forehead. “Lucky for you, I just love surprises… right?”
“Wrong?”
“Wrong!” Pinkie shouted, pounding the ground with a hoof. “Wrong, wrong, wrong! That one should have been easy! It’s like you’re not even trying! Like… like I never really mattered at all...” For the first time since she had begun her tirade, Pinkie’s expression softened as the anguish within seeped to the surface, and it was at that moment that Blinkie’s doubt was banished; Pinkie Pie hadn’t changed. There was no danger for anyone present but herself, and her behavior was starting to take its toll. “Last… last question,” Pinkie Pie murmured in a hoarse whisper. “What… is most special to me?”
Struggling to steady herself, Rarity eased herself upright and looked upon the one who had moments before appeared to have been in the midst of a towering rage, but who now looked as ravaged as she felt. The pounding of her heart and churning of her stomach made it difficult to think, but the question posed was one that anypony who had spent any amount of time around Pinkie should be able to answer. “I…” Rarity began, her voice quavering. “‘I give a smile, I get a smile… and that’s so special to me.’”
“That’s… that’s what I thought, too,” she barely managed to choke out before averting her tear-stained muzzle. “But I… I was… wrong. ” The undeniable depth of sorrow contained within Pinkie’s parting words filled the disheveled wreck of a mare with enough urgency to shake how she had been being treated just moments before, at least in part. It stung, having a friend whom she’d only just recently begun to try and understand more fully suddenly lash out, but Rarity liked to believe she had more tenacity than the average mare, and if all she could do was stand, then that’s exactly what she was going to do.
“Pinkie Pie, wait,” Rarity said softly, struggling to rise to her hooves and failing the first time. “Pinkie, please, don’t walk away,” she begged, this time a little louder. Fighting tooth and hoof to wrench back control, she forced her drained body to her whim, shakily managing to stand. “Pinkie?”
“...Leave me alone, Rarity,” Pinkie whimpered, not bothering to turn around. “I can’t… I just can’t. ” Hearing a mare that always strained to help others believe in the silver lining sound so defeated was almost enough to drain the strength from Rarity’s hooves. Though one could hardly blame her under the circumstances, she couldn’t fully realize what was at stake. With every retreating step, Pinkie moving falling further from the pony that she had known herself to be.
Having not the faintest notion of what she could do to mend whatever had left Pinkie Pie in tatters but overtaken by the overwhelming urgency to act, regardless of the outcome, Rarity motioned to give chase. She hadn’t even made it a single step before something swept over and forcefully shoved her away, toppling her to the ground. When the dust settled and the dull throb in her chest had eased to a point she could open her eyes, she looked up to find Blinke barring her path with no small amount of fury kindled within her searing gaze. Remaining at a distance and speechless with fright, Inkie clasped her hooves over her ears and turned away; the old Blinkie was coming out, and if fortune favored that poor white unicorn at all, then she would be blessed to return home without any broken bones.
“L-leave…” Blinkie rasped out, barely able to speak for the anger that swirled within. “Leave… Pinkie… alone.” Rarity could feel her limbs snapping under the overpowering animosity scourging her being. “I don’t care who you are. You’ve brought Pinkie nothing but sadness both times you’ve been here, and I’ve… had… enough.”
“I… I o-only wanted to help,” Rarity sniveled, shrinking away.
“Take a look at what your ‘help’ has brought!” Inkie roared, the chains on her temper snapping one by one as her trembling hoof pointed towards towards Pinkie’s downcast form. “If you were actually trying to help, she’d let you; Pinkie knows when she’s reaching her limit, and she’s been pushed far beyond what any friend would ever allow to happen!” Stung by the accusation, Rarity looked towards Pinkie expecting a rebuttal, but her heart could only shatter further as the mare cast her gaze elsewhere, confirming Blinkie’s harsh words without a sound. “If you thought that coming out here would be able to reverse what’s been done, then you were wrong. Pinkie hasn’t been this upset since-”
“Don’t say it!” All activity ceased as Pinkie’s mournful cry echoed across the landscape. Straining to quell her wrath, Blinkie gritted her teeth and pulled back on the reins; she’d nearly broken her Pinkie Promise just then, and that would make her no better than the mare trembling at her hooves.
“I’m sorry, Pinkie, I wasn’t thinking clearly,” Blinkie said softly, motioning for Inkie to tend to Pinkie before turning back to find Rarity had managed to stand. “You’re not welcome here. It’s for Pinkie’s sake that I haven’t resorted to violence, but if you take even one more step towards her, I… I will end you.”
Were she asked how she were feeling at that moment, Rarity would have been entirely honest to answer that she couldn’t say. With her heart dashed to dust over the growing realization that she and the rest had failed Pinkie in a most fundamental way and her body barely able to keep her standing on account of her emotional exhaustion, the idea of taking any steps any direction seemed to her too dreary a task. And yet, there was a choice. What she decided then, at that very moment, would forever change the course of her life those of all the ponies present. Her eyes roamed from face to face, from terror, to fury, and to sorrow, before falling to find the image of her hooves swaying upon her vision. The whimper that came as she lifted her hoof was one born of acceptance for the consequences of the act she was about to take: consequences that she had believed she would be able to accept. It wasn’t until their paths had been irrevocably decided that she realized, yet again, that she was wrong.
Author's Note
"And lo, a great rift was torn between the elements, scattering harmony to the four winds and enshrouding all under a mantle of sorrow..."
When the last thing one can recall prior to passing out is collapsing amidst the dust of the barren plains, waking to find oneself sweltering under the soothing warmth of cotton sheets and double comforters could understandably breed no small measure of confusion. Disoriented and haggard, Rarity made no immediate effort to move upon regaining consciousness. Even if she had the desire, she doubted that she would have the strength to follow through; her extremities felt as though they were wrought of iron, and even though she may have the physical ability even to gallop, her will had been thoroughly shattered, and she had nopony to blame but herself. Unaware the she had been unconscious for several hours in the windswept plains between Dodge City and the rock farm, the resulting hunger and guilt-induced nausea both flared of one accord as her memories began to trickle back, and it was only because her stomach was empty that she refrained from vomiting on the spot.
“That look in her eyes…” Weakly shaking her head as if to ward away the memory, Rarity forced herself upright with undue exertion, and there sat staring at her hooves. They had walked away when she knew she needed to stay, and to press forward, but when the time had come for her mettle to be tested, her heart had shown itself to be weaker than her intentions. “What… what kind of pony am I, truly?” she wondered, shutting out the world behind closed eyes. “I thought that I was better than this, that my friends meant more to me than all the fame of Canterlot, but if that were true, then… why?” Her eyes opened, mere slits as she she glared seething at the hooves that had betrayed her.
“Don’t you know what you’ve done?” she growled at them, her voice sounding to her as little more than a hoarse whisper. Her rational side hadn’t actually expected an answer, but in the absence of any sign of remorse from that which had ruined one of her long-standing friendships with somepony that was an undeniable pillar in the Ponyville community, Rarity began to tremble as the weight of her ill-fated decision boiled over into pain-laden rage. “Well, do you?” she barked, the sharp tone carrying with it the sting of accusation. “All you had to do was step forward! Just one little step, was that so much to ask?!” Slowly did she raise her hooves, peering at them expectantly as she waited for an explanation that she knew wouldn’t be found in the dusty limbs held before her face, but she wanted somepony to blame, and her hooves, dirty and unbeautiful, had been the instrument of her betrayal.
“Answer me!” she bellowed, bearing her teeth in feral rage. “Why the hell wouldn’t you listen to me?! You’ve gone and ruined everything- EVERYTHING! You’re worthless, you useless, unsightly pieces of-” The remainder of what she had intentioned to say caught in her throat as she peered between her hooves at something on the other side. Parting them slowly, she found herself staring into a cheval glass across the way, and the reflection that she was shown was anything but pretty. One by one, her eyes roamed from one imperfection to the next, from her unkempt mane to her soil-encrusted coat, and for a moment, her gaze dropped and her tone fell to a deathly hush.
“Don’t… don’t you lie to me…” Her eyes open, but the sight remained the same. “Don’t you bucking lie to me! ” she howled, leaping from the bed and immediately crumpling to the floor as her body found itself unprepared for her erratic actions. Ignoring the myriad of aches and pains that lanced through her as she struggled to her hooves, Rarity dragged herself over to the mirror and lifted her head high in aberrant pride. “You tell me I’m beautiful,” she growled, her psyche seeming to fray with every word that tore from her throat. “You tell me I’m beautiful, damn you! Tell me the truth!”
“Oh, but I am, Rarity...” A seamstress couldn’t be expected to know just how powerful the mind can be. Overcome with emotion in her exhausted delirium with her mind and heart torn by what had transpired mere hours prior, Rarity choked back her tirade as the form being reflected began to distort until it was no longer herself that was reflected; it was Pinkie.
“P-Pinkie?” Rarity stammered out. “What’re you-”
“Hmph!” the apparition interrupted, “Isn’t that just like you! Getting upset when things don’t go exactly your way.”
“N-Now see here-”
“Nonono, -you- see here!” Pinkie’s image snapped back, taking a menacing step forward. “You asked me to show you the truth, which I totally already was, and all you did was ask for more, so you know what? Fine! I won’t just show you the truth, I’ll tell it to you! Isn’t that just sooo -nice- of me?”
“Quite,” Rarity said curtly. “It’s about time you had something pleasant to say. Well, don’t dilly dally! I’m waiting.” There was nothing pleasant about the mocking sneer that twisted the reflection’s features.
“You’re hideous.” Slowly did one ivory jaw reach for the floor, weighed down by the sheer cruelty of what she had heard. “Take a look at yourself!” Pinkie’s image commanded, motioning towards the mare. “Tell me one thing about yourself that’s anywhere even -close- to pretty! I dare you.”
“I am simply in need of a shower!” Rarity snapped back. “You and I both know that when it comes to fashion, I am the queen! None of our friends couldn’t even come close to having as refined taste as I have! Why-”
“That’s because they don’t -care- about stupid stuff that doesn’t matter!” the apparition snapped back, taking another step forward. “Twilight, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and even Fluttershy, have all found something that’s more important to them than a few rare books or another medal.” There was a lull as Rarity just stared back, unmoved and clearly waiting for her reflection to say something that carried the slightest hint of meaning. “...well, it looks like -somepony- just isn’t going to budge! Alright then, you asked for it! If you won’t show me anything beautiful, then I’ll just have to dig for it!”
For the first time during her conversation with her reflection, something happened that was enough to pierce through the rage, through the delirium, and into the mare’s heart. Rarity stood transfixed as the rosen hoof of the pony in the mirror shot out, plunging into her chest. After a few moments of sorting around, the apparition’s hoof withdrew, and it was most assuredly not empty-hooved. Thick black slime not unlike tar coated whatever it was that had been drawn from Rarity’s chest, and the mare couldn’t help but shudder at how overtly disgusting the sight was.
“What in Celestia’s name is that… that atrocity?”
“Oh, this little thing?” it said dismissively, holding it aloft. “I don’t know, it was inside you, so why don’t you tell me, Rarity?”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere near something so filthy! Ugh, the very thought makes me faint.”
“Well, -that- sure explains a lot…” Just as Pinkie had unexpectedly shifted from angry to sullen, so too did the apparition as it cradled the oozing mass to its chest. “You’d wash your mane, and spend an hour cleaning your hooves, but you wouldn’t take the time to spare even a drop of water... for your heart.” Reaching outside what the mirror could reflect, Pinkie’s image grabbed a pitcher of water and began pouring it over what she held. Slow to respond at first, the gunk continued clinging tightly to whatever it had coated, but under a steady stream it slowly began melt away until Pinkie was left holding a shimmering diamond in the shape of a heart.
“You were beautiful once,” the reflection explained, letting the diamond catch the light. “You could be again, you know, if you tried. But as of right now,” it paused, its expression growing dire once more as it thrust the jewel back where it had come from. When the pink hoof drew away, it was again coated in muck. “...you’re filthy.”
“No…” The reflection cast its defeated gaze towards the ground as it watched Rarity shake her head in denial of what she had seen. “There’s no way that something so filthy could be inside me! I… I’m beautiful! Tell me I’m beautiful!”
“We were, once…” the apparition remarked as it turned away, “but not anymore. Not anymore…”
“No, wait, come back!” Rarity called after Pinkie’s visage as it began to fade, continuing to plod away. “You… you can’t just leave!” Her words fell upon deaf ears as her reflection continued to diminish, and Rarity once again found herself overcome with wrath. “I said… come… back! ” she shouted, driving her hoof through the glass. Pain shot through her hoof as the cheval glass shattered under the force of the blow, the frame cracking and falling against the wall as fragments of glass rained down around her hooves. Withdrawing her injured limb she held it up to her eyes and choked back a sob as the same black tar that had coated her heart seeped from the open wound. A sickly sensation around the rest of her caused her to look down, where a growing puddle was pooling as each step she took left her with glass biting into her flesh.
“No, this isn’t right!” she exclaimed, frantically trying to rub the muck away but only succeeding in tainting more of her coat. “I’m a strong, beautiful pony that… that…” Her hooves began to shake as she watched the white of her coat disappear. Her vision began to cloud as her eyes filled with tears as black as that which now covered her entire body, and with one last cry of denial, she lifted her head and shouted, “I’m supposed to be beautiful!”
After having laid prone for some time, the Princess of the Night stirred into wakefulness. Urgency prompted her to movement, and she rose with all haste, sweeping from her chambers and making straight for those of her sister. Dismissing the guards with a swift flick of her snout, the mare took a few breaths to steady herself and knocked thrice upon the door.
“Do come in, Luna,” came Celestia’s soothingly calm greeting, beckoning her sister inside as she nudged open the door. “It sounds as though you bring urgent news.”
“Does my knock really convey so much?” Luna asked, managing a half-hearted smile as she entered.
“If not your knock, then surely your furrowed brow would give it away,” Celestia replied with an encouraging chuckle.
“Sister, this… really is no laughing matter.” Growing solemn at her sister’s chiding, Celestia stowed her mirth as her eyes fell to the floor.
“I had hope that they might all avoid this,” she murmured with a heavy heart. “So, the Elements have been split even further apart?”
“I am afraid so,” Luna confirmed, shaking her head. “I would not say that their chances of reparation being made are impossible, nor that the growing chasm between Generosity and Laughter cannot be bridged, but that it will take a small miracle to reach either of them. Their hearts have grown quite distant, and they from their hearts.”
“Confronting what one has allowed into their heart can be one of the hardest things a pony may ever have to face.”
“I, of all ponies, know of what you speak,” came Luna’s somber agreement. “Hardness of heart isn’t always softened with time, and I fear that the strength of spirit that Rarity has always possessed will be her undoing. I visited her just a few minutes ago as she slept, and she proved that even for Pinkie, one of her dear friends, she is unwilling to accept that she has ceased to be herself. Her alignment with her Element is fading, and I don’t know if there’s anything that can be done by her friends...”
“If not her friend, then perhaps a stranger…” Luna perked her ears, looking attentively at Celestia whose expression conveyed both her calm and her concern. “Sometimes, it is more meaningful to hear something from the mouth of a stranger rather than that of your friends. If the rest of the Elements cannot reach them, then it will fall on the shoulders of those that they meet to show them the way.”
“I won’t pretend I’m not skeptical,” Luna said, vaguely agitated. “It does not sit right with me to entrust the fate of Equestria into the hooves of chance.”
“Have a little faith, Luna,” Celestia exhorted her sibling, drawing her close with a wing. “Though the Elements made their choices for a reason, that doesn’t mean that there aren’t other ponies around that aren’t equally special. I do not believe that Rarity has become so lost that she cannot be found.”
“And what of the laughing one with the scary costumes?” Luna asked, not entirely convinced. “She has all but forsaken any kind of mirth. Do you really believe that the efforts of some random pony that happens to cross their path will somehow restore her to harmony?”
“You make it sound as if that would be the strangest thing to happen here in Equestria,” Celestia chuckled, nuzzling Luna between the ears. “Those that have fallen the farthest from Harmony are the very same in whom it may shine the brightest. It is a harrowing road for some to find the light, but they suffer the trials that they may keep others from having to do the same. Rarity and Pinkie are both very different ponies, but their heart are not so different from one another. I cannot say how, but I do believe that they will find their light again, and that the struggles they face, and the rest of the Elements as well, will lead to a brighter future for all of Equestria.”
“I only hope that you are right, dear sister…”
“I hope so too, Luna… I truly do.”
Considering how disconcerting a dream had just passed, it was with undue calm that Rarity awoke. Making neither moan nor whimper, the mare eased herself upright and looked around. From the color of the carpet to the partially open drapes, and even the cheval glass across the way, the room where she woke was exactly the same as where she had found herself in the throes of her nightmare, though upon waking, she recognized that she was back in Chai’s guest room where she had stayed the night before. Her heart rate was still elevated, and the lingering remnants of panic still murmured in the back of her head, but for reasons she couldn’t hope to understand, she found herself irregularly calm as she slid from the bed, took a few moments to gain her balance, and then slowly made her way across the room.
She stopped just shy of the mirror, taking a seat before it and looking intently upon her reflection. Contrary to what she seen, her mane showed signs of having been recently brushed, and a tentative sniff yielded the faint scent of lilac and lavender. Her coat had been scrubbed clean, and only a few stray grains of sand lodged in her hooves remained to remind her of her blind flight from the rock farm. Having not the strength to stand against Blinkie and convinced that she had decimated any bond that may have remained tethered between Pinkie and herself, she had run blindly into the sparsely vegetated plains the stretched for miles. The throbbing throughout her limbs that she hadn’t noticed until the memory returned confirmed her suspicion that she had likely run until her body couldn’t sustain the act, and somepony had found her and brought her back. That notion brought her little comfort, and she dismissed it as she leveled her gaze at the mirror and looked herself in the eyes.
“... You’re lying,” the mare whispered, dropping her gaze. “You’ve got it wrong. I’m not that clean.” There was no warning preceding the violent blow that she dealt the glass, driving her hoof though the mirror and into the wall behind it. Only able to do that for which it was created, the fragments that littered the ground continued to reflect the fractured image presented them, and it was with quiet confusion that Rarity regarded the trickles of red coursing down her hoof. “It isn’t… black?” she said softly, her hoof beginning to tremble. “But… I don’t…”
“Um, hello in there?” Startled by the voice and still attempting to separate hallucination from reality, Rarity snapped her head towards the door and stared, unable to ignore the sensation of blood trailing down her foreleg. “I’m not quiiite as much an expert on hearing as I am in smelling, but that almost sounded like you accidentally put your hoof through a mirror. But that would be silly,” the voice declared as the door was nudged open. Not having expected his wild hypothesis to hit home, Merry Mint went quiet as he entered, looked at Rarity, saw the blood, and bolted out of the room making extremely authentic sounding siren noises. There was, however, little time for Rarity to collect herself, as the nearing sound of sirens indicated the stallion’s swift return with a tidy little sewing kit and gauze.
“I knew that mean ol’ mirror could be ill-tempered, but don’t you think you might have gone just a teeny bit overboard?” Minty asked as he began tending to Rarity’s wounded limb with care and expertise.
“... Perhaps.” It was all that she could manage to offer the stallion. She had no real excuse for what she’d done, and the sting of disinfectant served to further clarify that she was back in the reality she didn’t want to face. “How did I get here?”
“Wull, thath a thlly qushn,” Minty mumbled around the needle, fortunately finishing the stitch work in a timely manner before continuing. “I could smell how bitter Chai had brewed your tea this morning. She only does that when she know somepony has something difficult ahead of them, and when you didn’t return after a few hours, she began to worry and sent me to go find you.”
“How did you manage that?” Rarity asked reflexively. “Wasn’t I rather out of the way?”
“Oh, you sure put some distance away from wherever you ran from, that’s for sure,” Minty agreed cheerily, beginning to wrap her hoof with gauze. “All I had to do was follow your scent into the middle of nowhere, carrying you back to the land of somewhere, and then let Chai wash you everywhere!”
“Every…”
“There are some places a stallion’s nose doesn’t belong.” It was spoken with such matter-of-fact bluntness that Rarity almost, almost cracked a smile. “Now, if you’re done inexplicably destructifying dangerous furniture, my sis would like to chat with you. She was really weally worried about her guest disappearing, and bringing you back all burnt and blustered didn’t quiiite help.”
“That makes sense,” Rarity conceded with decided neutrality. Given her temperament, she didn’t feel particularly inclined to entertain anyone with polite conversation, but by that same token, she already owed Chai a significant debt of gratitude, though what prompted her to stand wasn’t her sense of decency, but rather listlessness. She had no reason to stay put, no reason to stay in Dodge for that matter, and if at any point during her conversation with Chai, she could just burn yet another bridge and walk away; it seemed to be something she was getting good at. “Kitchen or living room?”
“Living room, big couch, can’t miss it!” Minty explained, wagging his tail. “Would you like help out?”
“I’m perfectly capable of-”
“Sounds good!” he interjected, sliding under the mare and lifting her onto his back with fluid movements. Again, too disinterested to put up much of a fight, Rarity said nothing as she was carted into the living room and deposited on the seat opposite that of Chai, who sat sipping on her tea with her expression ever consistently blank. “One express delivery of a pretty pony! That’ll be two cookies and a crumpet, miss.” Snagging the payment from a plate on the coffee table, Minty meandered away with all three of said items stored safely in pooched cheeks. Rarity watched with vacant eyes as the stallion traipsed off before slumping back into her chair, paying her host, who watched with ever mounting concern, with not even a passing glance.
“She’s fading fast,” Chai thought to herself, finding it difficult to mask her anxiety. “I’ve spent too much time listening and watching other ponies not to have known that her situation was more dire than she let on, but this…” Vanilla lifted her gaze from the tendrils of steam rising from her cup and looked upon the dispirited pony across from her. “She’s on the brink of giving up. On what, I can’t be certain, but it must be something of great importance. This kind of apathy only comes when a pony’s heart has been broken, or is on the verge of doing so…” Taking a long, deep draft to steel her nerves and shuddering as the potent brew sharpened her senses, Chai laid the cup aside, stowed her hooves in her lap, and looked out at the face of dejection.
“... Rarity?” she asked, her voice coming out softer than she had intentioned. Vanilla watched intently, attentive to even the smallest of movements or sounds, but Rarity might as well have been comatose for all the response calling her name had garnered. She didn’t bat an eye, didn’t shift a hoof, or even change the measure of her breaths. “Rarity?” Chai tried again after a time. Though she still didn’t lift her eyes, the slight twitch of the mare’s ears proved that Rarity could hear, but not whether Chai should continue or not; the mare didn’t seem particularly open to conversation. Vanilla knew that it was possible that attempting to do much of anything might only worsen a victim’s temperament, but if there was any chance that Rarity could be pulled from the brink before the final tear tore her heart asunder, then it was worth risking her guest’s ire.
“How do I confront this, though, that’s the question...” There was no question that whatever had happened, the wounds were still as fresh as those on Rarity’s hoof, and without any point of reference with which to start, Chai decided that the hoof would likely be the least painful way to start. “Would it… be correct to assume that you took issue with your room’s decor?” Violet eyes were slowly leveled in her direction, conveying vague annoyance and confusion with the statement. “You weren’t injured when Minty brought you here, and I recall hearing a crash not minutes ago, so I can only assume that you… ‘fixed’ whatever it was that you found distasteful?”
“...Your mirror could be in better condition.”
“I… see.” It wasn’t much for Chai to go on. As much as she would have liked to count it a victory that her guest was still willing to speak with her, the mare’s droll tone effectively dammed any comfort that could have been taken from that observation. “It’s… whatever has transpired is none of my business. I am, after all, merely some mare that she happened to make acquaintance with, but…” It didn’t sit right with Vanilla, ignoring her guest’s condition for the sake of social boundaries, but neither could she make any headway without probing. Her contemplation was interrupted by the sound of hooves clacking on the floorboards, and she looked up as Rarity stood.
“I should be going,” she stated flatly. “I’m sorry about your mirror.” Whether the dismissive mare realized it or not, Rarity’s words had brought more comfort and reassurance to Chai’s mind than she realized, and the thought of letting Rarity leave in such a fashion caused Vanilla’s stomach to lurch with every step.
“I know that I’ve no business butting in, but I can’t just-” “Wait!” The word had tore from her throat before her better judgement had time to call it into question, and Rarity halted just shy of the door. Her head slowly turned, casting listless eyes over her shoulder, and Chai swallowed hard as she too rose to her hooves. “What… what happened?”
“That’s none of your business,” Rarity growled after only a short pause, her expression rapidly darkening.
“B-but-”
“No, there is no ‘but’ here!” Rarity interjected, turning fully and glaring down her nose. “I do not wish to talk about, and that… is… final. ” Reasoning that a timid mare like Chai wouldn’t even think of pressing the matter, Rarity turned once more towards the door, but the mare’s thoughts came to a halt as her injured hoof fell heavily upon the handle.
“Why did you come here?” Three times. Three times had Rarity been asked that damned question, one that she even still couldn’t manage to find an answer to, and it stung worse than the wounds on her hoof, even as they slowly soaked the bandages in response to her hoof slamming into the door frame. Recoiling as she watched cracks race from the point of impact in all directions, Chai shrank away from the mare whose once desirous features twisted into a feral snarl, and the full depth of her guest’s frustration came pouring from the wounds she held within.
“I don’t know why the hell I came here, alright?!” she bellowed, ignoring the pain racing through her foreleg as she brought it down hard. “I put up with months of that pathetic mare’s incessant prattle because I thought that I was her friend, that I held some meaning to her, but that clearly isn’t the case! I came out here to the damned mud hole because I wanted to help! I tried time and time again to reach her, and I was the one turned away! Me! I was the one that wasn’t good enough for her?” Fighting to remain focused, Chai swallowed hard and tried to ignore the tears welling behind her eyes as she sought to draw meaning from the tirade. Trembling as she braced for the tirade to continue, the mare bowed her head and looked back through blurry eyes, intent on weathering the storm for however long it might take for her to understand.
“In all my years, I have never met somebody so utterly ridiculous, so positively foolish that they would think to turn their back on my friendship!” Rarity continued to rant, so loudly in fact that the reverberations could be felt in the floorboards. “Oh, rest assured, it wasn’t just me that she turned her back on, either, but I was the one who spent the most time with her. My friends just couldn’t be bothered to keep that scatterbrain occupied long enough for me to work in peace, could they? Oh, no, I took it upon myself! And this is how she repays me? ”
“H-How does she f-feel?” Slowly lifting her head as the question caused Rarity to fall silent, Chai stood tall in her frailty and faced the beast.
“Her? H-Her?!” Rarity sputtered with rage. “After all that has happened to me, the very first thing that pops into your mind is to ask about her? Oh, isn’t that just bucking grand! I’ll have you know that I haven’t the faintest idea what could possibly be going through her mind,” Rarity belted out as she stalked straight up to Chai and leaned close, seething, “and I’ll have you know that I don’t even care anymore!”
“Th-that’s a lie.” Wroth beyond words, Rarity’s mouth hung agape in sheer disbelief of Chai’s audacity. “Y-you k-” Chai faltered, choking back a quiet sob. “...you know full well what’s wrong here.”
“Oh, do I? ” Rarity slowly replied in a mocking tone. “Well, aren’t you ever so clever! Go ahead, then! Enlighten me. Tell me what it is that I- ”
“There.” Chai shuddered. Rarity bristled.
“What? I h-”
“And there.”
“How dare you interrupt like that! It’s incredibly rude, and I won’t stand for it!” Rarity bellowed. “Now stop playing these silly games and tell me plainly what’s wrong!”
Many years had passed since Chai had been subjected to the staunch sensation of sorrow twisting her stomach into knots, and it was only with strained effort that she managed to remain standing at all as memories long since buried filtered in like poison in the bloodstream. Desperation welled within her heart as Rarity grew tired of waiting for an answer, and it was at the sound of but a single fateful word, one letter, that Chai did the only thing she could think of to wrest Rarity from the grips of her own misguided anger. As Rarity once more began to speak with herself as the subject, another “I,” Vanilla yanked hard to dislodge one of her frozen forelegs, brought it back, and silenced the mare with a thunderous slap to the face.
The room went deathly quiet.
“L-Listen to yourself,” Chai whispered, whimpering as she withdrew her throbbing limb and cradled it to her chest. “Everything that you just said, it… everything was about you. ‘I’ this and ‘I’ that, even as you’re talking about a friend of yours that sounds like she’s having a really hard time. How- why would anypony take comfort in somepony so self-absorbed? Somepony that can take another’s sadness and make it about them?” Chai fell into a sitting position as the strain sapped what little remained of her strength as tears began their slow trickle towards the ground. “...You’re not here for her, Rarity. You’re here for you.”
Though the words should have stung like the alcohol that had cleansed her foreleg, there followed only stillness in Rarity’s heart. Her bandaged hoof slowly rose to her throbbing cheek, measuring the beats of a heart wrapped in an unexpected calm. For the first time that she could clearly remember since Ponyville had begun to shift, the clarity of mind and purpose that she had kept dear to herself returned, the quiet whisper of the pony she used to be lifted its voice one more. There weren’t any walls to damper the sound, nor noisome interference to draw her attention away, and it was with meekness that she began to understand the painful truth in Chai’s words.
Well before she or any of her friends had noticed the shift in Pinkie’s behavior, something had triggered a change within her own heart, one that ran counter to the core principles by which she proudly sought to display. Where once she had stood resolute in who she was, a mare that sought to counter the harshness of the world with giving while holding herself to a high standard of honor and purity, Rarity dropped her gaze in contrite acknowledgement of how far she had strayed. And there, in the deepest recesses of her heart, she found the virulent poison that had tainted her thoughts, corroded her heart, and transformed her into somepony that couldn’t even bear her own reflection: jealousy.
From the moment that Twilight had found somepony that accepted her in her quirks and loved her all the same, the seeds of discontent had been sown. Romance had been something that Rarity had fantasized about since long before any of her friends, spending hours dreaming of the perfect stallion that would sweep her off her hooves and carry her into the mystical happily ever after… and yet it was the modest shut-in that had found love first? Rarity cringed at the bitterness of the thought, one that had visited her more often than she would ever care to admit. She had watched as many of her friends found and fought for what she had long sought after herself, but the thanksgiving she had displayed for them become more and more of a front to hide the envy that slowly strangled her heart.
Unwilling to genuinely confront the problem and yet feebly trying to uphold some semblance of duty, she tricked herself into thinking that it would be best that she withdraw from her friends so as to not burden them with her sorrows, but that only allowed them to grow without interruption. With every “urgent” order that called her away from her friends, with every bottle of wine that she knocked back to forget, the following morning would invariably come, leaving her more empty than the day before. It was true, she remembered, that Twilight had attempted to reach out, but how could Rarity accept comfort from the one that had betrayed her?
“No, that isn’t right,” she told herself, stamping out the thought. “She wanted to help, but I… didn’t want help from her… or any of my friends. I wanted what I wanted, for somepony to come and whisk me away from all my troubles, and that’s all that I could think about…” Too stubborn to let her friends in because they were clearly where the problem lay, Rarity had allowed her heart to grow hard and continued to withdraw, burying herself in fashion even while unable to enjoy the success that she found. It was then that Pinkie had begun poking around the Boutique, and with her desperation growing equal to her resentment of her friends that had coupled, Rarity turned to the one friend who hadn’t also spurned her kindness and flaunted their happily ever after.
“No, that isn’t right, either…” she chastised herself. “They’ve done nothing wrong, and Pinkie…” Rarity’s gaze fell further as even thinking the name brought with it a torrent of emotion. Where once Rarity had largely found Pinkie’s shenanigans amusing, the weight that she carried had more and more led to annoyance with the mare rather than laughter. When she had first started coming by the boutique, Rarity found it an almost insurmountable task to keep her temper in check. Over time, however, desperation overrode her desire for a tidy shop, and Rarity’s perception of the mare shifted from that of an invasive jester to an easily manipulated mare who, more often than not, would do just about anything she was asked.
“There was nothing friendly about the way I treated her,” Rarity realized, grieved by the thought. “I was short-tempered, made her do chores for the sake of exerting authority… and only saw her as a means to an end…” Her thoughts drifted back to the morning when Pinkie had snapped. Had she actually cared about the questions that she pondered that morning, or was that nothing more than vague curiosity with the living anomaly? Even if she could claim that there was some genuine concern over Pinkie, Rarity realized that her actions proved beyond her powers of rationalization that she was far more concerned with herself than the one that had all but begged not to be sent away the night before.
“When she left that morning, I knew she was hurting; it was obvious, but I… I didn’t chase after her until…” Rarity didn’t want to finish the thought, but she had no right to refrain, no excuse not to accept the guilt the bowed her head low as the full weight of Chai’s words came crashing down. “...until I wanted something.” Three time had she been asked why she had come to Dodge, why she had chased Pinkie out into Equestria’s premier dust bowl, and three times she had found herself without answer. Now she knew. She had come for herself, and nopony else.
“It was little wonder that I couldn’t stand to see myself in the mirror… there wasn’t anything beautiful left to see.” Her hoof slid from her cheek so that she could look at the bandages, the brilliant white masking the wound on the otherside. “How long have I let the hurt in my heart hide behind a veil of beauty? Too long, now...” She glanced around her hoof at the Chai and felt something stirring within as she beheld the mare’s disheveled state.
“She looks as upset as I was when Pinkie was… questioning me, but she… she still stood up for what she believed.” The parallel was there, and it wasn’t lost on Rarity. “I… I can’t keep going like I have. I’ve drifted so far from where I want to be… who I want to be… but can I ever get back to where I was? It feels so far away…” Distant lay the goal, but as she dropped her hoof to the floor and met Chai’s distraught gaze with her own, the path from which she had strayed was once more stretched out before her. The journey to rediscover the meaning of true beauty would begin, quite literally, with a shaky step forward, but it was one that she was ready to take.
“Chai?” Rarity murmured, closing the distance between them. She looked deeply into the mare’s eyes and found them filled with fear, and it was with gentleness that Rarity drew the mare close, squeezing her fondly. “...Thank you.”
“Th-thank… what?” Chai stammered, confounded. Those words were among the least she expected to hear, having slapped a mare in the midst of her towering rage. Though Rarity hadn’t even realized it, when she had lowered her hoof and looked at it, Chai had taken a step back and braced herself for retaliation. Instead, she had received for her brutal honesty an embrace, one that she readily accepted and fair well melted into as Rarity tightened her hold.
“You can’t possibly know how… right you are,” she explained in quiet tones. “For a very long time now, I’ve been going about my life with myself as my only focus, and it’s robbed me of so many joys that I’ve taken for granted. I needed something to wake me up, and you,” Rarity explained, pulling back and flashing a weak smile, “were that something.”
“...I knew you weren’t really a bitch.” It was so unexpected coming from Chai and spoken with such matter-of-fact conviction that Rarity couldn’t help but laugh a little, dispelling some of the tension.
“I… rather have been as of late,” Rarity conceded ruefully. “It’s going to take time to clean up the mess that I’ve become. But..." Genuine warmth brought to Rarity a small smile as she remembered the letter that had sparked originally moved her to action. It had come from a city as rife with prosperity as it was fraught with turmoil, and she could think of no better place to be than somewhere to rediscover her passion than where there were many with needs to be met. Her hooves could never take back what they had done that day, but maybe, maybe they could yet reach out and touch somepony for good. "...I think I know where to start.”
“Are you sure about this?” Rarity let forth a quiet sigh before turning towards Twilight and nodding her affirmation. They stood just inside the Carousel Boutique, though rather than racks upon racks of summer fashion, there were only bare mannequins and two large suitcases. “I see…” she murmured sadly, looking over at her friend’s uncommonly modest amount of luggage. “That’s not very much.”
“No, I suppose it isn’t,” Rarity agreed. “But… that’s rather the point, isn’t it?”
“I guess…” To be honest, Twilight still hadn’t quite managed to comprehend the situation. Rarity had scarce stepped off the train before gathering together her friends and telling them all of her plans to move to Manehatten. They had listened with varying levels of disbelief as Rarity recounted the details of Pinkie’s flight, of her inexplicable shift in temperament and of the ponies that had cared for her in Dodge. From her cowardice to her shameful pride, nothing that had transpired was left untold. It was then that she informed them that she had decided to close the Boutique and spend some time giving back, and while Twilight had every respect for what she intentioned to do, and honestly supported her decision, that didn’t change the fact that within less than a week’s time, she was losing two of her closest friends.
“Please, dear, don’t look so distraught,” Rarity exhorted Twilight with a fragile smile. “It won’t be forever, you know.”
“Do you promise, Rarity?”
“I Pin-” The name caught in her throat, and there followed after a short silence as both ponies stood with heads bowed. Already the general atmosphere of Ponyville had begun to shift since Pinkie had left. Ponies were more likely to be cranky, and more than a few frowns had started to overtake even the cheeriest of muzzles, but there was little that could be done to stop it; Pinkie’s antics and heartful exuberance were irreplaceable, and everypony knew it.
“...I promise,” Rarity said after a time, her hollow tone doing little to bring any sense of comfort to Twilight’s misgivings. “Would you mind walking me to the station?”
“Huh? Oh, sure, I can do that,” came a distracted reply from Twilight. Grabbing one suitcase apiece, they both began their trek to the train station in silence. “No wonder she asked me along,” she thought to herself, noting the foul looks being directed towards the unicorn at her side. “I know that there are many who blame her for the fact that Pinkie’s gone now, but can’t they see that she’s just as hurt by all of this? Being upset at her isn’t going to bring her back, and-”
“Let it go, Twilight.” The mare cringed as she looked over to find herself being regarded with a mixture of understanding and guilt. “It’s only natural that they find someone to blame, and it is true that I played a role in driving Pinkie away. Let them be,” she pleaded gently, “they have every right to be upset.”
“But it wasn’t just you,” Twilight countered, shaking her head. “This isn’t something that just one pony could have caused. Everypony could have done better, and… and us most of all.” There wasn’t much that Rarity could have said to refute the truth of Twilight’s words, so they continued on in silence until they arrived at the station.
Twilight sat by a bench as Rarity purchased her tickets, searching for some word of encouragement or hidden scrap of wisdom that might make the transition that was mere minutes away just a little bit easier to bear. They had discussed, quite fervently, what could be the potential source of Pinkie Pie’s grievances, but the deeper that they had attempted to dig, the more they realized how precious little they had come to know of the mare. Frustration had yielded flaring tempers, and the meeting had come to an unceremonious close as Rainbow Dash bolted from the library. In fact, since that night she had heard and seen little of her friends, and every tick tock of the hands on the clock reminded her that when she left there, it would likely fall on her shoulders to pick up the pieces, and so it was that she found herself at a loss as Rarity took a seat beside her.
“Are you… are you sure you can’t stay for a few more days?” Twilight asked after a few minutes of quiet. “There are plenty of ponies here that you could help. Besides, Applejack and Rainbow Dash are both due in just the next few days, and-”
“Twilight, please… stop.” Twilight’s ears melted as she looked over to find Rarity staring dead ahead with tears brimming in her eyes. “You have no idea how dearly I wish that I could stay, how much I’d love to be part of such a meaningful occasion, but I… I can’t stay.” Her eyes screwed shut as she fought to keep control. “I’ve lived a life of complacency and compromise for so long that it’s the only natural response I have. If I… If I back down for even just one moment, then I could lose sight of what I’m searching for. I can’t… can’t-”
“Shhh, it’s okay, Rarity, it’s okay,” Twilight whispered, slipping a hoof about her shoulders and pulling her close. “I know that you’ll find your center again. I believe in you.”
“That goes fer me too, sugarcube.” Startled, they both turned to see Applejack waddling over, heavily with foal and mere days, possibly hours from birth, and Fluttershy beside her.
“G-Girls?” Rarity stammered, confused to see any of her friends coming to see her off. “What’re you doing here?”
“Well, um, we both thought that, well…” Fluttershy began, pawing at the ground.
“We figured that ya could do with a good sendin’ off,” Applejack interceded. “We’ve all messed up somethin’ fierce, an’ ah ain’t about t’ have you shippin’ out t’ the big city without a proper goodbye.”
“You mean… you aren’t upset?”
“Upset? Darlin’, ah’m pissed t’ high hell,” Applejack snapped back. “But it ain’t just with you, it’s all of us. We all goofed, an’ I ain’t about t’ let you go skulking off thinkin’ that the burden is only yours t’ carry. Just ain’t right. And besides,” she continued, softening her tone as she leaned closer and placed a hoof on her shoulder. “Takin’ all the blame would be right selfish, an’ ah know that on the inside,” she said as she prodded the mare’s chest., “You’re better than that. That ain’t who you are.”
“Applejack, I…”
“She’s right, Rarity,” Fluttershy butted in, matching Applejack’s confidence, “so you better not tell her she’s wrong.”
“Darn right.” Seeing the mare’s shoulders begin to tremble, Applejack leaned forward and held Rarity in the tightest embrace that her swollen stomach would allow. “You take care now, ya hear?”
“Thank you…” She squeezed back, smiling in spite of all that had happened. “Both of you, thank for coming… But where is-” Before she could finish the sentence, an extremely localized and unprecedented shower came raining down, drenching Rarity and nopony else.
“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight shouted, “You get down here and apologize right now!”
“It’s fine, Twilight, really,” Rarity chuckled, shivering as she shook the excess from her coat. “Rainbow Dash has every reason to be upset.”
“Doesn’t mean she needs t’ be an as-”
“Applejack!” Fluttershy cut in, shooting the mare a dirty look. “She’s just upset because she wasn’t able to bring Pinkie back, either. You know that.”
“Ah know, ah know…” Applejack conceded, scuffing at the ground. Always the first to action and last to reason, Rainbow Dash had taken off the night of Rarity’s return to Ponyville to confront Pinkie after hearing about the situation, despite her strict orders not to fly for more than five minutes at a time. Details on what was spoken between the two were still unknown to the group gathered at the station, but Rainbow Dash wasn’t seen for the two days that followed. “Ah hope she doesn’t do anything too rash. She’s too far along t’ be foolhardy, an’ even Storm’s havin’ a hard time keepin’ her in line.”
The somber statement was followed by the whistle of the approaching train engine, and within a few minutes they had gathered around Rarity as she prepared to board. They exchanged their goodbyes and offered her a few parting words of encouragement, but rather than stepping aboard, she reached into one of her cases and withdrew a neatly wrapped package.
“Would you all see that this is delivered to Pinkie?”
“Of course, Rarity,” Twilight said, stepping forward and accepting the parcel into her magic. She wanted to ask what it was, as did everypony else, but they knew that it was none of their business.
“Thank you, Twilight. I-”
“All aboard! Last call for service to Manehatten~!” Rarity could feel her spirit tugging her towards the door, but her heart pulled towards her friends.
“I must be on my way,” Rarity said, summoning what little strength she could muster and holding her head high. It was now or never. “I promise all of you, my dear friends, that I will return when I have found true beauty. For now,” she paused, lifting her gaze towards the endless expanse. It represented opportunity as much as it did uncertainty, but it was where she needed to be. “For now, I look to new horizons.”
“Ah hope ye find a mirror t’ look at soon, sugarcube,” Applejack said with a grin as she sniffed a little. “You’ll come back to us that much sooner.” Rarity looked down at her hoof and the bandage that still covered the jagged cut that lay beneath, and smiled.
“I’d rather avoid mirrors for the time being,” she chuckled softly, holding the hoof to her chest. “They don’t hold the truth that I seek.”
“So, um, what does, Rarity?”
“Well, Fluttershy… I don’t know,” Rarity said, glancing over her shoulder. “But I hope that soon, I will find the answer.” Waving farewell one more time, she boarded the train and made for an unoccupied compartment. She couldn’t say what waited for her in the city, nor could she say whether or not she would really find the answers she was searching for. What she did know is that somewhere, buried within her was the pony that she knew she could be, and that was what kept her eyes forward and her spirit calm as her time in Ponyville, at least for a time, drew to a close.
