Catch For Us The Little Foxes

Edited by the Magnificent RazedRainbow and the Most Learned LonelyBrony

***
"Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes, that ruin the vineyards—for our vineyards are in blossom." Solomon
***

Rarity took a sip of wine and stared at the calendar.

Rainbow’s marks—red and sloppy—covered the thing. Messily, Rainbow had been counting the days, coming downstairs and performing the ritual before she would speak a word to Rarity or Sweetie Belle. At the end of the march of days, she’d circled a date and written a brief message: “First flight.”

She sighed and idly watched as the wineglass floated in her magic’s hold. “My poor, impetuous love. Where are you?”

Up in bed, if she had wanted the pegasus’ physical location, but Rarity was more concerned with the intangible. Wings could be fixed. Wings had been fixed.

It had been a long day. Every day since Twilight’s aborted wedding week had been, really. The coming of Discord’s sire had left scars on all of them; Rainbow’s had been more physical.

“LOOK! I’LL FLY! That’ll show you! That’ll finally shut you up!” With a great push, she was airborne. Twilight could only watch in mute awe as, for a split second, she seemed suspended in mid-air with her powerful wings out to their fullest and her hooves reaching ahead. Then, the laughing shifted to howling and bawling as Rainbow twisted in an unnatural fashion and fell back to earth with a sickening crunch.

She swallowed the rest of her drink and tried her hardest to not think about that horrid noise.The smell of blood and the memory Rainbow’s groaning faded. In her own way, she was as trapped in that moment as Rainbow was trapped in the house.

Rarity laid her head on the table. She’d tried to relax, and it simply wasn’t working. All she wanted to do was help Rainbow. All she wanted was for Rainbow to be whole. But her marefriend was sullen at best and despondent at worst. Her days were spent in sloth and sadness, punctuated by brief mania—episodes where Rainbow would roam the house looking for some activity to keep her occupied. She’d read Daring Do in the first weeks, and Rarity had been comforted by the normality of it all. But reading no longer held her. She needed space. She needed to fly.

And she couldn’t. Not yet. The word “never” was understood but never spoken.

Rainbow wasn’t literally confined to the house, of course. While she couldn’t fly, her legs were fine. Rarity had tried to pry her from the house in the months she’d been enduring the indignity of injury. Twilight and Macintosh had invited them to dinner; Fluttershy had done the same. Applejack had offered her a chance to taste some of the fresh, new batch of this season’s cider. Pinkie had dropped by with cupcakes and invitations to go out pranking. Rainbow had turned them all down. She hadn’t even thought about the many invitations from her friends. She’d simply shook her head, maybe said “No thank you,” if she was in a good mood, and wouldn’t hear any argument.

Rarity had tried other ways to get Rainbow out of the house and into the sunlight. Gentle coaxing and repeated invitations to accompany her to the spa had not been the best ideas. Rainbow had always gone before, and Rarity had been rather desperate to get her to do anything but sulk and stare out the window.

“Frustrated?”

She turned to find Sweetie Belle. She glanced from the drained glass to her little sister, and then shrugged. “Shouldn’t you be in bed? I thought you went to sleep an hour ago.”

“It’s late for you, too.”

Rarity conceded this silently. She was struck by how much her little sister had grown up—it was one thing to say that a lady aged like the finest wine and a very different one to believe it. Sweetie was young, intelligent, and still in that nineteen of life when everything seemed understandable. Unsurprisingly, she prodded at the issue.

“Why are you up so late? I thought you were between orders.”

You’ll have to be a bit more subtle than that, sister mine. “Thinking. And you?”

“The same, actually.” Sweetie watched the glass with interest. “I don’t remember you drinking when I was a filly.”

“You have your answer in your unspoken question. You were indeed a filly and late night drinking is usually a more adult activity. If you’re up and alert, you might as well take a seat.” She gestured and Sweetie joined her at the table.

Sweetie looked as if she was thinking. Rarity poured herself a bit more and let her sister compose her next words.

“I’m worried about you two,” Sweetie said, watching the glass.

Rarity at first felt some mild irritation. It was a bit presumptuous of a little filly to start judging the romantic acumen of her elders, wasn’t it? That’s petty, Rarity. Honestly, she’s not the only one. You certainly aren't sure of yourself.

“I am too,” Rarity admitted. “It was worse before you came home. She’s happier now than she was then, more willing to talk and smile. I think it’s you, actually.” She smiled warmly at her sister.

“I’m glad I could clear the air a bit.” She paused. “Rarity, what happened? Rainbow definitely doesn’t want to talk about it, and Twilight won’t give me a straight answer. No one will.”

Rarity let the dark liquid swirl a bit as her magic held the glass aloft. How could she explain adequately? How could she explain that place or that—

—Fell back to earth with a sickening crunch—

—In a way that would do it justice? Sweetie wouldn’t understand the horror of the place from just words, but she had to try and get it across.

“Do you remember how it was like when Discord broke free?”

Sweetie winced. “Yeah, I do.”

“Do you remember how playful he was? Cruel, yes. Bad, certainly. But it was all a joke to him. Imagine the same chaotic force without even an ounce of that playful abandon. All that’s left is raw power and a hunger for disorder. He… I’m getting ahead of myself, I do apologize. An old enemy of Celestia and Luna came back, and he tried to get rid of the Elements. That’s the long and short of it, really. He stole us away through trickery and left us in his own domain.”

“And Rainbow’s wings…?”

Rarity drained this glass quickly. She did not want to think about this and she fervently hoped that Sweetie would just stop asking. But her sister’s curiosity had always been relentless.

“She tried to fly, and there were traps.”

They were both quiet for a moment. Rarity remembered, Sweetie Belle imagined, and both of them saw Rainbow on the ground in a pool of blood. Suddenly, Rarity didn’t want the reddish wine at all. She stood up, surprising Sweetie Belle.

“Rarity? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

“It’s fine, Sweetie. It’s just been a long day. You should get some rest. I’m heading up myself.”

“Okay… I’m, sorry. Try to get some sleep, sis.”

Sweetie Belle shuffled out. Rarity put the bottle away and stood before the calendar with its markings—thinking.

First flight was a hopeful prediction. In reality, it was simply the day the bandages came off for good. Rainbow would have her evaluation, and perhaps an answer, but flight was not guaranteed. The doctors were hopeful, and Twilight was hopeful—but Fluttershy was a pegasus and she’d had a rather bleak outlook.

She just wanted Rainbow to grin that daredevil grin again. It had been too long since she’d heard that signature impetuous laughter and seen her pegasus soaring overhead, or heard a ruckus and found Rainbow Dash crashed in the tree. It wasn’t the flying that she missed—though she loved how Rainbow flew. It was the attitude. The moment that Rainbow Dash had hit the ground with wings and sides torn open by barbed iron bolts, it had left her.

Or was it you, Rarity? Did you have a hoof in this, perhaps?

It was possible.

She headed back to their room, turning the lights off with her magic as she went.

They’d all heard the darkness of the maze whisper to them. Twilight had heard her fiancé, Macintosh, cry out for her. Fluttershy wouldn’t say what she had heard. The voices had convinced Rainbow that she’d never fly again.

They’d told her that Rainbow would die.

She’d begged. She’d pleaded without shame for Rainbow to stay on the ground, and her marefriend had done it as long as she could stand to. But then it had grown too much. She’d felt trapped, and Rarity had tried to hold her back…

She’d said things, when Rainbow was lying there. Things she regretted. Angry, hurt, frightened things.

"You never listen! You just do whatever you want. Fly wherever you want! I always give you room, don’t I?”

Rarity came to the door and noted that Rainbow had left it slightly ajar for her. She smiled and gently pushed it open. Rainbow Dash was asleep on her own side of the bed, snoring lightly . Rarity let the door close behind her, and paused.

She was beautiful—Rarity had always thought so. Her hair was a waterfall of color, pouring down her shoulders and pooling on the sheets. Rarity was struck by the perfect curve of her body under the covers, interrupted by the unnatural shape of the bandages that bound her wings. But even with the ugly reminder, she seemed peaceful. The resentment and angst of Rainbow’s days had been washed away and only what Rarity had loved since the beginning was left. It was a welcome change.

She slipped into bed as silently as she could manage. Rainbow shifted and scooted closer, murmuring. With a smile, Rarity kissed her temple and curled around her sleeping form.

***

I spoke too soon, Rarity thought as they headed out the door.

It had been Sweetie Belle, of course. She was half-Pinkie, what with her ability to brighten up a room by her simple presence. No gentle encouragement to be social sounded like nagging when it came from Sweetie. I bow to the better craftsmare, sister.

She chuckled, partially at the thought and partially out of general happiness. Rainbow was smiling! She was out of the house! She’s even wearing the scarf I made her. Today is a good day.

“I’m so glad you could come!” Sweetie Belle squeaked as she walked between them. She had chattered almost constantly this morning, doing her part. Rainbow chuckled and shrugged.

“Least I could do, kid. Now, you were telling me about campus life earlier…”

Rarity listened, but not closely. She’d heard most of this before, or read it in Sweetie’s letters home. I suppose Rainbow wasn’t truly living with me for most of those letters from the Hoofington Conservatory… It was odd to think of a time before Rainbow.

It was a good day for Rainbow to leave her isolation—the kind of clear autumn day she loved. The sky was still clear and the air was cool. The trees still held onto their foliage in beautiful defiance of the cold and the ever-turning wheel of the seasons.

Rarity hoped the day was enough. She watched Rainbow and wondered to herself, Are you thinking about weather work? She hoped not.

She was on paid disability, which was a blessing. She was still officially the foremare for the local weather team—they couldn’t really afford to replace her. Rarity had wondered if it was truly the part of flying Rainbow missed the most. She didn’t talk about it as much, but Rainbow loved weather work in Ponyville. Rarity suddenly remembered a certain night, when the concept of Rainbow Dash spending the night in her bed had seemed new and exotic.

“It’s the idea that you can move clouds. Have you ever thought about that? I mean, some pegasi never really think about it. They just take it for granted. But a pegasus can shape their world. The feel of thunder under your hooves, the way the rain swirls and falls and comes together between your hooves and forms clouds… it’s awesome.”

She had stroked Rainbow’s cheek. “Forgive me, love, but it sounds like sculpting. Not ‘cool,’ I know—”
“Nah, that’s cool. It is a lot like that. They have cloudsculptors up in Cloudsdale, who could make really intricate things out of thick cloudstuff. I always thought that was cool, but it was too small for me. I’m like…a painter with the weather. I…bend it to my will. That sounds like something a book would say.”

“A book? Twilight getting hold of you, now?” She had chuckled and kissed Rainbow quietly as they lay in bed. She was sleepy—it had been a miracle that she had been awake at all.

Rainbow laughed. “It looks like it’s fifty-fifty with you two. So, you’ve got your eyes open there on campus? Good for you. Find yourself a good colt—but you watch him, got me? Just mention you know the Element of Loyalty and I’m sure they’ll watch their dirty colt hooves.”

Sweetie laughed. “I’m sure. But yes, I’m… Rarity used to call it ‘shopping.’”

“Oh hush,” Rarity said, distracted by her memories.

And Rainbow had blushed—she’d seen it in the low light from the bedside lamp. She still remembered how that light had played over her face, casting deep shadows. Rainbow’s eyes had been jewels in the dark, alight with some emotion Rarity had been too dense to catch.

“It’s…I wish you could fly, Rares. I love you just how you are, but I wish I could take you with me, up in the sky, and let you feel the wind and the rain and the electricity in the air. It’s like… music? No, not completely. It’s deeper than that; you can’t just make it and build it. The wind is going to blow with or without you. You have to turn it to better paths... like an animal, almost. A deer that some sort of predator might chase or something. I don’t know.” She was trying hard, looking for some way to describe the feeling to a sleepy Rarity whose mind was still concerned mainly with how warm her favorite pegasus was.

“It’s… I don’t know how to say it. It sounds stupid when I do.”

“Go on. It’s just us. I won’t tell a soul—on my honor as a lady.”

Rainbow had snorted at that. “Fine. It’s like… us. It’s like I’m back here with you, when we…” And how she had flushed! “It’s like what we do... did... I mean...” Words failed the otherwise brave pegasus and to her undying shame, Rarity let a small giggle out.

Rainbow had backpedaled. “I know it sounds stupid—“

“No, it’s fine. Continue, please. I’m sorry I laughed, Rainbow. It was unbecoming. I begin to see the metaphor.”

Sweetie Belle was laughing again. Her voice had grown musical with age.

“It’s not like that. I don’t know how they do things in Cloudsdale University, but the college air up in Hoofington is a lot less strict. I work hard, but I have tons of time to goof off. It’s nice having Apple Bloom there, as well. I mean, we go to class halfway across the city from each other, but I get to see her a lot.”

“How about Scootaloo? How’s the squirt?” The warmth in her voice momentarily pulled Rarity out of her reverie. Scootaloo hadn’t been back in Ponyville much since graduation. She would never be a speedster, but she’d managed to make up for her disability rather admirably when Ponyville had needed an extra pegasus to help with last Winter Wrap Up. Rarity was curious as to how her sister’s friend was doing as well.

“She’s doing fine last I heard! She’s doing school by correspondence for now, while she tours. Being a professional athlete’s a busy life! Apple Bloom and I miss her a lot, but we know she’ll always come to Hoofington eventually for The Hoof Games. On top of that, she’s got the same break as we do! I was so glad she could meet us today—“

“We’re seeing her?” Rainbow stopped dead in the street. Startled at the weird tone, both Belle sisters turned and looked back at her.

“I… yeah. It was gonna be a surprise,” Sweetie Belle managed.

The jig was up. Sweetie had wanted to tell Rainbow over breakfast, but Rarity had advised against it. She had seen this reaction coming a mile away. Rainbow wasn’t going to be caught dead like this in front of Scootaloo.

“Rarity…” There was an accusation there, but mostly there was fear.

“It’ll be alright,” Rarity promised her. Their eyes locked and then Rainbow looked back down at her hooves.

“Fine,” she muttered at the ground, and they continued.

Rarity ignored Sweetie’s confused, concerned look. Instead, she kept a now solemn Rainbow Dash in the corner of her eye. Her eyes ran over the ugly bandages that bound her love’s wings. What would Scootaloo think?

As Sugarcube Corner loomed, Rarity let herself worry. Perhaps it had been a mistake. She’d built plans upon plans with Sweetie Belle, yet now she began to doubt them all. Suppose Scootaloo acted with just the right amount of alarm to frighten Rainbow off? Rarity didn’t know her that well. Perhaps she’d counted on the young athlete’s good heart a bit too heavily.

And then they were there. Pinkie bounced out to direct them to a table. She saw Rainbow and immediately dropped her order pad and caught the pegasus in a ferocious hug.

“Dashie! You came out!”

“Pinkie! Can’t breathe! Yes, I came out,” Rainbow replied, halfway between laughter and consternation.

Pinkie released her and hummed cheerfully. “I’m so glad to see you! I’d throw you a party, but I think someone else is waiting on you.”

“I… yeah.”

Pinkie noticed her suddenly crestfallen friend’s change in attitude and reacted swiftly. She hurried Dash to a table around the bend.

Scootaloo was there. Rarity was astonished at how much she’d grown. That unruly mane was worse than Rainbow’s now, and her body was slim and toned. Rarity was impressed. She also felt old. Again.

“Rainbow!” Scootaloo was up and hovering quickly before landing in front of her former idol and hugging her in a manner similar to Pinkie.

“It’s… been awhile, squirt,” Rainbow said. Over the young mare’s head, she locked eyes with Rarity. Unspoken words cross the space between them: Am I damaged goods now with her? Too late to hide.

“They told me you were hurt, but I knew nothing could keep you down!” She released Dash and took a step back, grinning wide. “Most awesome pegasus in Equestria, you know?”

“Better believe it, kid.” Rainbow’s expression was unreadable.

“I’m glad my sponsors let me skip the show in Baltimare—I just had to come back and see you. It’s been way too long.”

The four ponies came to the table and taken seats. Pinkie, who’d been hovering behind them, took quick orders and scurried off energetically.

“So, you’re doing exhibitions now?” Dash asked.

“Oh yeah! The competition season isn’t quite year ‘round, so sometimes sponsors like mine will put on shows.” She chuckled. “I think I know what you felt like, when I was a filly. I must have annoyed you so much!”

Rainbow laughed with her. “Nah, you were a cool filly, squirt. You were… enthusiastic, though.”

And Scootaloo had come through. Rarity sent Sweetie a congratulatory smile that was returned.

Talk centered mostly around the two younger mares’ lives. Dash was interested in hearing how the hard-of-flight filly had done without her own advantages. For that matter, Scootaloo’s every sentence burst with pride—the mare she’d idolized as a child thought she was cool?

I wonder if she’s thinking about Dash’s wings.

Rarity thought she was. She was trying not to look at them, and her conversation brought up mostly earthbound pursuits. Rarity knew for a fact that she could fly to some extent, but she began to suspect that Sweetie Belle had planned ahead farther than her big sister had given her credit for. If Rainbow was going to lose her flight, it would do her well to learn about being bound to the earth from her number one fan.

It was a long lunch, but Rarity couldn’t care less. She’d finally let herself relax for the first time in a long while. She’d been almost as interested in the brave young pegasus’ stories of hoofboarding stunts and races as Rainbow was.

As they got up to leave, Rainbow wrapped up her former little disciple in a hug.

“It was good to see you. You grew up well, squirt.”

“It’s good to see you too, Rainbow. I’m… I’m glad you think so.”

They released each other and grinned. Dash paused, suddenly in thought, and then asked a question.

“You know… I always wondered. Where’d that scooter go? That thing got you your cutiemark, after all! I don’t remember you leaving with it.”

“Oh. Well, I mean, it sort of broke when I was still pretty young. I tried fixing it, but it was beyond saving. It’s in the treehouse at Sweet Apple Acres.”

Sweetie snorted. “Yeah, underneath that Rainbow shrine you made when you were little!”

“Hey!” Scootaloo was scarlet. “It’s not a shrine. It’s a picture.”

“And that thing you made for Cheerilee’s class! It sure was rainbow colored.”

“Sweetie, I hate you in ways that cannot be described.”

“I know,” Sweetie sang in her most saccharine voice.

A rather embarrassed Scootaloo made her final goodbyes and headed back home. Rarity and Rainbow Dash did the same, with a humming Sweetie in tow.

***

Rarity was, to her very core, a mare of plans. She calculated; it was in her nature to do so. It is perhaps in a Lady’s nature, even. Decorum and tact.

So, it was to be expected that she weighed the words that longed to be spoken in her mind. Rainbow Dash had always been unpredictable—even before all this had occurred, Rainbow had been quick to mistake her. She loved her pegasus dearly, but she also knew that Rainbow’s pain came in only two flavors: loud and dull. The former frightened her, but was usually fleeting. The latter was terrifying.

She wanted to tell Rainbow that she’d been thinking about that night, when the two of them had laid in each other’s forelegs and Rainbow had tried to grapple with something she couldn’t put into words.

Will it anger her? To hear me speak of it? If... she doesn’t... fly... Yes, it perhaps would hurt to think on the subject.

But, at the same time, she felt like it was important. It was a part of her beloved, the passion that dwelt in her marrow and flowed in her blood. Wings or not, flying would be there in who she was. Somehow.

“How long is Sweetie’s break, hon?”

Rarity looked up, her train of thought momentarily derailed. “Oh, I believe she’s due back in Hoofington on Friday.”

Rainbow accepted this and turned towards Rarity on their bed. She closed the book she’d been pursuing and yawned. “It’s been great, Rares, having her here. She’s grown up into a pretty rad mare.”

“I agree, I’m quite proud of her. There was a time when I worried...” Rarity chuckled and thought of her little sister tangled in yards of fabric with that adorably lost look she’d perfected. “But she’s always had a gift for bringing joy wherever she goes.”

Rainbow nodded and stared up at the ceiling. A small smile crept onto her face, unexpected but welcome.

She was doing better, but Rainbow Dash was far from recovered. Was talking about flying really the best thing to do?

She felt that, perhaps, it was. She’d approach it slowly; feel out Rainbow’s mood.

“What are we reading tonight, Rainbow? I never saw the cover.”

“Oh, this?” She looked over at the book lazily. “It’s a Daring book. It’s pretty different, though. Darker than any of the ones I read when I got hurt that one time. This new writer’s taking the whole... thing, I guess, in a new direction. Daring Do and the Phoenix Pool. Not totally sold yet... but it definitely isn’t the worst one I’ve ever read.”

“I remember when you were first beginning to read voraciously, Rainbow. I was quite shocked.”

“Not as much as I was, I promise you that,” Rainbow said, her smile still lingering. Rarity paused, unsure whether to press forward. Would mentioning that night or weather work make that treasured smile dissolve? For once, let’s throw caution to the wind!

“I... was actually thinking of a time a little after that today.”

Interested, Rainbow looked over at her.

Rarity avoided her eyes and settled on her hind legs for a moment. “Do you remember our conversation about weather work? It was a long time ago, you might not remember it... I think it was the second time you... stayed the night.”

Rainbow’s little smile did not disappear. Rather, it changed into a roguish grin. “I remember a certain sexy unicorn laughing at me.”

“Oh, Dash,” Rarity said in a playful tone as she squirmed on the inside. “I did apologize. You only remember the bad things!”

Rainbow, seeing that Rarity had been outflanked, pressed forward her attack, scooting closer. “Oh, you’d be surprised. It’s not just the bad things I remember...” It came out in a light purr and despite herself, Rarity could feel heat rising in her cheeks. It was unfair—she’d taught Rainbow that, for Celestia’s sake!

But then Rainbow’s expression softened into something else: thoughtfulness. “But yeah, I remember.”

“I was thinking about the season. It reminded me of that night.” Rarity let that hang in the air for a moment, and prepared to continue on, until Rainbow spoke. Whatever she had been about to say was erased in a moment.

“I was too. I mean, not today or anything. Well... okay, yeah, I did kind of think about it today, with the time of year and all. But I’ve been... dreaming about it. I remember the last time I tried to explain this.”

Rainbow suddenly laughed. It was a sound free from the usual weight of the last weeks. “Celestia, did I really try to use sex as a metaphor for making thunder storms? That was so stupid!” The bed shook, and Rarity joined her.

“Oh, come now. It wasn’t so bad. I could see what you meant.”

“I mean, yeah, it wasn’t the worst thing ever. It makes sense. But I mean, honestly, who compares stuff like nature and making things to sex?”

“I believe generations of unicorn poets are looking down at their hooves in embarrassment before you.”

Rainbow snorted. “Whatever.”

They were silent a moment. Rarity was glad that Rainbow hadn’t retreated again into her shell. Perhaps the dark time was passing after all. Dash was very still.

Her rough voice whispered and broke the quiet. “I’m not sure I was wrong, though. It’s... flying itself is amazing. You’ve flown before, even if not very fast. I think you can almost understand it. But weather work is special for us. The words for it in the oldest Pegos are cognoi caus’a. It means... the knowing how stuff begins, kind of. My dad taught me that when I was little.”

Rarity scooted closer, listening closely. She nuzzled under Rainbow’s chin and listened to her heartbeat.

“The first time I had to work with storms, I was terrified.

“Oh, cleaning up the sky, kicking a few clouds... that stuff is foal’s play, Rares. It’s fun and safe and unless you’re Derpy, you’ll never screw it up. But storms are scary. When you’re young, they’re probably the worst thing you can imagine. It’s like... It’s dark. You aren’t sure if you can see anypony at first. It’s this sea of angry, billowing clouds. The wind picks up, and you can’t hear anything for a moment and you’re all turned around. I cried, honest to Luna.”

“You worked as a child?”

“Oh, no. I got stuck in a storm. I wasn’t supposed to be there. Dad was on duty and I just... kind of followed him. I wanted to see, you know? I think every foal has that impulse to be what their mom or dad is, and I was no different. So, I got lost in the cradle of storms. That’s what the word in Pegos for stormcloud actually means, literally. It’s a slang word, and it means cradle—honest.

“But then you acclimate. You adjust. You remember that you have wings and you start using them like you’re a pegasus and not a rock about to fall out of the sky. The wind scares you, but soon it’s white noise. The clouds look angry but you start feeling like they can’t hurt you. They won’t. You’re a pegasus, a goddess on the wing, and this is your work. Your art. I didn’t think that when I was a foal, but I felt it. It was right to be there. I was made for it, we all are. Even Fluttershy.”

“What did you do as a foal? In a storm like that, I mean?” Rarity asked, imagining a young Rainbow cast about by an unforgiving wind.

“Oh, then? My dad saw me and flew me home in his hooves. He was not happy with me. He was just scared I was going to get hit by lightning. Later on, when I started volunteering for weather work in Cloudsdale, I would always wait until there was a storm scheduled.

“Does magic make you feel alive? Do you feel it flowing through you, when you call on it, singing in your blood? That’s what the lightning was like. I could feel it in my teeth and feathers. It was the best thing I’d ever heard or felt in my life. The only thing that comes close to it? Sonic Rainboom.

“But it’s better. You’re in control. With a hoof, a wing, a well-placed kick, you can bend it to your will. This huge storm, and it’s in your power. You can tame it or make it grow. It must be what Celestia and Luna feel like, when they make the sun and moon come. It’s...” She blushed. “I said it was stupid, but I doubt I have to spell out for you why I said it was... the first time.”

“I’m seeing why, I think. Continue.” She was enthralled; it was the longest Rainbow Dash had spoken in months.

“That’s what I think I’d miss. I mean, I don’t think I’m going to lose my flying. But if I did...” Until this point, her voice had been gaining strength, filled with an awed wonder. Now, it dwindled.

“You’ll fly again,” Rarity said quietly, kissing under her jaw. Rainbow smiled.

“If I do... lose it, I mean, I think I’ll miss the lightning. We can almost control it, you know. Not perfectly, but it calls out the pegasus magic in us, like... like it’s asking to dance. Yeah, I like that—dancing. That’s exactly what it is, sometimes, in the middle of the storm. It’s a violent, hectic, passionate dance.” Her smirk returned. “Actually, that reminds me of something else—”

“You ruin your own moments. I’m almost impressed,” Rarity said dryly.

“I try.”

“But you won’t. Lose flying, I mean. You can’t.” Rarity cursed her voice and how it shook just slightly.

“Hey now. I’m the one that’s supposed to be depressed about this, remember? I’ve been thinking today. Since I saw Scootaloo. She came out fine, and she’ll never fly with grace or speed. She can get off the ground a minute or three if she strains herself. For all intents and purposes, she might as well be an earth pony. But it hasn’t stopped her. Flightlessness, I mean.”

Rarity let her continue. It was almost too good to be true.

“I really want... I really want to fly again, Rares.” Oh Celestia, Rainbow, don’t... I’m not sure either of us will be any good to each other if we just start bawling our eyes out.

“I know... I know.” Rarity moved so that Rainbow could be the one who nuzzled into her warm chest.

“But... I mean, I’ll be sad... I just...”

“It won’t be the end, if it happens.”

“Maybe.”

Maybe was going to have to be enough.

***

“It’s been awhile.”

“Too long,” Rainbow said happily.

Rarity’s hooves massaged the base of Rainbow’s wings. It was the first time she’d seen them since they’d been bound right after the two of them had escaped. The last doctor’s visit had been minor, but nerve-wracking. It was one thing to know that the doctor couldn’t make any definite statements about Rainbow’s future flying ability, and another entirely to accept it. She’d fidgeted and squirmed. She’d been paranoid, convinced that the earth pony with the scrubs had been lying to her, trying to soften some terrible blow.

They were on the homeward stretch now, as the doctor had put it. It sounds more cheerful that way. Coming home, that's a delightful sentiment.

“I missed this,” Rainbow said, sighing. Rarity had too, but she said nothing. A lady did not appear too eager for anything, after all. Decorum, decorum.

Rainbow laid sprawled out on their bed, her wings spread out for the first time in months, free of their bonds for an hour. Rarity worked beside her for the moment, not wanting to put too much pressure on Rainbow’s back for fear of pulling on some muscle connected to Rainbow’s wing. It was a foolish fear, but...

Rarity loved this. Rainbow relaxed and passively let Rarity do as she wished, and Rarity worked with all the skill and grace she could muster. There was an art to massaging a pegasus’ wing, just as there was to making a good dress. She let herself be carried away in the almost instinctual flow of work, smoothing out the tension in Rainbow’s weakened wings.

It startled her, how weak Rainbow’s wings appeared. They’d atrophied in their imprisonment, and she mourned for them.

As she always did when they did this, she let her eyes roam over Rainbow’s athletic form. It had not lost all of it’s power in her isolation. Her hindlegs were still strong and shapely, and to Rarity they had lost nothing of their allure. She’d always loved Dash’s legs—they warred with the pegasus’ wings for best part of her lover’s body in her heart. They were resilient, impressive.

Idly, almost without thinking about it, she ran a hoof along Rainbow’s right leg, up to her flank. Curious, Dash looked back at her. She only smiled. Shrugging, Rainbow went back to lying down.

How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful! There were times when it just struck her as if for the first time. There would come moments like this one, when Rainbow was finally relaxed and still, when the air was quiet and she could taste in the air anticipation. The motes in the moonlight danced and waited for something, and she knew not what.

Her eyes came to Rainbow’s wings. Atrophy was a harsh word, a cruel word. She banished it from her mind, she would not let it haunt the thoughts she held close about her beloved’s form. Yes, these wings were not the same. They seemed tired and they tugged at her heart with how they had fallen from glory, but she loved them. They were part of Rainbow. They were her own, as much as Rainbow was her own. All beautiful you are, my darling; there is no flaw in you.

Impulsively, caught up in the pull of emotions she hadn’t even begun to straighten out, she leaned in and kissed Rainbow on top of her head. Rainbow stirred.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” she replied softly, smiling. It really had been too long since they’d simply relaxed, without the spectre of Rainbow’s flight over their heads. It had been far, far too long since she’d simply... enjoyed the view, as it were.

The days since Sweetie had left had shown the change in Rainbow. The gloom had slowly left her manner, and their house seemed brighter and happier than ever before. Our house. I’ve never been able to think of it that way before. Not really, anyhow. They’d begun taking walks again through the streets of Ponyville in the sleepy hours right before night fell or when the sun had just peeked over the horizon.

She was coming back. No, Rarity thought. Perhaps she’s more here than I think. More “back” than I think.

She ran a hoof down Rainbow’s spine, right between her wings, and Rainbow sighed again, the air running over her teeth almost making a whistling noise.

Encouraged, Rarity continued. Her wings were fine. In all honesty, she was done. But suddenly she felt... separate. It was not pleasant, but she knew it was quite temporary.

The night was cold, on the border between true winter and the prelude of fall, and yet she felt warm. On fire, even. Their room danced with electricity. Her mind wandered back to two conversations about thunder and a younger Rainbow’s grasping at straws to explain something that was wordless.

Her cheeks flushed, she shook her head. Honestly, Rarity. You’re getting quite ahead of yourself. Acting like a common—

To her surprise, Rainbow folded her wings suddenly and turned over on her back before sitting up. Rarity looked into those rose eyes and felt herself pleasantly burning. It was startling, how quickly it had come upon her. This too, she supposed, had been absent.

“A long time.” Rainbow breathed quietly. A blue hoof stroked Rarity’s cheek.

“I... what?”

Rainbow flushed. “Sorry. Thoughts are a little scattered. It’s been a long time.”

Rarity paused, unsure what to say. Inexplicably, she suddenly felt shy. There was some precipice before her, some kind of line of demarcation between this moment and what she knew swiftly approached. Rainbow was beckoning from the bottom. She’d made the leap, and it was good country.

“It has,” she replied gently. Longingly. Why was she so nervous? Why was her throat dry, like she was a virgin again and this was the first time that Rainbow had ever looked at her with those soft eyes?

But no, this look was different. There was something strange about it. Something new.

Rainbow was close. Her breath was on Rarity’s cheek and then their lips met and Rarity thought of the sweetest wines overflowing from rich goblets and the smell of pomegranates in her mother’s kitchen, things she’d always loved. It was divine. Words failed her; it was not a thing for words. She thought it was a small storm caught between them, running wild.

They broke apart, breathing heavily. Thinking suddenly of Dash’s fragile wings, she laid herself back. The pegasus needed no call or signal. The intent was clear, the invitation received.

“I’m a little worried about your wings,” she murmured.

Rainbow came to her, kissing her again and setting her on fire.

“I’m not. I’m not at all, right now.”

She was ablaze. She was a ship on an ocean that held her in a ravenous grip. Love was a flood of many waters and she was drowning in all the best ways. She cried out into the night and Rainbow let her do so and then thought began to fragment. It was heady wine. A garden with closed gate, and Rainbow came to open it up and enjoy the familiar but long left untended walks.

She was spent.

They lay together in absolute silence. Rainbow sat up when she had caught her breath, and a slightly shaking Rarity helped her apply the only bandages she needed, the ones that would hold her wings in place as she slept.

When it was done, they lay in each other’s embrace. Rarity thought about what Dash had said, about her wings. About flying.

She slept easier than she had in a long time.

***

Rainbow ground her teeth together. Rarity rubbed her forehoof and gave her a comforting smile.

Yes, they had enjoyed peace in the days between her last checkup and now. Rainbow had been wrestling with her own potential flightlessness, and she could say that she was coming to terms with it. But it was hard to remember that, to come to peace with something this momentous, in the moment before it came.

Or didn’t come. There was no guarantee either way. The doctors had refused to speculate—both to keep Rainbow’s spirits up, and because it really was too early to tell. Pegasus flight relied as much on their innate magic as it did on the mechanics of their bodies. Equestria was a land of magic that few ponies could ever comprehend, and its skies were no different.

But Rainbow was trying. She had been desperate to keep herself calm while they had waited in the waiting room. No amount of homely decor and cushiony chairs could erase the anticipation completely. With every name called, Rainbow’s nervous fidgeting increased.

It had been a long hour and a half. The office was full today, and Rarity briefly wondered why on earth they had scheduled such a thing on a day with so much business. Surely it should be obvious how torturous it was, waiting for news like this! In a room that was crowded with chattering patients—

“Mrs. Dash?”

Rarity and Rainbow looked up, startled. Rainbow tensed, and stood up. Together, they followed a nurse down a long hall. She left them in one of the examination rooms, and had Rainbow sit on the cold table. Rarity sat in the corner of the room.

It was freezing. Rarity had forgotten how cold it was in the accursed little rooms these medical types favored. She’d never understood why they kept their places of business in such frigid conditions.

Rainbow chuckled, and Rarity looked back at her with interest.

“You ready?” Rainbow asked, trying her best to smirk.

“Are you?” she answered, trying to smile back as best she could. Both of them fidgeted in nervousness.

“I... well, no, I’m not. Not really. I’m not sure I really can be.”

“But...” Rarity said, inviting her to continue.

“I guess... I guess I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay, right? Either way.”

“Always, darling. I’m right here. I won’t go anywhere. I’ll be right behind you when you try to hover or whatever they’ll want you to try and do.”

“I won’t... Rarity, if I can’t... fly, will you...?” The question died on her tongue. Rarity had an eyebrow raised and an unimpressed face. Her eyes showed what she thought of that question.

“I don’t love you because of your wings, Rainbow. I love how happy flying makes you—but it’s not why I fell in love with you.”

“I know,” she said, mumbling.

The clock ticked.

“I think I’ll fly again,” Rainbow said after awhile. Her voice was calm.

“I think so, too,” Rarity replied, as firmly as she could manage.
They waited, and Rarity tried to find that peace she’d felt in the dark. Her eyes met Rainbow’s, and they shared a smile.

But not forever. No matter what they said, or how well Rainbow’s pegasus magic had fared, they wouldn’t be scared forever. She could live with that. Either way, she could live with it. Rainbow could. They had each other.

She heard footsteps in the hall, and then the door opened. The truth was coming, and she rose to meet it with a smile. It mattered. But it wouldn’t forever. The fear was ending, either way.

Of course she smiled.