Author's Note

Corejo, Exuno, HoofBitingActionOverload, nightwalker, and Vertigo-01 helped make this story better than I could on my own. They're very neat people and you should hug them if you see them. Or just give them a nod, if they're not in a huggy mood.

Joni Mitchell's "Both Sides Now" is a song about many things -- love, duality, illusions and the reality beneath them -- but most importantly is about the things that linger with you as you grow.

Thursday - Overture

When Rarity entered the room, what she saw was beauty; for Twilight, all she could see was nostalgia.

Rarity wanted to squeal or giggle or make some similarly unrefined noise, and she knew she might once she was alone enough and safe to do so, but she had to settle for taking little fluttery breaths instead. Everything was classical Canterlot, either preserved or expertly restored, and she suspected with a giddy thrill that it might be the former. The whole room was awash in luminescent pearl, refined royal purple, and what must be pure gold accents. It had all the fixtures of a hotel -- bed, writing desk, nook for eating, wardrobe, and so forth -- but Rarity had never stayed in a hotel where she had so wanted to press her mane into the downy pillows or run her hooves over the rich wooden desk or brew tea in the ornate teapot and pour it into the lovely matching cups. First thing in the morning, she promised herself, she would make tea. After combing her mane, of course.

Twilight was familiar with the white, purple, and yellow color scheme, having seen it in buildings all over Canterlot. This almost could have been her room, the room she had lived in at the castle before her collection of books had warranted a library of their own. Her bed had been much smaller -- she could probably safely flap her wings while standing in the center of the expansive bed and not touch any of the supports or even the canopy on the four-poster bed -- and her little kitchenette and far wall had been covered with bookshelves instead of holding a table and a pair of chairs and a huge tapestry erroneously depicting Starswirl the Bearded at the unification of the three tribes, respectively. She could, however, see herself writing the final copy of a paper at the desk, lamp burning, Spike asleep at the foot of her bed. It made her feel younger, smaller, like she wasn't truly a princess but a child playing at being grown-up who, for whatever reason, the adults were taking very seriously.

"Is the room to your liking, Princess Twilight?" the bellhop asked after depositing the last of Twilight's bags.

"Yes," she said, unable to shake the feeling of being regressed. She was older than this colt who had carried their things, she reminded herself. Taller, too. "It's very nice," she added, suddenly feeling a curt response would probably be read as rude. "But you don't need to call me Princess."

He just shifted awkwardly on his hooves, trying hard to not look away.

"Just Twilight is fine," she continued to resounding silence. "Or miss, I guess. If you don't remember."

Immediately she cursed inwardly at herself. Of course he's not going to forget your name. Princess.

"I can't help but notice there's only one bed," said Rarity. "I mean, not that it isn't rather spacious, but still..." She intentionally trailed off, studying the porter's reaction. Mostly she was being polite, but a little mischievous part of her wanted to see if he might imagine her and Twilight sharing a bed, and squirm a little.

"Oh, no," he said, stepping to attention, "your room is..."

He cantered to the bathroom door and pushed it open, revealing polished white tiles, golden inlays, and another door on the far side of the room.

"...Just through there, miss. They're adjoining, you see, so..."

But Rarity was already opening the door to her room, opening it to see a copy of what had turned out to be Twilight's room. She glanced back at the first room before taking in all of hers. The replication should have cheapened the aesthetics, revealing the exquisite furnishings to not be unique, but instead Rarity felt it enhanced them. That somepony had made these things, these objectively beautiful things, and then had made them again and again and again for each room, that was impressive in a way a singular creation could never be.

"Oh, my," she whispered to herself.

Watching this interplay with some detachment, Twilight unpacked the important dresses out of her bag, hanging them in order in the wardrobe -- blue, grey-blue, dark blue, very light blue. Rarity no doubt would know the exact name of each shade, as she seemed to know instinctively how to act around unfamiliar ponies. Conversation flowed from her like water downhill.

Twilight cleared her throat, thinking of the sound a large rock might make when tossed into a flowing stream. Their bellhop turned back to look at her. "I don't mean to be a bother," she said, "but can I ask for papers to be delivered to my room while I'm here?"

"You certainly can," the bellhop replied with a cheery smile. "Which one would you like?"

"The Manehatten Times, Canterlot Journal, and The Post?"

"Can do," he said with a brisk nod. "All morning editions?"

If it was unusual to ask for papers with such differing viewpoints, the bellhop gave no indication. "Yes, please," Twilight said.

Rarity strode back through the shared bathroom, a fervent glint in her eye as her gaze bounced from one small detail to the next. The porter clearly knew the answer to his own question before it had been uttered when he asked: "And are the accommodations satisfactory, miss?"

"They most certainly are," she replied, floating a gem from her saddlebags into the pocket of the porter's jacket, which earned a pair of raised eyebrows. "Would you take my things into my room? Thank you ever so much."

The colt backed out of Twilight's room, giving them both a winning smile. "I hope you enjoy your stay with us, and if there's anything more I can do for you, do not hesitate to ask," he said before closing the door.

Twilight let out a breath. "I'm glad we're done with that," she said, moving her bags off into the corner.

"What?" Rarity said, closing the bathroom door and letting her hoof linger on the gold handle. "He seemed nice."

"I'm sure he was." Twilight peered out of one of the tall windows over the rooftops of Canterlot. She wondered if she could see her castle from here, if she could determine the exact direction back to Ponyville. "I'm just done for today. I don't want to see any other ponies until tomorrow." She turned to flash Rarity a smile. "Present company excluded, of course."

"You know, you are absolutely right." Rarity stretched, leaning against the large bed. Her desire to hop up onto it was quite strong, and she tried to casually gauge if Twilight would mind if she did so. "After that train ride, I'm quite ready to just call for room service myself and spend the rest of the night in."

In the back of her mind, Twilight had been planning out the steps involved in browsing the streets around the hotel (which, like many districts in Canterlot that weren't near the main castle or one of the bigger libraries, she was unfamiliar with), narrowing down somewhere to eat, narrowing down something to order, and stepping through the awkward dance of ponies recognizing her but also not wanting to make a big scene. With just two small words, Rarity had lifted a burden off her shoulders she hadn't known she was carrying.

"Yes," she said. She could picture the city lights coming on from the vantage point of the table, could taste the simple daisy sandwich she was going to order. "That's a great idea. Let's do that."

She turned back to the window. In the distance, the sun touched the horizon. The day was almost over. It was nearly... well, twilight.

"Before we do, though," Twilight said, not looking away from the sun, "come here for a minute."

Rarity took a spot beside Twilight. She looked at her, studied her in all the time one could reasonably take with a look that could still be called a glance and not a stare. Rarity had seen a similar look of intensity in her eyes as she had in Opalescence's when tracking a mouse. She'd seen it in her own mirror when she was feeling especially inspired.

"Just watch." Her voice was quiet, masking the excitement of what went unsaid: Here it comes.

Rarity looked through the window, seeing more of her own white coat reflected in the glass than the sunset. Then the sun disappeared, given the final push by Princess Celestia, and with its passing came a brilliant flash of light, a technicolor shower that was as stunning as it was brief. A thousand, ten thousand sparks flew from the sun's passage and scattered in the sky, becoming the stars. It was night.

It struck Rarity how sudden and beautiful this phenomenon was -- like a firework, or a flower that only blooms for a day then sleeps for years. She closed her eyes, trying to preserve the moment in her memory.

"I thought you might like to see that," Twilight said. "I always did, from somewhere high up." She spoke with a fond nostalgic smile.

"I never knew the sunset could be so... vivid." Rarity considered; had she never really looked at the setting sun her whole life?

"It's stronger around Canterlot." Briefly Twilight saw in her mind's eye the first time she had watched the sun set in its full glory, saw her own wide shining eyes, her hooves clattering on the private royal balcony with uncontainable excitement, her cutie mark on her flank still unfamiliar to her after only a few days. "It's really something if you're standing right next to Princess Celestia," she added.

Rarity glanced over at Twilight once more, whose gaze lay unswervingly out of the window and over the darkening city. It was rare that Twilight spoke about her mentor in a personal way, yet whenever she did it offered a brief glimpse into how deep their connection ran. Rarity tried to imagine a Twilight Sparkle who had gone to a regular school, shot to the head of the class, and went on to study the esoteric secrets of magic, and found she couldn't do it. Twilight had always been on the path to where she was now: savior of Equestria, princess. She had always, in one way or another, been headed for Canterlot.

Canterlot had never seemed so large to Twilight, not even the first time she had visited the heart of the city proper with her parents under the very strict command to stay by her mother's side at all times and not wander off, because she could get lost more easily than she could at home. Maybe it was all this time in Ponyville changing her perception. If she walked down the main street tomorrow morning, she wouldn't recognize every face she passed. They would know her, but to Twilight they would all be strangers.

Her eyes strayed off to the side at that thought, and she found Rarity watching her.

There would be one familiar face, at least.

"Hey," Twilight said, "thanks for coming here with me."

"Don't be silly," Rarity said. Twilight could see her smile, warm and genuine, saying more than her words did. Rarity had the most honest of smiles. "I should be thanking you."

Twilight thought ahead to the three days they had coming up, the mingling, the small talk, the polite introductions, the awkward formality, the great prelude to the actual business of the First Annual Equestrian Open Forum. She remembered how quietly ecstatic Rarity had been at the prospect of putting together a weekend's worth of elegant dresses for not just herself but Equestria's newest and most prominent princess, to be seen by all the mayors, officials, nobles, and other assorted retinue that managed to involve themselves in anything large and public attended by a princess.

Twilight shared her smile. "Maybe you should," she said, sighing. "Maybe you should be the princess for the next couple of days. I've never liked... well, any of this."

"Dressing up, fancy food, garden parties, the opera?" Rarity asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Talking to lots of ponies I don't really know for short bursts for long times."

"I can see how that could be considered more me," Rarity said before pursing her lips, "but I may have a little trouble on the last day when it comes to actually discussing political matters all over Equestria."

"Oh, that's not a problem." Twilight saw her reflection in the window smile. "I could field all the questions anypony has. I could be your policy adviser."

"Well, it seems like you have it all worked out, then."

Rarity put a hoof on Twilight's shoulder, wanting to reassure her, wanting also to give her a good shove into tomorrow morning where she knew she would handle herself perfectly. Despite all she'd grown, Twilight was in some ways the same pony she had been when she'd first arrived in Ponyville, the one who had spent the majority of her surprise welcome party huddled in the loft.

"I'll stick by you, if you want. Call it being your social adviser."

"You'd do that?" Twilight asked.

"With my charm and your brains, we'll be unstoppable," Rarity said, making a sweeping flourish with her hoof out across the lights of Canterlot and feeling very much like she had just channeled some great ham of an actor. Twilight giggled beside her.

"So should we order some dinner," Twilight said, "and review our social strategy?"

"It's a date," Rarity agreed.

-/-

Twilight sat in bed, reading a book by the light of the lamp but not paying attention to it. She was thinking about tomorrow.

How does one just become a princess? How long did it take Cadance to master all the ceremonies and subtleties, both written and unwritten? Had she too gone through a period where she felt all the eyes were upon her, a fledgeling, an obvious novice, and fumbled? Or had she been gifted the luck to be born with the grace and charm of royalty? She wished she were more like Rarity, the natural social butterfly, able to read all the hidden cues and play the subtle games of patter and smalltalk where Twilight just blundered through them.

She looked up at the moon through her window, and sighed.

-/-

Rarity sat at her dresser, listlessly combing her mane with her nicest traveling hairbrush. She was thinking about tomorrow.

How does one just go about inserting themselves amongst the nobility? How long does it take before one is accepted into the highest circles of society, both public and clandestine? Had all the court risen through the same trial by fire where they were the newcomer, the outsider, and under the judgment of their betters? Or were they all simply born into it, their dams and sires determining just how high up the social ladder they began? She wished she were more like Twilight, the given leader, able to stride effortlessly into a room and project strength and resolve where Rarity had to work to feel at their level.

She looked up at the moon through her window, and sighed.