Rarity had plenty of practice sharing a bed with other ponies.

As a younger mare, that thought would have embarrassed her – humiliated her, even. There was a certain kind of mare who carried on relations with so many different ponies, and that was not the kind of mare she imagined herself as. Sophisticated, yes. Liberated, certainly. But not loose. Not a floozy.

Not a whore.

But life was, if anything, unpredictable. If Rarity could do everything over again, her choices would be the same. Every stallion whose eye she caught, every seductive suggestion whispered over a glass of wine, every brushing of lips across soft skin and tongue tasting the sheen of sweat on their coat, she would do again. There was certainly nothing wrong with what she did. Or who she did.

Slut.

All her adventures had never prepared her for this, though. For watching a friend, someone she loved, wailing in their sleep. Rarity could only stare, frozen with incomprehension, as the pony beside her sobbed and thrashed beneath the covers and battered her with wings and hooves. Minutes passed before Rainbow Dash’s convulsions ceased, and her tiny body began to shiver.

She’s soaked with sweat. She must be freezing. Rarity edged closer and wrapped her arms around Dash’s shaking form, pulling her tight against her side. In time even the shivers ceased, and Dash’s frantic breathing slowed to a steady, peaceful rhythm. Rarity let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Rainbow Dash groaned quietly and cracked open her eyes. She stared, unfocused, into the dark corners of the room, and then carefully pushed her forelegs out in front of her. She winced at something, and twisted her left hoof around in a slow circle, back and forth, as though stretching before a race. Eventually, the tightness around her eyes faded, and she let out a quiet sigh.

Does it still hurt? The doctors said it was supposed to be fine. Rarity lifted her head carefully, trying to get a better look at Dash’s leg. Only a faint line of ruffled hair marred the coat above her ankle, all that was visible of a vicious scar where the bone had ripped through her skin. Just thinking about the terrible wound was enough to twist Rarity’s insides, and she drew back ever so slightly—

Rainbow Dash looked up at the movement, and their eyes met. For an untold amount of time, they stared at each other.

Rarity licked her lips. “Dreams?”

No answer. Eventually, Dash turned away and set her head on her crossed forelegs. She tried to hide beneath a wing, but Rarity would have none of it and gently tugged it away.

“Do you...” She paused. Did Dash even want to talk about this? She decided it didn’t matter. “Does this happen often, dear?”

“No.” The word lacked conviction.

Hm. She pressed her nose just behind Dash’s ear. “Have you tried talking about them?” she whispered.

Dash coughed quietly. “They’re dreams, Rares. They don’t mean anything.”

“But—”

“They don’t mean anything.” Dash cut her off. “They’re just memories. Just ghosts.”

The word “ghosts” carried far more weight than Dash could have meant. It hung in the air between them, smothering any attempts to continue the conversation.

Right, well then. Rarity cleared her throat and set her head down. Behind her, unseen, Dash shifted her weight. Her skin prickled as Dash’s sweat began to dry, and a chill replaced the comforting warmth of her presence.

Sharing a bed rarely felt so lonely. Rarity decided, in that moment, that something more had to be done.

When Rarity woke several hours later, she was alone beneath the blankets. The faint sound of running water from the attached bathroom betrayed Rainbow Dash’s location. The bed still bore a faint impression from the pegasus’s body, and Rarity could feel the last traces of warmth lingering there when she touched the spot with her hoof. Dash’s scent – sweat and rain, with a tiny, almost imperceptible tang of ozone, like the air after a thunderstorm – filled her nostrils. She took a deep breath and settled into the soft covers for a few more moments of rest.

The metallic squeak of a faucet turning pulled her back from the edge of sleep, and only silence issued from the bathroom for a few moments before another faucet turned, and the silence was replaced by the quiet rush of the shower. A faint melodic sound rose occasionally above the susurrus of the water, and Rarity realized Dash was singing. Her lips curved up in a smile.

She still does that? How cute.

A bit of dried sweat, all that remained of Dash’s nightmares, crinkled on her coat as she rolled over and considered herself. Her mane and tail were completely wild, not even bound with the barrettes or bands she usually wore at night between stylings. It flowed like a curtain around her, spilling across the blue sheets in an unruly wave. She gave it a quiet sigh.

She pondered, just for a moment, pulling Dash out of the shower and jumping in to take her place before all the warm water was exhausted. But that wouldn’t be very generous, and besides, another shower so soon after last night’s bath would just strip the oils from her coat. With winter around the corner, she couldn’t go around risking dry skin like that.

Her hair was another matter. She rolled out of the bed and stretched, flexing her body in a manner that would have raised eyebrows if Dash had seen her, or drawn scandalized looks in public. She grinned and held the stretch a moment longer than necessary.

It’s important to feel good about how you look.

A quick knock was the only warning she gave Dash before stepping into the bathroom – hopefully singing in the shower was all she was up to. The air inside was heavy with moisture but not steamy like she expected; apparently Dash didn’t go in for hot showers. She pondered that for a moment, until Dash’s head peeked around the shower curtain at her. Her mane was slicked back, its colors dark and subdued with water.

“Oh, hey, you’re up.” She vanished back behind the curtain. “Just gimme a minute to rinse and it’s all yours.”

“There’s no rush, dear. I had that nice long bath last night.” Rarity turned to the mirror to consider herself. A faint fog had started to build on the glass, softening her reflection. She wiped the moisture away with a towel.

The mare in the mirror was as beautiful as ever – stunningly beautiful, even with no makeup and a straight mane starting to go frizzy around the edges. She shook her head to loosen the long hairs, then gathered the entire mass into a single cord, much like Applejack wore. The resulting image looked years younger, almost childlike.

So innocent looking. What an illusionist you’ve become.

She frowned. Perhaps there was enough time to try styling her mane after all, something simple yet sophisticated like a—

“That’s nice,” Dash said. She had a towel wrapped around her head and another draped across her midriff to dry her wings. She stepped up to the mirror beside Rarity. “Are you going to wear it like that? It looks good.”

Was she joking? Rarity stared at Dash in the mirror before reconsidering her own reflection. “Like that? There is no ‘like that,’ darling. There’s no style there. It’s just my mane.”

“Yeah, well, I like it.”

Rarity raised an eyebrow. “Well... I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” she said. “Besides, if I spend any time with you, it’s sure to get ruined again. Ha! This will save time!”

She dug through the drawers, found a few hair bands, and used them to secure her hair in place. Another band went around the end of her tail, and suddenly she looked like Applejack’s distant, more beautiful cousin. Perhaps a grape farmer? She spent a moment wondering what the most sophisticated farmers grew, and would probably have stayed there thinking for a while had not Dash pushed open the door.

“C’mon, let’s get some breakfast,” she said. “I bet Sweetie’s making waffles!”

Sweetie Belle was not, in fact, making waffles. To Dash’s great-yet-temporary disappointment, she had apparently taken Rarity’s remarks to heart and was at the stove stirring a large pot of steaming oatmeal. A variety of small bowls were already set out on the table, containing blueberries, strawberries, banana slices, brown sugar, cinnamon, honey, and even a few items Rarity couldn’t identify from a distance. She trotted closer and leaned over to sniff at them, and made a quiet happy sound at her discovery. Dried peaches, at this time of year!

“Hey sis, Dash.” Sweetie fiddled with the range, and the gas flame beneath the pot dimmed to an almost invisible glow. “This should be ready in a second. Go ahead and grab some drinks.”

“Sweetie, you must let me cook for you at least once.” Rarity filled a glass with water and took a sunlit seat at the table. “I feel like we’re imposing.”

“Yeah, and I can totally cook too!” Dash said. She plucked a hooffull of strawberries from their little bowl and tossed them back like popcorn.

Rarity and Sweetie stared at her in silence while she chewed. Rarity broke first.

“Yes, well, be that as it may, I’d be happy to make breakfast tomorrow,” she said, turning to Sweetie. “Pancakes? Hashbrowns?”

“Hmm, surprise me?”

“I can cook!” Dash said again.

“Yes dear, we heard you. Anyway, Sweetie, how about breakfast muffins? I could swing by Sugarcube Corner tonight and grab something.”

“Hey, I said I can cook!”

“Muffins would be nice. Banana nut, and maybe a few oat bran?”

“Certainly.” Rarity risked a glance at Dash, who had crossed her forelegs and was pouting. “Rainbow, would you like muffins tomorrow?”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine, muffins.” Her ears perked up abruptly. “Hey, do you think they still have those cinnamony muffins with the sugar on top?”

“The allspice crumb muffins?” Sweetie asked. She carefully levitated the steaming pot of oatmeal over to the table and ladled a scoopful into each of their bowls. After a subtle prompt from Rarity, she added another scoop to Dash’s bowl. “They should, or we can ask Pinkie to whip up a batch. I wouldn’t mind a few of those myself.”

“Sweet! Hey, thanks.” Any lingering dejection over her unappreciated cooking skills evaporated as Dash inhaled the steam rising from the oatmeal, then promptly dumped most of the contents from each of the condiment bowls into hers. By the time she was done, there were more assorted fruits and spices in her bowl than oatmeal.

“Anything else we can get you, dear?” Rarity inspected the strawberry bowl. Only two left. She sighed and passed it to Sweetie.

“Mmfm, I’m goodf,” Dash mumbled around a mouthful of oatmeal.

“Wonderful.” She turned to Sweetie Belle, who was watching Dash with a small, knowing smile on her face. “So, what are your plans for the day? Seeing anypony?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Sweetie popped the last strawberry in her mouth and chewed it down before continuing. “Want to come along?”

They heard the other crusaders long before they saw them.

The sun was barely above the trees when they left the Boutique, but already the day was warming nicely. The wind against their coats was a cool pressure rather than the chill touch of yesterday, as though summer were reluctant to give way to the slowly darkening days of autumn written on the trees. Bright yellow and red leaves kicked up in the breeze and swirled around them like a cloud.

There wouldn’t be many more days like this. Rarity took a deep breath, inhaling all the scents of the changing seasons, and then let it out slowly. Her coat tingled as it rubbed against the soft green chemise she had selected for the day’s outing. She would take it off when it grew warm later, she knew, and perhaps tie it around her neck as a kind of makeshift scarf. It was that kind of day.

Sweetie led Rarity and Dash toward the edge of town, which was now much further from the Boutique than the edge of town had been while Rarity still lived in Ponyville. New houses decked out in bright colors lined the roads as they passed, and the sounds of families rousing for a lazy autumn weekend teased at her ears. Faintly, she could hear fillies and colts squealing as they played some unseen game.

It was too perfect a day for ponies to miss, and the park at the town’s edge was already starting to fill when they arrived. The other crusaders had beaten Sweetie there, by the sound of it – Rarity heard Scootaloo shout something, followed by Apple Bloom’s wild laughter.

So much like her sister. She spared a glance at Sweetie, whose face lit up at the sounds before she dashed ahead to greet her friends. By the time Rarity and Dash caught up, the three were wrapped in a tight hug that seemed to ignore the world around them.

Rarity stared at them longer than she should have. For a moment, a fleeting moment, she could have imagined it was three different ponies, in a different autumn some years past, when the weight of the world on her shoulders was as light as the chemise she now wore, and her adult cares were nothing but a shadow on the horizon. She sighed and turned to see Dash looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Remind you of anypony?” Dash asked. The ghost of a smile teased at her lips.

“Maybe,” Rarity said. She kept her voice low, safe from the girls’ ears. “What happened to us?”

Dash just shrugged. Any further answer she might have offered was lost when the crusaders finally turned toward them.

“Hey!” Scootaloo shouted, apparently noticing them for the first time. “Are you here to play too?”

“Play?” Dash’s wings rose from her sides, and she pronounced the word like it was a long lost friend. “You know it! What’s the game?”

“Hoofball.” Scootaloo leaned over to grab a red rubber ball from Apple Bloom’s saddlebags and bounced it on the grass with her hoof. “Goals are those trees over there,” she pointed with a wing at a pair of trees about 20 feet apart at one end of the park, “and the space between the bench and the pavillion.” The bench and pavillion were both unused at this time of day, fortunately, or otherwise their game might be more interesting than expected.

“Oh, and no wings or magic,” Apple Bloom said. The smirk on her face grew as Dash spluttered.

“No flying? What fun is that?”

“It’s still fun, just means you have ‘ta run around a bit,” Apple Bloom said. “Not afraid of running, are ya?”

“Hey! If I can beat your sister in a race I can beat you, too!” Dash’s wings flared out to their fullest extent. She looked ready to attack the little red ball.

Some moderation was called for, Rarity decided. She stepped up to Dash’s side and carefully pushed her wing down. “If I remember correctly, darling, Twilight Sparkle beat you both. Something about the two of you being too competitive?”

“Yeah, well, I still beat Applejack.” She paused long enough to settle her wings back down. “Fine, no wings. Me and Scoots versus you and Sweetie?”

Apple Bloom nodded. “Sounds fair. I’ll try not to whup you too bad. Rarity, you wanna be the ref?”

“Actually, I’d like to play, if that’s alright.”

Silence. The other four ponies stared at her.

“You, uh...” Sweetie Belle stopped to think. “Are you sure, sis? This is a pretty physical game.”

She waved a hoof dismissively. “I realize that, dear. I played hoofball as a filly, too.”

“Yeah, it’s just that—”

“Scootaloo, since you were a filly I’ve faced down more than one dragon, a manticore, parasprites, a hydra, the avatar of primordial chaos, and of course Nightmare Moon. I think I can survive a game of hoofball with the girls.”

Whatever Scootaloo planned to say died on her tongue. Her mouth hung open for another moment before she finally closed it with an audible clack of her teeth.

Dash recovered first. “Okay. How do we want to do teams? It’s gonna be three-to-two either way.”

“Rarity can be on your team,” Sweetie Belle said. The others, even Scootaloo, nodded instantly at her suggestion.

Dash looked at Rarity with a raised eyebrow. Rarity gave her a smile in return and nodded.

“I think that sounds fair. Any special rules?”

“Not really,” Scootaloo said. “You can take three steps with the ball. No wings or horns, of course. And no kicking, tackling, or biting.” She aimed that last restriction squarely at Apple Bloom, who stuck out her tongue.

“And no choking,” Sweetie Belle said.

“Yeah, and no spitting. Seriously, Apple Bloom.”

“That was one game,” Apple Bloom said, rolling her eyes. “Sheesh, you sure you two don’t wanna have tea or somethin’ instead?”

Scootaloo’s wing snapped out, its trailing pinion flicking at Apple Bloom’s ear and tossing her mane askew. “Can it. You want the ball first?”

Apple Bloom’s response was to reach out with her hoof and roll the ball towards her. Just as the ball got moving, her hoof darted in front of it and kicked it high into the air, and she caught it expertly atop her head. “That’s fine. Good luck, girls!” She gave them a wide grin, then trotted off toward her half of the field with Sweetie Belle in tow.

A faint sense of unease was beginning to build in Rarity’s gut – that feeling she sometimes got when diving into a project that was just a little over her head. “She, uh, she seems to take this game very seriously.”

“Yeah, she checks hard, too. Be careful,” Scootaloo said. Her wings extended to pull both Dash and Rarity closer. “Okay, they’re both pretty good at this, but we’ve got the extra pony. I’ll cover Sweetie, Rarity, you cover Apple Bloom. Dash, you’re fastest on your hooves, just cover whoever’s open. Questions? No? Good, here they come!”

Rarity did, in fact, have several questions, the first and most important being why she had to cover the over-excited earth pony and not, say, her sweet little sister. She opened her mouth to ask, but by that point her teammates were already halfway down the field. For their part, Apple Bloom and Sweetie were leapfrogging forward, one holding the ball while the other ran into position. They seemed to be tossing the ball quite hard.

“C’mon, Rarity!” Dash shouted back at her. “Get moving!”

By the time their third game began, around an hour later, Rarity was forced to conclude that a second career as a professional hoofball player was a dream out of reach.

Covering Apple Bloom wasn’t too hard, which was to say it wasn’t very painful. Certainly, she had no luck whatsoever in keeping the ball from the earth pony, or blocking it when Apple Bloom went for a pass. Even when Apple Bloom had used her three steps, and was forced to plant her hooves, she still managed to reach around Rarity’s grasping legs and fling the ball exactly where she wanted, either toward Sweetie Belle or past the goal markers.

Being covered by Apple Bloom, on the other hoof, was a distressing experience.

This game hadn’t gotten out of control yet – Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle were only up by four points. They seemed to be playing only semi-seriously, laughing and trotting along, letting Rarity keep pace gasping alongside them.They had even attracted a small audience of foals and their families, who cheered whenever Scootaloo had the ball.

A chorus of shouts managed to distract Rarity from contemplating the stitch in her side, and she looked up to see Scootaloo and Dash charging down the field with the ball. Sweetie was just steps behind Dash, and already moving to intercept the ball if it came her way. Scootaloo saw that, paused, and then wound up a mighty throw that sent the ball arcing toward Rarity.

This is it! We can score! Rarity dismissed the ache in her side and raced toward the ball. The throw was high, and she planted her hooves, waiting for it to fall to her.

It never arrived. Before the ball got within two pony lengths of the ground, something slammed into Rarity’s side, knocking her clean off her hooves and sending her sliding across the wet grass. Her breath exploded from her chest in a violent rush, and for a moment the entire world was a confused jumble of sky and ground and colorful trees.

“Ugh...” She pushed herself up onto her forelegs, staying on her haunches for the time being. A few feet away Apple Bloom was already back up on her hooves, though she appeared a bit disoriented by the collision as well. The little red ball, completely missed by either pony, bounced a few times and finally rolled to a stop just a few feet short of the goal. Rarity scowled at it.

So close.

“You alright, sis?” Rarity turned to see Sweetie Belle trotting up to her side. She laid a hoof on Rarity’s shoulder, then scowled over at Apple Bloom. “What was that?” she demanded.

“Sorry!” Apple Bloom ducked her head, looking and sounding for a moment like the filly from Rarity’s memories. “I was goin’ for the ball. I didn’t know she stopped!”

Dash and Scootaloo chose that moment to arrive, landing neatly between the two fillies. Apparently the no-wings rule only applied during play.

“That was awesome!” Scootaloo said. “But, uh, are you two okay?”

“Fine.” Rarity finally wheezed. It was all she could do to whisper the word – her diaphragm wasn’t quite back under her control yet. She winced at the ache in her side and forced herself to take a few slow, deep breaths.

“You sure?” Dash draped a wing across her back. “That was a pretty rough hit. Took it like a champ, though!”

“Certain, dear, and thank you.” She pushed herself up onto all four hooves and turned to Apple Bloom. “Are you alright? You must’ve felt that as well.”

Apple Bloom waved a hoof. “Try playing with Applejack. That happens five times a game, at least.”

“Yeah, that sounds like her. She can be a little competitive sometimes,” Dash said. She had the good grace to at least blush when the rest of them stared at her.

“An accurate enough statement, I suppose.” Rarity shook her head, then turned her attention back to the little red ball that was the source of all her problems. Her horn glowed for a moment, and the ball floated back toward their group. “If you girls don’t mind, I think I’m going to take a bit of a breather.”

“Sure.” Scootaloo smacked the ball with a wingtip, bouncing it onto the ground where she trapped it with a hoof. “I saw Pipsy and Featherweight watching us, they’ll probably be happy to play.”

Even distracted as she was, Rarity couldn’t miss the brief widening of Sweetie Belle’s eyes at the colts’ names. Just as quickly her face was back to its usual happy smile. Rarity filed that little tidbit away for later consideration, and then departed for the sidelines after giving the four a quick friendly nuzzle.

The park had filled up nicely as the morning wore on. Young couples staked out spots in the scattered sunlight between the trees and were already opening picnic baskets and laying out blankets to cover the dewy grass. Fillies and colts of all ages ran unchecked through the open spaces, playing games of their own design that brought back memories of Rarity’s own foalhood and its endless, carefree days.

How simple things had been, back then. She sighed quietly and might have lost herself in reminiscing, if not for a pair of familiar mares chatting in the shade of a nearby tree. Rarity blinked in surprise and trotted over to them.

Fluttershy and Twilight Sparkle greeted her with a pair of warm smiles. A simple bread-and-cheese spread was laid out on the bare grass between them, and to judge by the collection of crumbs on Twilight’s muzzle they had been snacking for some time. Twilight never had been the neatest of eaters.

“Hello Rarity. Are you alright? That was a nasty fall you took,” Fluttershy said. She was stretched out on her side, probably the most comfortable position for her with that foal in her belly.

“Oh, you saw that?” Rarity tittered. “Just enjoying some time with my sister. She’s a bit more, ah, physical than I was at her age.”

“Mhm.” Twilight looked past her at the now-resumed hoofball game. “How is Dash today?”

“Ah...” Rarity turned back to the game. Dash was mixed up right in the middle of some scrum over the ball, jostling with the crusaders and several more colts and fillies whom they had apparently convinced to join. Her expression was wild with joy apparent even from a distance, and they could hear her shouting instructions to her new teammates. She seemed to be having fun.

Just ghosts.

Rarity blinked rapidly and shook her head to clear it of the memory. For a moment, the night had closed in around her as she held a sobbing Rainbow Dash in her arms.

“She’s fine,” Rarity said. “Really enjoying herself, I’d say.”

“That’s good. Would you like to join us? You look like you could use a break.”

“Oh, Twilight, you’re too kind.” Rarity circled around so she could sit with the mares and still keep an eye on the game, and then slowly lowered herself to the grass with a wince. Her hips and shoulders were beginning to ache from the unaccustomed exercise and the rough handling she’d experienced at Apple Bloom’s hooves, and she suspected her entire left side would be bruised beneath her coat come morning.

They passed the next hour or so in idle chatter as they watched the game. Twilight, it seemed, was preparing to start tutoring a student of her own, a young unicorn not much older than she herself had been when Celestia first began mentoring her. She had already constructed a lengthy syllabus and course of study for the young colt, but despite all her preparations, Rarity could hear a faint nervous quaver in her voice. Going from student to teacher was a big step for Twilight, Rarity realized, possibly the biggest she had taken since becoming a princess.

Fluttershy had less to say, but that was hardly unusual. She seemed content to munch on her bread and watch the ponies around them, occasionally offering a kind comment or two whenever the conversation needed one.

Eventually the bread was gone, and Fluttershy carefully rose to her hooves. Even carrying the extra weight, she somehow seemed more graceful than any other mare Rarity had ever known.

“Thank you for the lunch, girls, but I need to get back to my animals. And don’t worry, Twilight, I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

Twilight ducked her head, but managed a smile. “I know, it’s just... it’s a big thing. I’ve never taught anypony. What if I do it wrong?”

“Then we’ll help you.” Fluttershy leaned down to give Twilight a quick nuzzle, followed by another for Rarity before departing.

They watched her go silently. Eventually Twilight sighed.

“She’s going to be a great mother.”

“And you’ll be a fine teacher, dear. Try not to worry about it too much, hm? You know how you get sometimes.”

“Heh, yeah.” Twilight pawed at the grass with a hoof. “Anyway, I should head back to the castle. Spike should have lunch ready soon.”

“Oh.” Rarity was about to stand and wish her farewell when a nagging thought popped into her mind. “Actually, do you have a moment?”

“Of course.” Twilight’s eyes flicked for a moment to the gaggle of ponies celebrating the end of the hoofball game. Rainbow Dash’s garish mane and tail were easily visible in the mass. “Want to talk about something?”

“Yes, it’s about Rainbow Dash, actually.” She lowered her voice and scooched a bit closer to Twilight, who leaned her head forward in return. “She’s not... well, when I said she was fine earlier, that wasn’t entirely true.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow, and her gaze darted back to Rainbow Dash for a moment, but she said nothing. The silence stretched out for an uncomfortable moment before Rarity continued.

“This might sound silly, but she’s been having some bad dreams. Nightmares, really. About the accident.”

Twilight nodded. “That’s not surprising, to be honest. It was a traumatic event.”

“Yes, but it’s... Twilight, it’s really hurting her. Last night she was practically crying in her sleep. I’d never seen anything like it.”

Twilight raised both eyebrows this time, and Rarity mentally cursed herself. She hadn’t meant to give away their sleeping arrangements just yet, but it was important for Twilight to understand how serious the problem was. Besides, with Sweetie Belle already in the know, it wouldn’t be long before word leaked out to their entire circle of friends.

“She doesn’t seem like she’s hurting.”

“Twilight, you didn’t see her in Fillydelphia. She looked terrible when I met her. Did you know she’s barely flown since the accident? The Wonder Bolts must only be keeping her on the team out of charity. When I see her at night...” Rarity trailed off with a light cough as her throat hitched, and she felt tears trying to fill her eyes. She blinked rapidly and tried to swallow.

Twilight bit her lip and glanced between Rarity, the distant form of Rainbow Dash, and her own hooves. “Applejack said something like that, the day after you two returned. Dash slept at the farm, and I guess they noticed something was wrong. I’d hoped they were just being too sensitive, but... well, maybe they weren’t.”

“I don’t think they were, dear.” Rarity let out a quiet breath. “So, can you help?”

“Uh...” Twilight leaned back. “What do you mean? Help how?”

“With her dreams. I was hoping you’d read something, or maybe knew a spell... something to make them stop.”

“Dream magic is complex, Rarity, and I’ve never attempted it. There are probably unicorns in Canterlot who could help, but I don’t think I can.”

“Can you at least check? I’d hate to see her suffer if there were some way we could help her here.”

“Well...” Twilight cast another glance in Dash’s direction. “Sure, I can check. No promises, though. Come by the castle later tonight.”

That was a weight off her shoulders. Rarity sagged in relief and leaned over to press her cheek against Twilight’s. “Thank you, darling. It means a lot to me.”

“Of course, Rarity. She’s my friend too.” She paused for a moment. “It looks like she’s about done, too. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Indeed, it seemed the game was finally breaking up. Rainbow Dash was walking toward them and chatting with Scootaloo, while Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle stayed behind with a group of colts. Rarity pushed herself onto her hooves and trotted to meet them.

“Hey Rares, you feeling better? Missed some good games,” Dash said. Her coat was dishevelled and smeared with streaks of green and brown, but the smile on her face was as genuine as Rarity had seen on her since their return to Ponyville.

“Much better, dear. I think I’ll be sore in the morning, though.” Now that she bothered to look, her own coat appeared even more filthy than Dash’s. One drawback of having such a bright coat, she reflected.

“Ha! Sore muscles are how you know you’re doing it right.” Dash’s wings snapped open and flapped a few times before settling back to her sides. “Hey, we should do this tomorrow!”

“Mm, that’s a lovely idea, dear.” Or not. Still, if it made Rainbow this happy... She winced in anticipation. “Anyway, I think I need a bath after this, and then some lunch. Shall we meet back at the Boutique?”

“Sure. C’mon Scoots, I’ll walk you home.” She reached out a wing to flick Scootaloo’s ear, and then she was off, followed a second later by the laughing filly.

So simple. Rarity stared after them and sighed. She nearly started walking back to the Boutique alone when she remembered Sweetie Belle, and she turned just in time to see her sister speaking with that young pinto colt, Pipsqueak. They had stepped apart from the rest of their friends, and were speaking with their heads just inches apart.

Well, hello. Rarity trotted toward them, a small smile on her face. They looked up when she came near.

“I see you survived the game, Sweetie,” she said. “And Pipsqueak, isn’t it? Did you have fun?”

“It’s always fun to play with friends, Miss Rarity,” he said. That delightful Trottingham accent hadn’t faded, she was happy to hear. “And I should add that it’s lovely to see you back in Ponyville. This town didn’t seem quite as beautiful with you gone.”

“Oh, stop.” She favored him with a sultry smile. “When did you become such a little charmer?”

“One of my special talents, as it happens.” He gave her a rakish wink that was so over the top even Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes at it. “Anyway, I’d best catch up with the lads. I’ll see you later, Sweetie.” He leaned forward and gave her a peck on the cheek and just as quickly was off, trotting after a gaggle of colts heading back toward town.

Rarity couldn’t help the grin that stretched across her face. For her part, Sweetie Belle coughed and suddenly found something very interesting in the grass to stare at.

“You know, suddenly I do feel better,” Rarity said. “Anything you’d like to tell me, Sweetie?”

“Ahem. No.” Sweetie tilted her head up and trotted past, heading back to the Boutique. Rarity fell into step beside her, and for a few long seconds they walked in silence.

It was too good an opportunity to let pass, though. “So, did mom and dad ever give you the talk?”

“Sis!”

Some hours later, after a light lunch and a quick shower that removed most of the grime from her coat, Rarity found herself walking through Ponyville’s streets again. The sky to the west was awash with gold and red as the falling sun fell behind bands of high clouds, and the warmth of the day slowly faded with the wind. Their short reprieve from the fall weather would be over soon, she judged.

The castle doors were still open when she arrived, and she let herself in without knocking and walked to the library. A few books were laid out on the tables and desks, evidence of the day’s visitors, but otherwise there was no pony in sight. She was about to go searching for the princess when the mare herself poked her head out from the kitchen.

“Hi Rarity, have a seat. You want some tea?” She vanished back into the kitchen, and Rarity heard the faint whistle of a boiling teapot.

“That would be delightful,” she called back and settled down on a cushion beside the least cluttered table in the room. A mess of loose leaf papers, filled with Twilight’s neat penmanship, competed for space with a stack of books on elementary spellcasting. Preparation for her new role as a tutor, Rarity guessed.

The papers glowed with a faint lavender light and suddenly arranged themselves into a neat stack, clearing enough space on the table for Twilight to set a pair of steaming teacups. Rarity murmured her thanks and took a careful sip. Jasmine, with a hint of oolong, and not bad at all. She blew on it and took a deeper drink.

“So,” Twilight said. She set her drink down on the table. “Dreams.”

Rarity nodded. “Any luck?”

“Yes and no. Dreams have been the subject of much study and conjecture, but there’s no real treatment for recurring nightmares. They’re a symptom of some underlying psychological injury. Simply stopping the nightmares would be like... Well, like putting ice on a broken limb. It might dull the pain, but the break itself still needs to be set in order to heal correctly.”

“So how do we fix her?” She paused. “Ugh, that didn’t sound right. She’s not broken. She’s just... hurting.”

“It takes time. It’s only been six months.”

Rarity sighed and took another sip from her tea. It tasted stronger now that it had cooled slightly, and she let it linger on her tongue before speaking. “That’s easy to say during the day, Twilight, when she seems fine. She puts on a brave face, of course. She’s not the kind of pony who can stand to look weak. But she’s not getting any better. If you could see her at night you’d agree.”

Twilight was silent for a moment. “Forgive me for saying this, Rarity, but are you sure you’re not letting your own emotions interfere with your judgement?”

Rarity stiffened, and for a horrified instant she feared that Twilight had somehow discovered her life in Fillydelphia, had somehow learned of the dozens of nameless stallions she rutted in desperate one-night stands. A flash of pain interrupted her thoughts, and she realized she was biting the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood. She coughed delicately and licked her lips, ignoring the coppery taste in her mouth.

“What do you mean, darling?” The words came out as smooth as ever. Not even Applejack could have heard the fear and deceit in them.

“I mean, you’ve been very close to Rainbow Dash lately,” Twilight said. “Very close.”

Is that all? Rarity could have laughed with relief. Instead she let a small, carefully measured smile show on her lips. “Rainbow Dash is a good friend, Twilight, just like you are. Nothing more.”

“Mhm.” Twilight gave her a long look, and then took another sip from her tea. She swirled the nearly empty cup around before continuing. “Of course. That said, there’s not much that can be done about nightmares. There are drugs or spells that will block dreaming, but that’s not healthy. Ponies need to dream, or various other mental problems will start to occur.”

“Worse, as in...”

“Insomnia, psychosis. Dementia.”

“Oh.” Rarity stared down at her cup. Those certainly sounded bad. “So, there’s nothing you can do?”

Twilight was silent for a while. Her eyes flicked briefly to her bookshelf, then back down to her cup.

Rarity raised an eyebrow. “Twilight?”

“Well, it’s not a treatment, but... You’ve heard the saying, ‘A burden shared is a burden halved’?”

“I have,” Rarity said slowly. “What of it?”

“There are spells that can let you do that, literally in this case. It’s called Dreamwalking. If she trusts you enough to try it, and let you inside her dreams, you would actually share them, and hopefully be able to confront the root cause behind them.”

“And that would stop them?”

“Uh, maybe? It’s really more of a theory of mine than anything else.”

Rarity frowned. That was somewhat less than reassuring. “But the spell works?”

“Oh, yes!” Twilight practically gushed. “Dreamwalking has been around for centuries. It was one of Princess Luna’s first gifts to the unicorns. It mostly fell into disuse after she was banished, but the techniques still work.”

“I see... This is a safe technique, of course?”

“Pretty safe. Ultimately, it’s still just a dream. It might scare you, but that’s about it.”

She frowned again, but this time in thought. She doesn’t want to talk about her problems. This could help her. Still, the idea of sharing another pony’s dreams, or especially nightmares, seemed faintly unsettling to her.

It could help her.

“So, can you teach me this spell?”

Twilight snorted, and Rarity felt a brief flash of anger that was quickly squashed. “Not unless you have a few months. No offense, Rarity, but this isn’t like gem finding.”

“Right.” Rarity bit back the acidic reply she wanted to speak aloud. “What do we do, then?”

Twilight stood and trotted over to another desk piled high with reference books. She opened a drawer beneath it, and a blue gem the size of a large marble floated out. Rarity peered at it, suddenly curious, as Twilight brought it back to the table.

Ocean sapphire. A large one, too. It wasn’t a particularly rare gem, but this was a fine specimen – perfectly round and a deep, rich blue that shimmered like water when rotated in direct light. She gave it a little tap with her hoof and then looked back up at Twilight.

“I prepared it earlier today,” Twilight said. She looked a little nervous, or perhaps excited. “It has a single use of a simple Dreamwalking spell bound to it. Use it right before the two of you go to sleep, and it will let you share each other’s dreams.”

“She’ll...” Rarity drew back from the gem. “She’ll be able to see mine, too?”

“Yes, like I said, it’s a simple spell. Princess Luna could probably make a spell that only works one way, but that requires a degree of specialization I just don’t have.”

“I’m sure you did just fine, dear. How does it work?”

Twilight leaned over the table to nudge the gem with her hoof. “It’s more fragile than it looks. If you crack it, a few drops of a thaumaturgically neutral liquid solution...” She trailed off at Rarity’s bewildered look. “Uh, a few drops of something like water will come out. Dribble them on your foreheads before you go to sleep.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. Assuming it works, I mean.”

So reassuring. Rarity frowned. “What if it doesn’t?”

“Then I wasted one of Spike’s gems. There’s no chance of it harming either of you, if that’s your concern.”

“I would prefer not to be harmed, now that you mention it. Anything else I should be aware of?”

“Not really. It might feel a bit different than normal dreaming. Not as... well, not as dreamlike, I guess.”

Rarity leaned forward, putting her eye right up next to the gem. It looked no different from any of the other ocean sapphires she had worked with over the years. But if Twilight was to be believed... She shook her head and straightened back up.

“This is a tremendous gift, Twilight. How can I repay you?”

Twilight waved a hoof. “It’s for Dash. If you really feel like repaying somepony, get Spike a nice gem to replace it.”

Easy enough. She lifted the gem and tucked it into her mane for safekeeping.

Tonight was going to be different.

Their evening was nice, as Fluttershy would have said.

Nothing exciting or dramatic, just Rarity, her sister and Dash having a dinner of lentils garnished with pine nuts, followed by a few casual hours by the fire as night slowly descended outside. Sweetie read from one of her music theory books, occasionally scribbling out a few notes on a piece of scratch paper, or humming a melody under her breath when she thought nopony was listening too closely.

For the first time in several days, Rarity practiced her chosen trade, using a bit of borrowed paper to sketch some new designs that had been bouncing around in her head. Pegasus fashion had never really been her thing – she was more inclined to Canterlot and its high society, filled with unicorns who demanded an ensemble worth of their station.

But weren’t pegasi noble, in their own savage fashion? Free, independent, willful. Not all of them, of course – her mind drifted back to Fluttershy, and she stifled a laugh. But most of them were like the birds they sometimes resembled, fierce and untrammeled, and they deserved outfits that reflected their spirits.

She looked over at Rainbow Dash, who had watched her sketch in silence for most of the past hour. “Any thoughts, dear?”

Dash shook her head. “No, just neat to watch. Is that how you come up with all your designs?”

“Not always. Sometimes customers will have a very specific vision, and they simply want me to craft it for them. I try to avoid those.” She gave Dash a sharp look.

“Heh, yeah, uh, sorry about that. Again.”

“We can’t all be fashionistas, darling.”

Not much else was said until the fire burned low, and the embers that remained were not bright enough to read or draw by. Rarity gathered her loose papers into a sheaf and glanced over at her sister. Sweetie was already out like a light, her head resting on the open book like a pillow.

Dash chuckled. “She was running pretty hard out there,” she said in a near whisper.

“Didn’t we all? I know I’ll be sore in the morning.”

“Been there. So, should we just let her sleep?”

Rarity shook her head, and stepped over to nudge her sister’s shoulder. Sweetie looked up, bleary-eyed, then yawned and stood herself.

“Mm, sorry, more tired than I thought,” she said. “You two going to bed?”

“I certainly am. Dash?”

“I guess. It’s kinda late.”

“Well, try to keep it down. Some of us have to get up early tomorrow.” Sweetie flicked her tail at Rarity and trotted up the stairs before she could retaliate.

Rarity snorted. Seriously. Like we’re a pair of horny teenagers, or something. They weren’t, of course – just two close friends. She gave Dash a quick glance before following Sweetie up the stairs.

They settled together atop the covers. There was no need for blankets on such a mild night, and the warmth of their coats against each other’s sides was more than enough for now. Dash’s mane was an unruly mess, completely unstyled after whatever bath or shower she’d taken to clean up from the hoofball game. Rarity smiled and ruffled it with a hoof. Dash flicked her ears and turned her head to rub her cheek against Rarity’s foreleg.

“Look at us,” Dash mumbled. “Playing hoofball in Ponyville. I never thought I’d do that again.”

“This week has been like that, hasn’t it?” Rarity lowered her hoof, carefully settling it atop Dash’s. No big deal – just a convenient place to rest it. “I’m doing a lot I never expected.”

“Yeah.” Dash’s eyes flicked down to their hooves, then back to Rarity. “So, uh, how much longer do you think you’ll stay down here?”

Rarity started to answer, but a sudden thought pulled her up short. There was nothing pressing back in Fillydelphia, and the shop would continue to run just fine without her for weeks at a time, if necessary. It would be so easy to say she could stay here forever, or at least as long as she wanted.

But...

“I’m not sure, dear. I have a busy social life back in Fillydelphia. Ponyville is nice, of course, but we left it for a reason.”

A reason? You call a dozen one-night stands a reason?

Perhaps Rarity just imagined it, but Dash’s ears seemed to sink for a moment before darting back to attention. “Yeah, I gotta get back to the Bolts, too. We’re always training and stuff.”

Oh yes, you’re both missing so much right now. Just think, you could be fucking some nameless stallion, and she could be alone in her apartment. Such wonderful lives you’re so eager to get back to.

“So you'll be flying with them, again? I bet they’ll be happy to hear that.” Rarity kept her voice carefully neutral.

“Yeah, it’ll be great. Things are better, now.” Dash couldn’t meet her eyes as she spoke.

Ask her about the dreams. Ask her about the spell.

“I guess we don’t have much time left, then. It’s been nice, though, hasn’t it?” She realized she was rubbing her foreleg against Dash’s unconsciously, and stopped. Hopefully it was too dark to see her blush.

They were silent after that. Their eyes danced about awkwardly, sometimes gazing into the darkness, sometimes looking at each other until a flush of embarrassment sent them darting away. Their tails flicked together, tangling loosely atop the blankets.

Dash’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. “So, uh, goodnight?”

Rarity couldn’t help her smile. “Goodnight, darling.” And then, on an impulse, she leaned forward to place a light peck on the corner of Dash’s mouth. Her friend’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a chilling moment Rarity wondered if she’d made a mistake.

No. Dash’s mouth worked briefly, and suddenly she leaned forward to return the kiss, long and firm. The tip of her tongue touched Rarity’s lips, and then she was gone, leaving them both breathing heavily in the silence that followed.

Well. Rarity’s chest shook with her heartbeat, and she felt Dash vibrating against her side. The feathers in her wings trembled like leaves. She fumbled for something to say.

Dash beat her to it. “You’re a good friend, Rares. Thanks.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for, dear.”

“Yeah, there is.” She pressed her nose against Rarity’s cheek, then settled her chin down between her forelegs. Eventually, her eyes closed, her breathing slowed, and something that might have been peace found its way into Dash’s mind.

Rarity waited. She waited until the shadows cast by the moonlight shifted across the bed. She waited until she was certain Dash was asleep and would not wake.

And then she waited some more.

Finally, hours later, she dared to float the tiny blue gem out from where it had lain hidden in her mane. She squeezed it with her magic, tighter and tighter, and just when she was about to give up and put it away, she felt it shift. A tiny white line had appeared on its surface, and as she watched a drop of water began to seep out.

She held it over Dash’s forehead, letting the drops dribble into her coat. When it seemed like she had enough, she smeared the rest of the liquid on her own forehead, just beneath her horn. A faint scent, something like junipers, seemed to fill the air. She sniffed again, and it was gone.

Time to see if Twilight’s magic was as good as she thought. Rarity closed her eyes, and eventually sleep came.

And with it, dreams.