The Seamstress and The Librarian

Twilight didn’t particularly care for scented candles, so many of them smelling so artificial, even despite the magic enhancements, that it was a little sickening.

But she put up with them, because Rarity made them herself, and there was very little she wouldn’t put up with for Rarity. So, she smiled past the dozen of enchanted candles—magically protected to keep the flame far, far away from the books—and slowly but surely got used to the variety of scents bursting everywhere in her home.

Except.

Except, she noticed one day, Rarity didn’t actually put on scented candles in her own home. There were candles, for sure, but Rarity’s home was devoid of floral or seabreeze or other such aromas.

“Hey,” she asked, once, while staying over, “how come you don’t light scented candles here?”

“What do you mean?” Rarity asked, reading a book. “Yes, I do.”

“...No,” Twilight insisted. “They’re unscented, aren’t they? I mean, not that it smells weird here, but it’s a normal scent.”

Not that that was a bad thing, of course. If anything, and only because she was thinking about it, Rarity’s house always smelled right, nice to a point Twilight had never even considered how it smelled until, well, right then and there.

Rarity observed her a moment before breaking into a smile. “How interesting,” she said. “Well, let me assure you, I made every candle myself, so I am very confident that each has its own aroma, including the one here.” She returned her attention to her book. “In fact, I reserve my favorite scents for the boutique. It’s over there if you want to look at the label.”

Intrigued, Twilight did as much, trotting over to a nearby bookcase and delicately levitating down the scented candle burning bright. She flipped it over, scanning the glass, only to feel her heart squeeze in her chest at the delicate inscription:

♥ Golden Oak Library ♥

And only then, her cheeks darkening, did she realize why Carousel Boutique so often felt like a second home, the scent of books and ink filling the space almost entirely.

“Oh,” she said.

“Oh,” Rarity repeated, smiling widely as she turned a page of her book. “Oh, indeed.”