Both Sides Now

by A Hoof-ful of Dust

Rating: mature
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rarity, Romance, Sex, Twilight Sparkle
Length: 36390

While attending a royal function in Canterlot, the tabloid press mistakes Twilight and Rarity for lovers. But is it really such a mistake?

While attending a royal function in Canterlot, the tabloid press mistakes Twilight and Rarity for lovers. But is it really such a mistake?

Published 2015-09-13 17:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2015-09-25 17:50:31 UTC

Thursday - Overture

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.

Friday - First Act

The shared bathroom was, like the whole hotel, elegant and marvelous, although Rarity did have time to wonder as she combed the sleep out of her mane: just how was it practical if the two ponies in the shared suites were not on familiar terms? Perhaps that was the point, bringing strangers closer together. Or perhaps it was just a hold-over from when this hotel, like many of the older surrounding buildings, had been part of Canterlot Castle proper before Princess Celestia at some point in history reduced its opulence.

Or perhaps the rooms were reserved for dual bookings. There could be a simple explanation.

Having applied the last brushstroke to her mane, Rarity considered the door that led not to her room but to Twilight's. She wondered if she would need an excuse to open it up, to just check on her, to see if she was getting ready properly, if she needed any help. It was only a couple of hours until the first event of the weekend, after all, the open air party in the Canterlot Gardens.

Twilight would probably appreciate her help. Welcome it, in fact. She deferred to Rarity in the matter of most things regarding fashion and personal style. Of course, it was rare that she asked, given that she was a princess now and could get by on just her natural elegance, but in the instances that she did, she trusted Rarity's opinion.

So she knocked lightly on the door. It swung open with a push of purple magic, revealing Twilight pacing the room, a half-eaten bagel floating behind her.

"Come in," she said, treading back and forth on the fine rug. "The papers I asked for haven't shown up yet, so I didn't really have all that much to do with my morning, and I was thinking about getting some breakfast but I remembered the room service from last night and that was incredibly fast. So whoever is in charge of getting a dozen little bread things up to the newest princess' room, they're on top of their game." She paused and looked at Rarity. "Do you want a bagel, or a croissant, or a danish, or a... whatever those are? Why are there so many different kinds of little breakfast pastry things?"

"Twilight, dear," Rarity asked, stepping into the room, "have you had much coffee this morning?"

"No. Maybe. How much is much? No more than usual. Coffee, the room had. Enough to go with that whole spread there." She waved a hoof at the mountain of pastries. "And no," she added, noting Rarity's look, "I didn't drink it all. There's plenty left. I'm just... y'know."

Rarity inspected a puffy thing with some sort of frosting on top. "I'm afraid I don't. Well, yes, I can see you are a little... terse, but I don't know why, I'm sorry." She selected a pastry package filled with some unknown substance and sat at the table. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me?"

Twilight took the other seat. "It's this garden thing. And the other things that aren't the Forum. I just don't see the point in it all, we're not meant to be doing any discussing of policy or preparation or anything, it's all just... talking and doing nothing. Smiling and waving. I just want to skip past it all and get to the Open Forum, which is meant to be the point of this whole weekend." She dropped her head down on the table, her face in her hooves.

Rarity had an inkling of why she had invited her out of all of their friends to accompany her to Canterlot -- the real reason, not that she would most appreciate the fancy atmosphere (though that also was true). Twilight needed support, some pony to assist her in the areas where she fell short, which in this case was socializing. If Twilight had been an ancient ruler, before the unification of the three tribes, Rarity might have held a place in her court, offering her advice when Twilight lacked expertise; she found she quite liked the idea once it took form in her head.

"You know, I was thinking," she said.

She bit in to her mystery pastry, which turned out to be filled with a warm apple paste. Not a patch on anything Applejack had ever baked. She set it on her plate and continued.

"I was considering what you said last night, about being your adviser, and I think it's got some real merit to it. Not," she added quickly, seeing Twilight jump to respond, "that I should take your place, but the general idea of expert advice being available in your ear if needed. There was a word for it that's been on the tip of my tongue all morning -- do you remember that thing Rainbow Dash was talking about? About not flying solo, that a pony needed... something, but I can't recall the term."

Twilight did. She remembered the conversation vividly because she had been under the impression Rainbow had been explaining flying maneuvers in detail, when it had only dawned on Twilight more than halfway through the discussion that she had actually been using aerial terminology as a metaphor for dating.

"Wingmare?" she offered.

"Yes!" Rarity's face lit up so suddenly that Twilight almost saw it glow. "That's it. Wingmare. Twilight, let me be your wingmare."

Twilight considered. She heard Rarity's flute-like laughter, saw her summon up the perfect graceful response to a dry joke befitting business colleagues where she herself would only be capable of a forced smile. She could picture a branching array of follow-up questions ("How interesting! What is it like to..." "It must be fascinating to work with...!" "You know, I can't say I've ever met a... before!") that would sound completely natural without feeling probing or invasive or mechanically rehearsed if Twilight herself had said them. She took the awkward scenario she knew she would be in of trying to remember somepony's name that she should know but had eluded her, and solved it with a nearly-universal sentence: Have you met my friend Rarity?

She felt herself smile. "That sounds like a really good idea." She was interrupted partway by a knock at the door. "Wonder who that is," she said, frowning a little.

"Perhaps it's your newspapers," Rarity suggested. She took another bite of her pastry.

"Oh! Maybe it is."

Twilight stood to check the door. When she opened it, she was greeted by their bellhop from yesterday with three papers clutched under one arm.

The day was looking better already.

-/-

"Is there that much more news in Canterlot?" Rarity asked, eyeing Twilight covering her half of the table with newspaper before turning back to the lovely teapot, which had begun to whistle.

"Not really." Twilight shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. "I picked up the habit of reading multiple newspapers from my father. He swore by it, said it was the only way to know what was really going on."

"Wouldn't you end up reading a lot of the same stories twice?" Rarity came back to the table, setting down a steaming cup of tea.

"Mm-hm," Twilight said around a mouthful of bagel. "But the slant on the reporting is often very different. The Journal's editor-in-chief supports Princess Celestia to a fault, the Times is more progressive and takes controversial stances on issues for the purpose of creating a debate. They sort of cancel out each others' biases." She shrugged, and took another bite. "It's fun."

"I see," Rarity said. "What's the third paper?" She nudged one of the open newspapers, which had a greenish tinge to its pages.

Twilight chuckled. "That's my guilty pleasure reading. The Post picks up some interesting stories that actually do turn out to be true, but it's more a case of a stopped clock being right twice a day than anything else."

Rarity glanced at the open page. Although it was upside-down, she was able to read the enormous headline -- THEY TOOK ME BEYOND THE STARS! -- and the smaller subheading claiming Local Stallion Reveals Otherworldly Creatures Live Among Us!

"Twilight," she deadpanned, "this is a tabloid. And not an especially good one, at that."

"Oh, yeah," Twilight agreed. She took a sip of her coffee. "It's the worst. I don't think you could find a single pony who reads it who takes it seriously. You might even have a hard time with the ponies who write for it, for that matter."

"Could I take a look?" Rarity asked, curious as to what could be interesting to Twilight in such pulp.

"Sure," she said, spinning the paper around. "I really only have time for proper news this morning, anyway."

Rarity skimmed the headlines, each more incredulous than the last. CRAGODILES FOUND IN MANEHATTAN SEWER. MY VAMPIRE BAT-PONY LOVER. THE HIDDEN HISTORY OF CLOUDSDALE -- REVEALED! "And this is real news, sometimes?" Rarity asked, skeptical.

"Well, you do have to read between the lines a little," Twilight admitted.

Rarity shot her a raised eyebrow, which earned a laugh.

"Okay, a lot, but... see here?" Twilight tapped the page with a charcoal drawing of an elegant mare swooning for a menacing shadow with heavy wings and gleaming fangs. "There's been a huge uptick in bat-pony stories recently, while all the respectable news has to be pushed into even admitting they exist. It lets ponies experience something new and confronting with a safe buffer of knowing that it's just the Post, everything they print is fabricated, so when the actual news has something real to report, everypony's hungry to learn the truth."

"Shouldn't you know the truth already?" Rarity said with a mischievous smile. "Being a princess and knowing all these national secrets and all."

"Pfft. I don't think even Princess Celestia knows what they're all about. They're Luna's thing."

"So you're saying she might make some big official statement soon about exactly where they come from, something like that? Because of what this paper is printing." Rarity had forgotten the intense flurry of speculation that followed Princess Luna's last public appearance riding in a carriage drawn by two mysterious bat-ponies. It was odd, how one could just overlook things that had, even for a brief moment, seemed so important.

Twilight shrugged. "Or it could be nothing. Most of the Post's big leads are nothings."

Rarity turned another page, finding a scattering of smaller articles. One of them stood out to her, one that could not be classified as 'nothing'. It was not a nothing article, because it was about Twilight.

Or, more correctly, Twilight and herself.

PRINCESS ARRIVES WITH ESCORT IN TOW! blared the headline.

Rarity's eyes narrowed as she rapidly read through the brief story.

Last night Princess Twilight came to Canterlot -- and she was not alone! Sources say she and her "friend" were quite cozy while checking in... what could be going on in their shared suite, we wonder? Hm...

She cleared her throat and turned the Post back to face Twilight. "There's something you may want to see," she said, tapping a hoof to the page.

Rarity watched Twilight's eyes scan the paper. She expected shock. Outrage. Confusion, fretting, worrying that all of Canterlot would think she was up to something untoward when they retreated to their hotel.

Instead she laughed.

"What did I tell you?" Twilight said. "It's dumb. If the Post ever prints something true, it's an accident."

Rarity breathed a sigh of relief. It was good that Twilight could disregard some distractions. She had enough to handle already.

"You're right," she said. "Not a word of that is true."

"We're not even sharing a room." Twilight finished off her bagel and went back to her serious newspaper.

Rarity turned the offending page with her magic, intent on putting the silly article out of her mind. But although she read a dozen or so stories in the back section of the Post, she would have been hard-pressed to recall any details about them.

-/-

The royal gardens were, for lack of a better word, big.

Their entire area spanned a semi-circle around the edge of the mountain, forming a skirt at the base of Canterlot Castle. The westernmost area was heavily wooded, home to many flocks and herds of simpler animals that had their own run of the dense forest. It stood in the mountain's shadow until late in the afternoon, covered in trees that stood close together and dense underbrush that threatened to trip and tangle, parted by dutifully maintained roads that followed the curves of the mountain that had existed long before there was a Canterlot. Rows and rows of greenhouses populated the eastern section, all uniform from the outside but each containing a separate controlled ecosystem: here dry Badlands sands, there bubbling marshes, another with frozen northern tundra, all carefully maintained with magic. Their sheer number was visually impressive, but to ponies not in possession of a key to open the dual sets of doors at either end of each structure they were little more than a momentary curiosity.

The main, central section, the place that most ponies considered the royal gardens proper, more suited casual visitation, be it from a pair of ponies wanting a pleasant stroll or a mass outdoor gathering. A great marble fountain formed the centerpiece of a large flat expanse carved into the mountainside, with rows of bushes and beds of flowers radiating out from it in all directions like rays from the sun. Ponies dotted the entire gardens in clusters of threes and fours, while red-jacketed loners Rarity recognized as castle staff flitted from group to group with trays of bite-sized food.

"Somehow," Rarity said, taking in the stretching flat land of the gardens as they reached the top of the long staircase, "I had expected... more."

"More?" Twilight asked.

More of what, she was not exactly sure. Aside from the size and the number of attendants, the garden party seemed remarkably simple, like they could have been out the back of some pony's cottage at Ponyville instead of a mere hop, skip, and jump from Canterlot Castle. Perhaps she had been spoiled by Pinkie Pie and her unending well of enthusiasm for parties.

"More... pomp and circumstance, perhaps," she settled on at last.

"Princess Celestia pushed for today to be very relaxed, very informal," Twilight said. "Puts everypony on equal standing."

"That would explain things, yes." Rarity made a mock pout. "I almost feel overdressed now."

Twilight considered Rarity's outfit. It was a vibrant yellow dress that reminded Twilight of buttercups. It was simple as far as she could see, very uncomplicated as far as Rarity's personal designs went, but came with a broad and slightly translucent sunhat in a similar color, under which Rarity's mane was packed in a mass of curls held in place partly by hair products Twilight hadn't recognized and partly by a spell she hadn't known had existed. To Twilight she looked as she always did: composed, refined, beautiful.

"Impossible," she said with a smile, and Rarity shared it with her. "But I do hope you saved the good stuff for Sunday night."

"Well, it would be poor form to show up underdressed to the opera," Rarity said, but something told her this wasn't precisely the point Twilight had been trying to make.

Further discussion of the exact levels of dress one should employ for royal functions, low-key or otherwise, was interrupted by a deep male voice calling: "Twilight!"

Rarity turned to see Twilight's brother and Princess Cadance hailing them from beside a nearby rosebush. Twilight trotted to Shining Armor and embraced him, neck to neck.

Cadance gave a mischievous look which, in the few times Rarity had met with her in an unguarded, pressure-free situation, seemed to be quite common. She bowed low to Twilight and addressed her: "Her Royal Highness Princess Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship and ruler of Ponyville."

Twilight returned the bow with solemnity. "Her Royal Highness Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, Princess of Love and ruler of the Crystal Empire."

This alternative to that little song-and-dance that was equal parts adorable and nauseating was perhaps a little more befitting of royalty, Rarity thought. But at the same time, she found she missed Twilight hopping about and chanting about sunshine and ladybugs. Perhaps it was marginally more adorable than nauseating.

Shining rolled his eyes, and encouraged Rarity to do the same. Cadance and Twilight giggled, spoiling the illusion that they had the same kind of unflappable composure as the elder princesses.

"Is everypony else from Ponyville here?" Cadance asked, looking briefly around.

"Unfortunately, no," Rarity said with a wan smile, "it's just us two."

"Oh. Well, that's alright, it was you I most wanted to see."

"Me?" Rarity pointed at her chest with a hoof.

"Yes, I never did get to properly thank you for your help with the Equestria Games selection committee." Cadance glanced off into the distance. "We were all a little tight for time that day."

Rarity laughed. "Oh, that's quite alright. Assisting a princess with her beauty routine is its own reward." She tipped her head, indicating the bun in Twilight's hair. "As you can see, once one gets the taste for it, it can be quite difficult to stop."

"I can see how."

Her gaze lingered on Rarity, and for a moment she thought she had committed some kind of minor social faux pas. But then Cadance sighed and swept her gaze around the gardens.

"But," she said, "we should be making the rounds. We shouldn't be monopolizing each other's get-to-know-a-princess time."

"You're right," Twilight said, and broke her princessly demeanor to hug Cadance and her brother briefly. "Have a good rest of the day, you two."

"You too," said Shining. "Hey, check the Post tomorrow, okay?"

"Oh, I will," Twilight said, grinning, and Rarity wondered if this had a special significance for the two of them."I'll look for you tomorrow," Cadance said as they parted.

Rarity waited until the couple was safely out of earshot. "Those two are cute," she said, though she suspected they were aware of just how cute they were.

"They are," Twilight agreed.

"And..." Rarity deliberately bumped into Twilight's side as she began to walk slowly towards one of the more populous sections of the gardens. "...That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Twilight rolled her eyes. "That was Cadance and my brother," she said without humor. Then she noticed the look on Rarity's face, somewhere between bemusement and pity. "And, that was you making a joke."

"Trying, at least."

"It's appreciated." She huffed a breath that would have blown back part of her mane, had it been in its natural state. "Your target just has her shields up."

Rarity saw the opportunity to change the subject. "You made mention of getting dressed up for the opera," she said. "Moreso, I mean. How come?"

"Oh. Well, that's going to be mostly Luna's doing." Twilight tracked a waiter that had crossed her path as she spoke. Was there something unusual about him? Or was it just her imagination? "She wanted a very formal approach to the whole weekend, and Celestia compromised her into taking control of the opera night. She has something planned for it, something big and impressive."

"Like what?" Rarity asked.

"I don't know." Twilight shrugged, continuing to stare at the waiter. Had she seen him somewhere before? His cutie mark was a blot of ink at the top of a scroll -- not quite fitting for a waiter, but neither were the marks of half the ponies in the red jackets. "But I'll be willing to bet it warrants a nice dress."

"Hungry?"

Twilight blinked. "Hm?" She wondered why a dress would make her hungry.

"Well," Rarity said, gesturing with her hoof to Twilight's waiter, "you've kept your eye on that plate of hors d'oeuvres..."

The waiter made a path towards them, and Twilight swallowed. Wordlessly, he approached them and offered his plate to Rarity, who took one of the colorful and ambiguous morsels. His light brown coat and dark brown mane both seemed to Twilight like they were nondescript on purpose, like somehow his special talent was blending in to the background. She could have run into him through her whole life and not remembered a single meeting.

"And you, Princess Twilight?" he asked. His voice, like his appearance, offered no clue.

Twilight held up a hoof and shook her head. "No, thank you."

He made his exit just as unobtrusively as he had arrived. Twilight noticed Rarity watching her, and that she likely would have had a question were she not occupied with chewing.

Shelving the mystery of the waiter, she pre-empted Rarity's curiosity. "There was a function once, when I was a little filly," she explained, "where I discovered that you could just take as many of those little things as you wanted. I was about a dozen or so past what should have been my limit before I spent the rest of the night in the bathroom trying to not be sick. I've never really had the stomach for them since."

Rarity blanched. "I'm not sure I do now, either."

"Sorry," Twilight said as she gave Rarity a smile.

"Well, if you weren't hungry, then why--"

"Princess Twilight Sparkle!" a thunderous jovial voice boomed from over Twilight's shoulder.

Twilight and Rarity turned to see a tall unicorn stallion barreling down upon them. He stood nearly as high as Big Macintosh with a coat in a more violent shade of red, with a heavy angular jaw and neatly-parted mane.

"Big Apple," he said, introducing himself with a cursory bow, "Mayor of Manehattan, but I'm sure you knew that already. And this is my wife, Brownstone." He indicated an earth pony by his side who could have been easily mistaken for his shadow.

"And I am Rarity, from--"

"From Ponyville," he said, laughing. "Yes, know all about you, too. Read all about your, ah, dress store in the Ponyville Express. Took out a subscription once the word got out about there being a new princess in Equestria. Did the same thing when that whole Crystal Empire business happened, but, ah, just between us..." He made a show of leaning close, and lowered his voice to a theatrical whisper. "...I think I like the sound of Ponyville better. Nice, quiet place. Simple living, simple folk, good old down-to-earth community."

Twilight had to restrain herself from physically biting her own tongue. Quiet? Between magical disasters, Discord, and Pinkie Pie, quiet was one of the last words she would have used to describe Ponyville. "It is quite nice," she said, finding something she could easily agree with.

"But, ah..." Big Apple seemed at a momentary loss for words, but something about it felt disingenuous to Twilight. Put on. Rehearsed. "It is a little... how would you put this... out of the way? That's the exact thing you look for in a summer getaway, but for a princess... Now, I don't mean to be too forward, but have you ever thought about moving?"

"I had not." And she hadn't, not even when her castle had been at its most uninviting and she had terribly missed the creak of the wood and the smell of the books at the Golden Oak.

"Well, you should really give it some consideration! I think you would love Manehattan, being right at the center of the beating heart of Equestria, so many ponies looking for the guidance of a princess right at the tips of your hooves. There's really nowhere else in the world like it; whatever you want, if you look hard enough for it, it is there. Of course, I'd be willing to put in a good word to the right ponies, see you saw the city in the best light, but..." He shrugged and made an off-hoof gesture, then gave Twilight a conspirator's smile. "...You wouldn't need me to do that for you, am I right, princess?"

"I already have somewhere to live," Twilight said, and her thoughts childishly added: It's a castle. Made of crystal.

"Well, of course you do, but, ah, you know what they say: location, location, location, right? If you are ever interested, come see me, and we'll work something out. Manehattan would love to have you, even just as a part-time resident."

A stunned silence followed in Big Apple's wake as he and his wife departed. Twilight could feel her expression frozen rigid on her face, a kind of bemused puzzlement.

"What an ass," Rarity hissed under her breath.

The strangled sound of Twilight's double-take pleased her almost as much as aiming a choice bit of vulgarity at Big Apple while he had stood with them would have.

"I don't think," Rarity continued, "I've ever heard so many underhoofed comments come out of a pony with such a wide smile. Twilight, I do hope you're not upset by any of the multitude of horrid things he just said."

"No, not really." Twilight made to brush her mane away from her eyes, but on finding no mane there settled for itching her ear instead. "I, um, sort of expected something like that, actually. Big Apple has been kind of... not subtle about his opinion that there should be a princess in Manehattan."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, it shows up in the news from time to time. Not front page, or anything, but it's a recurring theme. A reporter caught him saying it was ludicrous how Princess Celestia assigns new royalty to the backwaters of Equestria, once." Twilight scoffed. "As if that's the way it works."

"B-backwater?" Rarity was almost lost for words. "Ponyville may not be as fancy and grand as Manehattan, but--"

"Oh, no, this was about the Crystal Empire," Twilight said. "Which didn't really have much of anything until it rematerialized from wherever King Sombra trapped it, so 'backwater' isn't completely inaccurate."

"Wait a moment, you don't agree with any of this nonsense, do you?"

Twilight shook her head. "No. I understand where Big Apple is coming from, that's all. I don't agree with him."

"And you're fine with all of these slanderous attacks on..."

Rarity had been about to say your home, but something stopped her. Ponyville wasn't Twilight's home, not completely. She had been born in one of the outer suburbs of Canterlot, Rarity knew, and had done most of her growing up in the heart of the city. It had been less than a year and a half since Twilight had moved in to the old library.

"...On where you live?" she finished without too large a pause.

Twilight shrugged. "I like where I live," she said with a smile, "and there's nothing Big Apple could say that would get me to change my mind about that."

"Well, that works out wonderfully," Rarity said, "we like having you live there."

"Oh, look," Twilight said, focusing on a pony making a bee-line for them across the gardens, "here comes another one. At least he's coming from where we can see."

"How does a pony that large sneak up on you?" Rarity asked while the newcomer was still out of earshot. Twilight chuckled.

The new pony -- a cloud-grey pegasus with a pencil-thin mustache, a rouge's smile, and a pair of flying goggles slung jauntily around his neck -- greeted them with a bow more formal than what was needed. Twilight nodded to him, a formal acknowledgement that she had seen Princess Celestia use many times on ponies she passed by during their lessons; she felt maybe she might need a couple centuries of practice before it felt natural.

"Princess Twilight, if I may be so bold, I noticed your outfit from all the way over by the hydrangeas and I just had to drag myself away from the excruciatingly fascinating subject of Zebrican imports to inquire: who is your designer?" His words ran together with liquid grace, stretching and leaping like a ballet dancer.

"As it so happens," Twilight said with a smile, "she's right here."

The pegasus' eyes lit up at he glanced over to Rarity. "But of course! You must be Rarity. The style, the sophistication, the proximity to Twilight Sparkle, it could be none other."

Rarity gave him a demure smile. "Guilty, as charged." She liked him; the way he had dropped Twilight's title, unintentional or not, felt natural, more genuine that all of Big Apple's airs of familiarity. "But I'm afraid I'm not so familiar with you, mister...?"

"Banks," he said, "Fair Banks, but give it a couple of moons and there won't be a pony in Equestria who hasn't heard of me, not to be letting the cart lead or anything. I'm in the pictures, you see, the moving pictures, and I have on my hooves the exclusive directorial rights to the biggest story the screen has ever seen. It's got it all: Adventure! Suspense! Romance!

"But! My costume designer walked off the set last week, something about that she wanted to be working in a more serious medium and that she was going back to Bridleway, but I'm not bitter, all water under the old bridge."

He sucked a deep breath through his teeth.

"Anyway, that leaves a big hole in my crew waiting to be filled by somepony with a sharp eye and sharper needle, and here I happen to run across the up-and-coming designer, the pony whose name is on lips all over Equestria. And my horoscope said today was a day for caution and restraint."

He threw his head back to give a sharp laugh -- a single theatrical "Ha!" -- and refocused his attention on Rarity, eyes dancing.

"I couldn't tell you just what the story is, confidentiality agreements and all that, but you would be designing costumes for ancient heroic warriors, ponies from exotic locations around the world, and..." Fair Banks held his hoof up to the side of his muzzle, making a big pantomime show of telling a secret. "...Relic hunters with pith helmets, if you catch my meaning, wink wink."

"Wow, that sounds like a great opportunity, Rarity," Twilight said. "You should take it and definitely not let anything slip about what's happening on set to any friends you might have who are big fans of ponies with pith helmets."

"A thoroughly convincing argument, on both your parts," Rarity said. She realized she was lost for words, and she found the feeling of struggling for a direction to lead the conversation quite strange.

A stack of business cards appeared in Banks' hoof and disappeared just as quickly as Rarity took one. "I'm staying at the Saddleton, we can get some coffee while the big political meeting for big political ponies is happening. You don't have plans then, do you?"

"I do now."

"Marvelous! Talk more then, don't need to be taking up any more of your mingling time, and I'd better be getting back to doing my sworn duty as a plus-one. Continue to have a wonderful day, ladies."

As Banks strode back across the grounds to fall in at the side of a mare with a mane so long and straight it almost brushed the ground, Rarity glanced at his card. That had been almost effortless. The chance to attach her name and, more importantly, her artistic flair to something that might be seen all over Equestria had just leapt onto her plate. She wondered what her horoscope had to say on the matter. Opportunities await, perhaps.

"I wonder what book is getting adapted," Twilight mused.

"Shouldn't it be the first one?" Rarity asked. It was easier to speak to Twilight than to struggle to comprehend the enormity of somepony approaching her, wanting to work with her, because they knew her name and she was unaware of theirs.

"Well, you'd think that, but there's important information in the spin-off prequels that might make a composition of those a better starting point, and there's also an argument for beginning at the second installment because of the difference in tone between..." She trailed off as she noticed Rarity staring at her. "Sorry. I forget sometimes that not everypony is as big a fan of Daring Do as I am."

"Now, now, you don't know for sure that's what I'll be working on," Rarity said, allowing herself a nervous grin.

"Uh huh. Anyway, that's a huge deal for you, isn't it? Shouldn't you be, I don't know, freaking out or something?" Twilight nudged Rarity's shoulder. "Freak out a little."

She took a quick breath. "Relaxed as this pleasant mid-morning gathering is," Rarity said with measured voice, "I don't think it would be quite appropriate for me to be freaking out."

"You are on the inside though, right?"

Rarity glanced at the card again. "A little," she said.

"I wish I was coming with you, now," Twilight said.

"I'll tell you everything, I promise. Even if it turns out to be some other pith-helmeted relic hunter."

They were walking slowly between two rows of bushes, headed towards the big central fountain. The distance between the shrubbery narrowed, driving them subtly closer.

"No, no, not like that. I..." Twilight shrugged. "I don't know, I like seeing things behind the scenes. How it all works. It's more interesting than the finished product, sometimes."

Rarity noticed one of the waiters hovering by the fountain. He was serving an animated quartet chatting with Princess Luna, yet he looked right in her direction.

"I was part of a theater troupe when I was in school," Twilight said. "I ran backstage for a couple of the productions. Acted in some of them, too."

That was a surprise. Rarity imagined Twilight had only ever been interested in learning about magic, but the theater took all types. "I can't quite imagine shy Twilight Sparkle up on stage," she said, trying to observe the waiter out of the corner of her eye.

"Well, I did plan to just be in the crew. But there was an illness one night when we were doing The King of Shetland, and I was the only pony who knew the lines. It was a small part, but being on stage wasn't so bad. It wasn't like I was me, I was the character whose costume I was wearing." Twilight shrugged. "It also doesn't hurt that you can't really see the audience from under the stage lights."

"Were you any good?" Rarity asked. The waiter and thoughts of Twilight made up for a performance and reciting lines fought for her attention.

"I was okay. I liked playing different characters, stepping outside of myself and understanding their motivations and all that stuff. I'm not sure I was any good at it, but I liked doing it."

Was she doing something unusual? Was something caught in her hat? Maybe he was just a little starstruck by Twilight, but that was a little far-fetched for the catering staff for a royal event.

"You should try that now," Rarity said, looking over at Twilight and trying to push the insistent waiter out of her mind. "Play the part of Twilight Sparkle who likes big social events."

Twilight laughed. "No, I know what her motivations are, and she doesn't care for them."

"Well," Rarity said, "you're doing a pretty good job fooling me. Maybe you're a better actress than you give yourself credit for."

"I think my partner should take most of the credit," Twilight said. "I'm just smiling and nodding."

"Darling, that's what we're all doing."

-/-

The morning wound on until, just as the sun was reaching its zenith in the sky, Princess Celestia gathered all her guests and thanked them for attending the first of the events leading up to the Open Forum. Twilight let out a breath when the speech started and closed her eyes, picturing walking down the stairs away from the garden, and in minutes she was doing just that. That was the first day down. She'd made it.

Two more to go.

"What shall we do with the rest of the day?" Rarity asked her as they descended the stairs together. "I heard about a lovely little flower stand and café that I've been just dying to visit, and--"

"Actually," Twilight cut in, "I was kind of thinking I'd just go back to the hotel. Maybe read a little." She glanced at Rarity. "That's okay with you, right?"

"But of course, dear! Being in Canterlot must be old hat to you by now." She gave Twilight a broad smile. "I'm quite capable of exploring the city on my own."

Twilight smiled back. They had reached the base of the stairs. "That's good." She gave Rarity a quick hug. "Meet back at the hotel?"

"Certainly."

"Enjoy yourself," Twilight said, walking off away from the gardens.

"I shall," Rarity said, watching her leave.

She was free to roam all of Canterlot, see whatever sight, browse whatever boutique in the beautiful old city. She looked at it all spread out before her, and took a deep breath.

It was quite difficult to choose, she found.

Saturday - Second Act

Twilight heard humming from the bathroom, which signaled Rarity was nearly finished with her morning beauty routine. Using her magic, she tapped lightly on the closed door. "You can have breakfast with me again, if you'd like," she said, "I got enough for both of us."

"Certainly," came the reply, "just give me a moment to finish."

Nodding to herself, Twilight turned the page of her newspaper. She only managed to make it into the second line of the story before Rarity emerged, coat brushed, makeup applied, mane just so. A fleeting thought crossed her mind if her own morning routine, which was combing her mane until it didn't look like mice were nesting in it, would be good enough for Rarity.

"You might appreciate this," Twilight told her, indicating one of the open papers. Rarity leaned over her shoulder to see what Twilight was pointing to: a cartoon, etched in sharp black lines, depicting Big Apple dressed up as the Statue of Harmony, holding up a torch and clad in a robe. The caricature had a pair of obviously false cardboard wings and a pained expression on his face, and doodles of the four princesses snickered at him from the sidelines.

"That's quite a good likeness of you there," Rarity said with a smile, tapping the charcoal swirl that represented Twilight.

"Really captures my eyes, I thought," Twilight said, playing along.

Rarity browsed the collection of pastries, selecting a croissant. She put the kettle on to boil, despite the smell of Twilight's coffee being particularly alluring this morning.

"Tch," Twilight clucked from behind her.

"Hm?" Rarity sat at the table where Twilight was absorbed in an article; she recognized the greenish tinge of the Post's papers.

Twilight looked up at her. She seemed surprised; perhaps she wasn't aware she had made a noise.

"Oh," she said, "just this."

She pushed the Post across the table, and Rarity turned it around to read as she took a bite of her croissant.

A blown-up photograph, grainy and colorless, showed herself with her mouth close to Twilight's ear, obviously taken on the sly at the garden party yesterday morning. If it had been a normal picture, focused and not taken from behind some bushes somewhere, it would have been an unremarkable candid photo; the poor quality image and poorer quality paper it was printed on made it seem automatically as if the two ponies in the picture were conspiring, or at least being secretive in some fashion.

The headline was spectacularly unsubtle in what conclusion it wanted its readers to draw. TWILIGHT SPARKLE'S SECRET SUITOR?, it read.

Rarity scanned the article, phrases leaping out at her: close friend or cozy companion?; inseparable for the entire event; whispering and giggling like schoolfillies; a pony-tale pairing -- the princess and the small-town dressmaker.

Wrinkling her nose, she turned the paper back around to Twilight, who was giving Rarity a cheery smile.

"Old material," Twilight said, with complete nonchalance. "You'd think there wasn't much value in repeating themselves, but that's the high standards at the Post." She peered down at the newspaper, still smiling. "Maybe I should feed them a story like Shining does, tell them we've been cursed and we've swapped bodies or something."

"Your brother makes up nonsense like this?" Rarity asked.

"Oh," Twilight said, closing the paper. "Yeah, you didn't see the cover."

Rarity read at the headline: WHO WEARS THE PANTS? -- Crystal Empire's Prince Spends More Time In Frocks Than His Wife, Says Source. It overlayed a picture of Shining Armor glancing away to the side, clearly as much of an indication of guilt as if there was actual evidence of him ever having worn a dress.

"He does this all the time," Twilight said. "Once, he convinced them that King Sombra was still alive, and Cadance was keeping him locked up in the basement as her love-slave."

"It doesn't..." Rarity cleared her throat. "...Doesn't bother you, that the paper just lies like that?"

"No, why should it? I mean, we're not really having... what did it say?" She flipped back to the piece about them. "'A clandestine tryst beneath the noses of the Equestrian electorate.' It's just the Post."

"No." Rarity glanced at the kettle, seeing the wisps of smoke pouring from its spout, and stood. "I suppose you're right."

She picked up one of the beautiful teacups and turned it back and forth, but her hooves barely felt the smooth surface and her eyes didn't see the pattern of flowers. Twilight had just ignored the silly story -- why couldn't she? Part of it was seeing a falsified romance sharing space with nonsense tales of bat-ponies and sewer-dwelling monsters and otherworldly visitors in the night. It made out that the idea of Twilight's fictional courtship was just as nonsensical. Why? Romance grew strong out of a bed of friendship. If Twilight fell for any of her friends, it would come as no surprise to Rarity.

But that wasn't all the piece was insinuating, was it? It was about Twilight the princess and a mostly-nameless dressmaker, a pony with no colorful pedigree who should be grateful royalty should be even giving her the time of day. It didn't read at all like she and Twilight were friends, but more like she was some fetching commoner who had caught Twilight's eye who was being taken on a whirlwind romantic tour of the high life in Canterlot. No mention that she had designed for Sapphire Shores, or that her work had been given approval by Hoity Toity and Prim Hemline. No hint that Princess Celestia knew her by name.

It read like she was an outsider intruding above her station.

This small-town dressmaker is good enough for a princess, she thought, as clear as if she had said it out loud.

And then an idea came to Rarity, a kind of stunning serendipity that she would have only thought possible when deep in the creative zone. A threefold solution that would give Twilight some more confidence in their upcoming social engagement, build herself a little more cachet in the fashion world, and play a peevish little joke on the Post.

"Twilight," Rarity said, turning to her.

Twilight looked up from the Journal and her mostly-finished breakfast. There was a look in Rarity's eyes she couldn't quite decipher. A little dangerous, almost. Interesting. Intense. Intriguing. But still dangerous.

"...What if we were a couple?" she asked, her head cocked artfully to one side, her long mane cascading down her neck.

Twilight stared. She could feel her brain locking up. Had Rarity just asked her out? Had she been giving off some romantic signals she wasn't aware of? Had she--

"I mean," Rarity continued, "it's not so unreasonable to think, is it? It's almost plausible. I dare say we could do a fair job at making everypony ask themselves if we were or not."

A half-formed checklist crossed Twilight's mind before she realized that, before planning just how they would pull this off, there was an important question in need of asking: "And why would we do that?"

"Because it would be like putting on a play," Rarity said with relish. "You'd be playing the role of Twilight Sparkle, trying to keep her relationship with her friend Rarity a secret. You'd have to stay in character the whole weekend, all through the trip on the airship and the opera, but when it was all done..."

She took a sip from her teacup, the steam wafting before her eyes.

"...You could go back to being yourself. Performance over, curtains closed." She leaned back to watch the gears turn in Twilight's head.

Twilight saw herself at the opera beside Rarity, both in their elegant dresses, making their laughter a little too personal, making their touches last a little too long. Watching everypony else to see if they were seeing it. Listening to their questions for the real questions behind them. It would be like a big game, and none of it would mean anything. She could just set it all aside, come Monday morning. No. Rarity and me? That's silly. Did you see that piece in-- yeah, they'll print anything. A trivial distraction for a night of triviality. It was fitting.

Rarity saw the days after, with the rumor given suitable time to take on a life of its own and reach out to the right places. It could open doors for her if she was, temporarily, Rarity the consort of a princess rather than just Rarity from Ponyville, and those doors wouldn't shut once she clarified how she was just simple Rarity the close friend of a princess, either. Oh, it's just dreadful, how the gossip spreads, isn't it? No, Princess Twilight and I are just friends, although we are quite close, I can see why ponies started to talk. We would make quite a striking couple, would we not? The whitest of white lies. It was perfect.

Twilight didn't even realize she was nodding until she noticed Rarity smiling at her, like a cat pleased with itself at the mouse it had finally cornered. A similar expression spread across her own face.

"That," she said, "is a really good idea."

-/-

"How long have we been together?" Twilight said, breaking the silence. Watching herself transform in the mirror was interesting but slow-going. She hoped Rarity could talk while fixing her mane.

"What do you mean?" Rarity said around a bobby pin held in the side of her mouth.

"Well, if we're going to pretend to be a couple," Twilight said, letting Rarity tug her head into the correct position, "we should have a little backstory to work with."

"You really do take acting seriously, don't you?" Rarity said with a smile Twilight couldn't see.

"A little." Twilight watched herself smile involuntarily in the mirror. She wondered if Rarity noticed. "It's practical, mostly. We can keep our stories straight. Be on the same page. Whatever the metaphor is. So, how long have we been seeing each other?"

"A short time, I think. It's all very new and exciting."

"Do our friends know?"

"Yes. No, wait, no. Let's keep it to just us."

"Wow, so a really short time, then."

"They might suspect, though." Rarity stuck the bobby pin in place, trying to imagine which of their friends might notice a change between her and Twilight first. Her conclusion after a brief moment's thought was 'not Rainbow Dash'.

"Why are we keeping things a secret?" Twilight asked. "Maybe you don't want all the scrutiny from the press?" But as she said it, she knew it didn't sit right.

"We're just seeing how things go between us before we say anything official," Rarity said. She rose, and was able to see the reflection of Twilight's face beside hers. "We're just testing the waters."

Twilight glanced off into some indistinct point in the mirror, a serious expression of thought crossing her face. "Mm, that makes sense." She turned her head to look at the real Rarity, and asked her with a cheeky grin, "What do you like most about me?"

"You make me smile," Rarity said without missing a beat. It was a simple reason, but believable: Twilight was an especially easy pony to get along with, once her shell was broken a little. Effortless. Very easy to connect with. "What," she said, and swallowed, "what about me? What does the Princess of Friendship see in a humble dressmaker?"

Twilight studied Rarity's face for an immeasurable length of time. It seemed like Rarity should go back to working on her mane, but she wouldn't until Twilight gave her answer. Maybe she couldn't. Or maybe it was only a brief moment, a quick blink, as Twilight's brain tested and discarded an array of responses in tandem, time slowing as she searched for the one that lit up the brightest.

"You're genuine," she said at last. Some mounting sense of pressure released as Rarity disappeared behind the other side of her head. "You want everypony to be the best version of themselves. That sort of altruism is... not many ponies have that."

A silence fell between them. In it, Twilight realized she had been saying something she really did admire about Rarity. Well, that was an admirable quality, wasn't it? If she was attracted to Rarity, that would be something she would be attracted to.

Rarity stood behind her and gave her a nudge. "Come on," she said, "let's take a look at you."

Twilight stepped back from the mirror so she stood beside Rarity. Her dress was the dusky blue of an overcast sky, light and long. Rarity had pinned parts of her mane up so it stuck up into the air like some exotic flower. It looks haphazard and random, but Twilight knew if she attempted such a style with her mane it would less like an artful mess and more like an actual mess.

Rarity's dress was a purple the color of heady wine, with a hat to match. She looked to Twilight like an elegant lady, a refined aristocrat for whom an afternoon sojourn on an airship was commonplace, pedestrian even, and it suited her. Twilight herself felt like her reflection was an impostor, a Twilight Sparkle who was pretending to be more sophisticated than she was able.

"We look ready for our first date," Rarity proclaimed, turning to grin at Twilight.

There was something else she was pretending to be, Twilight remembered. Perhaps it was fitting that it felt like she was about to go out on stage.

She looked at Rarity, nervously smiling. "Shall we, Lady Rarity?"

Rarity giggled. "Lead the way, Princess Twilight."

-/-

The Heart of the Sunrise sat docked at Canterlot's highest air-port, her massive crystalline prow looming over the gathered crowd like a breeching whale. She was the largest ship to sail the skies, large enough to comfortably carry the weekend's entire political congregation on her broad deck. Her hull gleamed in the sunlight of the cloudless sky, fused turquoise and aquamarine extracted from deep within the caves beneath Canterlot, and her balloon, a mauve and vermilion behemoth strapped in place with yards and yards of bright golden rigging, bobbed and swayed almost imperceptibly in the minute breeze.

Twilight walked up the gangway in silence, Rarity by her side. Just how would she feel, were she in a relationship? A secret relationship, at that. She was awful at keeping secrets. Well... no, that wasn't completely true. She was only awful at keeping them when she had to lie to keep them, when somepony asked her a question she knew the answer to and her "I don't know" sounded false and dishonest. If she was dating, privately, that might not be anypony's business but hers. And her significant other. But that didn't solve the matter of how she would feel, only how she might act. Perhaps she wouldn't feel all that different, either. Maybe she'd walk with just a little more confidence in her step, speak with a little more sureness in her voice, knowing that her secret special somepony was watching out for her.

"Nervous?" Rarity asked as the reached the Heart of the Sunrise's deck.

Twilight shook her head, clearing her thoughts. She had been far away, deep within herself, and for a moment coming back to the brisk mountain air and the dull roar of the crowd below was jarring.

It's like I missed my cue, she thought, and gave Rarity a smile.

"A little," she admitted.

"Perfectly reasonable," Rarity said, "though there's no need to be, darling. I promise, I'll stay right by your side the entire afternoon."

She'd been going about getting into character completely the wrong way, Twilight suddenly realized. It wasn't just any pony who she was in love with, it was Rarity. Her friend Rarity, who she trusted completely and who already was keeping her company during the tedious parts of this conference. She could be a little nervous, but there was absolutely no reason to worry.

Twilight laughed, a little at the situation and a little at herself. "Thanks for being here with me," she said.

"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you."

They had made it over to the far side of the deck. Twilight looked out over the strake, down to the long distance between the airship and where the slope of the mountain resumed. "I mean it," Twilight said, resting a hoof on the polished blue-green surface. "It's really nice to have some pony here to keep me grounded. Although--" She tilted her head to indicate over the edge. "--Maybe grounded isn't the right word to use, right now."

"No, Rarity said, watching Twilight lean a little over the lip of the ship, "perhaps not."

"I used to be really scared of heights, did you know that?" Twilight asked.

Rarity had not. She couldn't imagine Twilight with illogical fears, things she couldn't rationalize into submission. Other ponies, especially when present in large crowds, were chaotic and unpredictable; Rarity thrived in that kind of spontaneity, but she knew not all ponies did, so Twilight's aversion to socializing was somewhat understandable. But heights had that same kind of exhilaration, of being made to feel small when all around you was so large, when you could see clear out to the horizon; provided one was on stable footing, being far off the ground was fun.

"But then I just got over it, all of a sudden," Twilight continued, "after I got these." She gave her wings a small stretch before folding them neatly back against her sides. "I mean, can't really be scared I'll fall if I can fly, right?"

"Not if you have trust in yourself, no," Rarity said, thinking a little of Fluttershy.

"It's strange," Twilight said, turning to look at Rarity, "how something like that can just change overnight, isn't it?"

Rarity smiled at her. Was this Twilight acting, being more forthcoming with personal information about herself? It was sweet, a very heartfelt approach to courting that was a pleasant change of pace from coy flirting and none-too-subtle compliments. "It is strange," she agreed. "We change all the time, on the inside, but it's always little by little so one never truly noticed unless one looks."

A bell sounded, a deep clanging chime, signalling a lift in the activity on the deck of the ship. The crowd moved away from Twilight and Rarity's side of the deck, fanning out along the port side.

"I think we're setting sail," Twilight said. "Taking off? Can you set sail, without a sail?"

"We should go wave to the crowd," Rarity said, brushing Twilight's flank with her tail.

"Right," said Twilight, grinning sheepishly, "right."

-/-

The crowd at the dock grew smaller and smaller as the Heart of the Sunrise took to the skies. Twilight waved with the rest of the passengers, bidding farewell to nopony and everypony. Rarity held her hat in her hoof and let it flap in the wind like a flag.

The main engines came to life with a cacophony of pops and sputtering before settling in to a deep thrum, a rhythmic churning that made the whole ship seem like a living thing with a mighty beating heart. The dock and the crowd on it fell from view until all of Canterlot was visible from the Heart of the Sunrise's port side with a single glance, the entirety of the old noble city spilling down the side of the mountain like an intricate tapestry.

"Quite a sight, isn't it, Princess Twilight?" a calm voice asked from by her shoulder.

Twilight turned to look at the mare who spoke. She had a long brown mane that hung flat, nearly reaching to the deck of the ship, and a vivid floral dress; Twilight recognized her from not only her studying the mayors all over Equestria, but from the other day at the royal gardens.

"It's very impressive," she said. "I've never seen Canterlot like this before."

"So I take it you never traveled by airship, when you lived here?" the long-haired mare asked. Twilight recognized the purpose of the question immediately: I know your history. I read up on you. And I want you to know I did.

She shook her head. "Always balloon, and they land much lower down. But," she said, pouncing on an opening in the budding conversation, "I'm sure this couldn't compare to seeing all of Las Pegasus from the skies."

The long-haired mare gave her a thin smile. "I see you have done your homework, Princess Twilight."

"That most definitely goes without saying," Rarity interjected with a polite laugh, offering her hoof.

The long-haired mare shook it with business-like efficiency. "Sunbeam," she said, "mayor of Las Pegasus."

"And I am Rarity," Rarity replied, "close friend of Twilight Sparkle and her companion for this weekend."

Twilight thought she might have seen a little reaction on Sunbeam's placid face at how Rarity very intentionally didn't address her as Princess, but it was so slight it was possible she imagined it.

"I believe we saw you," Rarity continued, "at the gardens."

"Then you no doubt also saw my companion for the weekend," Sunbeam said, "drumming up support for his film project."

"We did," Twilight said. "He was quite..."

She searched for a neutral verb, as Sunbeam's dour tone suggested she wasn't as impressed with Fair Banks as he undoubtedly would have wanted.

"...Lively," she settled on.

"A pleasant euphemism for irksome," Sunbeam said, her thin smile returning.

"No, no," Rarity said, "his project sounded most interesting. I'm having a meeting with him later to discuss it, as a matter of fact."

"Forgive me." Sunbeam closed her eyes, her smile broadening but becoming visibly less genuine. "It's me that finds his liveliness irksome, which I believe is only natural when a pony is bent on discussing his business in thoroughly non-business settings, like this lovely cruise here. I've no doubt he finds me as frustrating to be around as I him, so that's probably why he's made himself scarce." She glanced around, as if Banks would appear from behind her.

Rarity and Twilight exchanged a quick glance, unsure what to make of this.

"So," Sunbeam continued, "in the interest of the spirit of this event, I shall leave all my pressing questions to you, Princess Twilight, for Monday." She pushed away from the ship's strake, clearly bowing out of their conversation.

"It was lovely to have met you," Rarity said with what sounded like genuine enthusiasm.

"Yes, it was," Twilight agreed with what felt like perfunctory niceness.

Sunbeam dipped her head, the tip of her mane managing to graze the deck. "Continue to enjoy the trip," she said as she departed.

"She was a little... brusque," Rarity said in a voice meant only for Twilight.

"Funny," Twilight said, "that's the exact phrase that I had written down about Sunbeam. Brusque."

"It was awfully nice of her to leave us to our pleasant cruise together though, wouldn't you agree?"

Twilight giggled a little at their secret, their multiple layers of deception. "Very. Maybe she could tell we wanted some alone time."

Rarity looked around the deck. "That seems to be what everypony else is doing. Keeping to themselves, I mean. Though, I don't blame them." She swept her eyes over the horizon. "This view is amazing."

Scanning the vast swath of Equestria that she could see, Twilight had to agree -- fields and farms and little patches of woods stretched on in all directions away from Canterlot for what looked like forever, broken by the occasional stone wall or railroad track. The Heart of the Sunrise hadn't left Canterlot far behind, and Twilight could see where tracks wound through a dense cluster of houses before climbing up the mountain.

"I think I can see my old house from here," Twilight said, trying to imagine its location relative to the train tracks.

"Ooh, where?" Rarity asked. She leaned with Twilight over the edge, their shoulders brushing.

Twilight pointed to the houses, small as miniatures, and said, "Okay, see there? Right about--"

A violent updraft took her words from her, as well as Rarity's hat.

Rarity gasped, and watched it fly away like an errant leaf. She had just enough time to lament her outfit being incomplete before Twilight seized the hat within her magic, floating it back down to rest on Rarity's head. While she tilted her hat back to make it sit better, Rarity realized that she was sharing a gaze with Twilight, both of them staring at each other with little idea of what exactly to say next.

The moment was broken by the sound of applause, one pony stomping their hooves on the deck.

Twilight turned to look first, Rarity following with her eyes quickly after. They had impressed an older stallion, old enough that his cropped mane and the bristling mustache that hung to his square jaw had faded to grey. He wore a uniform, the exact rank Rarity didn't know, but he must have been terribly important by the number of medals and stripes affixed to the breast.

"Bravo!" he cried, striding across the deck to meet them. Rarity noticed that he walked with a slight limp in his hind leg, and how it didn't affect his grandfatherly smile. "Splendid reflexes, Cadet Sparkle."

"Sir," Twilight said, smiling back, "thank you, sir."

The stallion dipped his head, once to Twilight and once to Rarity. "General Ironclad," he said, his voice gruff and dusty like pipe smoke.

"Rarity." She sketched a brief curtsy. "Should I address you as sir," she asked with a mischievous smile, "or is that only required of service members?"

"Only service members," Ironclad said, "and our newest princess here. For you see, Princess Twilight trained under me in the art of warfare and tactical deployment, and a fearsome good student she was. It's regrettable she never elected to continue her studies in any other military discipline, she would have made a fine officer."

"We played chess," Twilight clarified, "when I was a little filly."

"Which is the perfect encapsulation of strategy and tactics. How to hide your motives while your enemy sees your every move! How to plan not just from move to move but for the game's end! Should be required for all recruits, I've said for years."

Rarity found she could perfectly picture this grizzled veteran sitting opposite a precocious filly and running her through the rigors of chess, but not quite the circumstances that led up to such a meeting.

"You know," Rarity said, "I don't think I've ever played chess." Cards were her mother's forte -- she was an especially sneaky bridge player -- and Rarity had osmosed more hoofball trivia from her father than she ever needed.

"Then you, young lady, shall have to ask Princess Twilight to teach you." Ironclad's eyes lit up like coal lamps on a clouded night. "Fantastically simple game to learn, devilishly tricky to master. Equestria needs more ponies skilled at the fine art of chess. Though I do warn you: Twilight is terribly good and absolutely ruthless, so you will have to caution her to take it easy on you for the first, oh... dozen matches, I should think."

Twilight looked off to the side, clearly a little embarrassed at this praise. "I'm not that great. I'm okay."

"She's beaten me," Ironclad said, puffing out his chest of medals, "and that's a feat I can say very few have ever accomplished."

Rarity beamed at Twilight. "Then it seems I would definitely be in good hooves."

"Indeed you shall, young lady, indeed you shall."

"You must show me when we get home, darling," Rarity said.

The conversation took a brief hitch. It lasted less than a second, but was felt by all. Rarity watched Ironclad react, wrestling with her statement: was that just a friendly endearment, or was there something deeper? Just what was meant by home: was it back to Ponyville, or was it one of their personal homes that the other spent a lot of time visiting, because they were...?

Instead of pursuing any momentary curiosity Ironclad may have had, he turned his attention to Twilight. "While we are on the subject, I am awaiting your next correspondence, cadet."

Grinning, Twilight said, "I sent it just before I left, sir."

"Aha, then it should be on my desk by sundown, provided it hasn't been intercepted by the enemy." He lowered his voice and spoke through his bristly mustache, feigning serious concern over Twilight's mail being captured. "So, do you have the nerve to trade your princess for a unicorn, just for a momentary opening in the fifth column?"

"You'll have to wait and see, sir," Twilight said with a smug and guarded smile.

"You see?" Ironclad focused on Rarity again. "Ruthless!" He roared with laughter. "I shall expect a full debriefing on your attempts at training a fresh recruit, cadet."

"Sir," Twilight said, "yes, sir."

"And, incidentally." He tapped a hoof to the side of his muzzle, indicating silence, while giving the pair of them a meaningful look. "Your secret is safe with me."

Twilight frowned. "What secret?"

"Mm, what secret, indeed." He smiled to himself, his mustache curling. "Dismissed, cadet."

And with that he turned and began to march away, leaving a very puzzled Twilight in his wake.

"My," Rarity said, "he is certainly quite a character. Wouldn't you say, Cadet Sparkle?"

Twilight rubbed the back of her neck with a hoof and laughed to herself. "He was my brother's instructor when he joined the royal guard," she explained. "This was before Ironclad became a general, obviously. I may, in a moment of wanting to be exactly like my big brother, have insisted he be my instructor too, and playing chess was the compromise. He taught me the basics while Shining was running laps, and after that we played by mail. Have for years."

"Ah, so that's what that was." For the first time, she saw Twilight as something she had never thought of her as before: somepony's little sister. Rarity had a little sister. But Sweetie Belle was nothing like Twilight. Then again, Sweetie Belle was a very different pony too, sometimes, when she didn't know Rarity could hear her, so maybe there was some common, little-sister bond she and some aspect of Twilight shared.

"And all the time, I've been a cadet," Twilight said. "You know, because I never graduated from my training."

The image of filly Twilight playing chess with General Ironclad came back to her, this time with an ill-fitting helmet perched on her head to make her look like a real soldier. "That sounds lovely," she said, "a very sweet gesture."

"He's a pretty sweet guy, underneath it all," Twilight agreed. "I wonder what he meant by my secret."

Rarity glanced sidelong at her. When Twilight didn't respond, she cocked an eyebrow at her.

Twilight's eyes went wide; that they would be discovered so easily clearly hadn't occurred to her. "You don't think...?" she asked.

"Maybe he read it in the Post," Rarity suggested, not completely sure if she was serious or joking.

"Maybe it was you calling me darling."

"I call everypony darling. Darling."

"Yes, but he doesn't know that."

-/-

The Heart of the Sunrise took a slow, lazy arc around the area surrounding Canterlot, a trip that took nearly the whole afternoon before she was pointed back in the direction of the mountain. On the return leg, the ship rose high into the sky, far above the highest tower of Canterlot Castle, parting through the gathered clouds and rising above them, the billowy ephemeral tops spread out beneath them like a white ocean.

All attention on the ship drew to Princess Cadance, who had cleared a space for herself to address the crowd. Twilight knew this was going to be a short speech thanking everypony for their attendance, hoping they were enjoying themselves, wishing them a pleasant night tomorrow at the opera, and so on. She knew the major points but planned on listening anyway, until she felt a hoof tap on her shoulder. She turned to see her brother had appeared behind her and Rarity, wearing his dress uniform.

"Hey," he said, keeping his voice below the level of the crowd and the wind.

"Shouldn't you be listening to your wife?" Twilight asked in a similar hushed voice.

"I've heard this one already," Shining said. "Cadance tested it out on me."

Rarity listened to the siblings talk, finding the way Twilight's tone changed when she was speaking with somepony she was familiar and comfortable with fascinating. She wasn't a completely different pony, but she was different. She was less guarded, the quiet conversation neatly bouncing back and forth between her brother like a shuttlecock.

"I saw you messing with the Post again, by the way," Twilight said.

Shining chuckled. "I made the front page this time. Not too bad."

"You should have worn a evening gown today, it would have really sold the story."

"I'm saving that for tomorrow night." He took a quick breath. "I didn't know you were pulling one over the Post too, you should have told me."

Rarity glanced back at Shining, giving her eyelashes a calculated flutter. "Whatever makes you so certain the story was planted?" she asked, leaving Twilight's brother with his mouth hanging open a little.

"And now," Cadance announced, raising her voice and cutting off any further questions Shining might have had about Rarity and Twilight's relationship, "I believe it's almost sunset."

From their places in the crowd, Celestia and Luna both spread their wings. A corona of light surrounded the princesses, warm and golden for Celestia, liquid silver for Luna. The sun sank below the clouds, guided down by the two sisters, and disappeared for just a moment before its light dropped below the horizon.

Then the stars came shooting from beyond the edge of the world, streaking across the sky like rockets, each one landing in its designated place with only a fading contrail of light to show it had ever been moving.

The crowd gasped in awe, and a babble of voices broke out as ponies turned to their neighbors to comment on the display. From the snippets of sentences she could hear, Rarity could tell this was a first-time occurrence for many of the passengers, which gave her a strange warm feeling in her chest. Somewhere between pride and having a secret.

"Oh," Twilight said, still looking up at the stars, "I hadn't known they were going to do that. If I did, I might not have pointed it out the other night."

"I'm glad you did." Rarity huddled closer to Twilight, as not to be overheard. "Knowing what was going to happen... well, it was like knowing something just for us."

Twilight gave her a look Rarity couldn't decipher. "Yeah," she said, "it is a bit like that."

Perhaps she was thinking of the same secret Rarity herself had on her mind.

-/-

As the Heart of the Sunrise sank into the clouds in the dark, Rarity and Twilight once again found themselves alone by the edge of the ship. When Canterlot came into view, Rarity couldn't contain herself. The city was lit with ten thousand pinpricks of light, a glittering, sparkling beacon in the dusk. The whole mountain looked like a diamond, shining with its own inner light.

She seized Twilight's shoulder and drew in a breath. "Oh, Twilight," she said, "it's beautiful. I never knew Canterlot could look like this."

"Neither did I," Twilight said, sounding stunned.

Together they watched the mountain and the castle on its peak draw inexorably closer as the light of the sun faded to nothingness, the lights guiding the Heart of the Sunrise home.

Twilight looked away so she could murmur into Rarity's ear. "How's this for a first date?" she asked, smiling at the side of her mouth.

"First rate," Rarity said. "The best I've ever been on, in fact."

Straightening up and turning back to Canterlot, Twilight felt two emotions at odds with each other inside of her. One was pride, for hearing she had done something as good as it could be done never got old regardless of the source. The other was a kind of soft pity, that nopony had ever been able to give Rarity the kind of pony-tale romance she sought after.

She deserved it, after all.

Saturday - Backstage

Rarity poked her head into Twilight's room. She hadn't seen her since returning from the air-port, respecting her desire for space and time alone and all the things the introverted princess needed, but that had been hours ago; she was ready to prepare for sleep, and was a little curious with what Twilight had been doing in her room.

To her lack to surprise, Twilight was on her bed, surrounded by open books.

"Knock knock," Rarity said, stepping through the door. "I wanted to see how you were doing in here."

Twilight bookmarked the tome she was reading from and rubbed her eyes. She glanced at the clock on the wall, a solid marble disc ringed by golden pips. "Is that the time? Huh. Guess I got kinda carried away here."

Rarity surveyed the vast landscape of books Twilight had with her. She had no idea how she had even fit all of these in her trunk and still had room for anything else; possibly there was some magic involved. "I'm glad I'm not attending the Open Forum," she said with a smile, "I don't know how I'd get all the background reading done."

"Oh, this isn't for the forum, it's for tomorrow night."

"But that's the opera."

"Yeah."

Rarity took a look at the cover of one of the few closed books (Understanding 'The Underworld'), and raised an eyebrow at Twilight. "All this?" she asked.

"Well, I was going to just read through a few synopses of the plot and a couple of the more popular interpretations, maybe a little bit on the history of the famous productions, but..." She shrugged, and held her hooves a short distance from each other. "Little carried away."

"Isn't that a little like... I don't know, spoiling things for yourself? You'll know all of what happens before it happens."

Twilight shrugged. "It's not as if somepony told me the end of a book I hadn't read. The opera's a little different. It's more... I don't know the stories are a little broader. It's an older form of storytelling, most of the plots are pretty well-known even if you've never been inside a theater. It's not really about seeing something new."

"So what is it about?" Rarity asked, moving to glance over Twilight's shoulder to the page she had bookmarked. It showed a stylistic image of two mares, one light and one dark, mirrors of each other, with a stallion caught between them.

"The individual production. How the director chooses to interpret things, how good the performers are, that kind of thing."

"No, I mean, what is this particular opera that we're seeing about? I can't say I'm familiar with the title. Tell me about it." She flashed Twilight a smile. "Think of it like a pop quiz after all your studying here."

Twilight smiled back, and folded all the books shut and gathered them in a towering stack with her magic. She patted the empty space on the bed, and Rarity hopped up next to her and settled herself. She was close enough that Twilight could smell her perfume, jasmine and honeysuckle, which she wasn't completely certain Rarity had been wearing aboard the Heart of the Sunrise.

Twilight cleared her throat. "Okay, so the opera is about a shepherd who goes to rescue the miller's daughter who's been captured by the queen of the faeries and taken to the Underworld. That's the title, 'The Underworld'."

"Do they have names, these characters?" Rarity asked.

"Sometimes. The names change from production to production, sometimes they're not used at all. There's only those three characters, anyway."

Rarity nodded. "Alright."

"So, the shepherd, he thinks that if he rescues the miller's daughter, she'll see him as a big hero and she'll love him and they'll marry. She's the prettiest mare in the village, and he's never had the courage to talk to her."

Twilight spoke to the inaccurate tapestry on her wall, seeing it but not really seeing it; she was more focused on Rarity out of the corner of her eye, who was looking at her with undivided attention.

"I see what you mean," Rarity said, "about knowing the plots without needing to see it yourself."

Twilight grinned at her. "Yeah. Pretty cliché, really. So he goes down into the Underworld and he runs across her pretty quickly, but there's a cave-in or a magical ward or a tommyknocker or something -- that's something that changes from production to production -- that they can't get around to go back the way they came, so they have to go further into the Underworld to get back home.

"So they're traveling together, and the shepherd finds out the miller's daughter is really great! She thinks he's funny, she's tough and clever and they're really getting along together, it's almost like they're not in terrible danger the whole time. Then the big twist comes when they come across the real miller's daughter, who's in a prison deep in the Underworld, and the shepherd has been led there by the queen of the faeries who used her illusion to take the miller's daughter's form. She reveals herself and laughs a bit at how gullible the shepherd is and leaves him to his fate trapped in the Underworld."

"Interesting," Rarity said, shifting a little on the bed. She could see how this story would lend itself to a stage production. She could most clearly see a big costume change for the pivotal moment when the humble miller's daughter revealed herself to be the wicked fae queen, common cloth tossed aside that had been concealing iridescent jeweled finery.

"The shepherd gets right on trying to escape, and he figures out a way out of the prison pretty easily, and he wonders a little why the miller's daughter hadn't escaped yet. But he finds out when they try to get out of the Underworld: she's nothing like what the queen was pretending to be. She's selfish, and she's mean, and she's uncooperative and spoiled, and he's getting more and more fed up with her the closer they get to the surface."

Rarity, thinking briefly of Prince Blueblood, said nothing.

"So they get to the hole where the shepherd came in in the beginning, and the queen of the fae is waiting for them, looking like the miller's daughter again. And she asks him: do you really want to save her? She's been nothing but terrible to you. We had a real connection, I like you. Be my king and we can look for more ponies to bring down to the Underworld."

"She's probably lying," Rarity said. "Faeries are like that, aren't they? Tricky, and seductive."

'Seductive' wouldn't have been the word Twilight would have used -- fae, in stories that fell closer to oral tradition than modern re-imagining, were capricious and mercurial tricksters who would hoodwink mortal ponies according to whim -- but it seemed fitting when Rarity said it.

"Well," Twilight said, "that's what the real miller's daughter tells him. You should save me because I'm a pony and so are you and that's where your loyalty should be. And they argue back and forth, which is the big closing movement, until the shepherd tells them to stop."

"So who does he choose?"

"You don't know." Twilight looked at Rarity, aware of how little distance there was between them. "The last part is him emerging above ground with one of the miller's daughters, but they don't have any lines, and that's the end. It's meant to be ambiguous."

"Hm." Rarity tipped her head, considering. "So it's a story about love, then. Is love more important than duty? If the queen is telling the truth, that is."

"It can be. I saw it as being about just what pony virtues are, and how you can find them in beings that aren't ponies -- the miller's daughter is pretty terrible, and the shepherd has lots of reasons to really like and respect the queen -- but I was reading about one very long production that was formed as a very off-kilter love story, so there's no one way to interpret things."

Rarity had been about to reply, but was stifled by a loud and most unladylike yawn, which made Twilight giggle.

Smiling back at her, she said, "I suppose that means it's time for bed, then."

"Guess so," Twilight said.

A moment passed between them where no sounds were heard save for the ticking of the marble clock. Rarity was the one who ended the silence, by sliding gracefully off Twilight's bed.

"I wonder what spin tomorrow night's version will have," she said as she stepped to the door. She was still smiling.

Twilight smiled back at her, a little part of her wanting Rarity to stay. "Me too," she said instead. "That's the fun of retelling old stories."

There would be more time to discuss the opera after they'd seen it, anyway.

Sunday - Third Act

The morning's edition of the Post sat on the table between them. Neither pony had read it, neither mentioned it, but both were thinking about it as they went through the motions of breakfast together.

Rarity finished off her cup of tea.

Twilight folded the Journal in half.

"Shall we--" Rarity began, moving her hoof.

"Do you want--" Twilight interrupted, also reaching.

Their hooves touched over the front page of the Post, bringing an abrupt silence.

A smile spread across Twilight's face. Rarity laughed a little, and Twilight joined her.

In unison they silently browsed the paper. Twilight scanned the headlines for mentions of the Open Forum and found only a lengthy interview with an anonymous source that claimed, among other things, that the gathering of the mayors in Canterlot was nothing more than a front for the changeling spawning season, it being accepted as fact by the interviewer that all the ruling parties in Equestria were in fact disguised changelings. Rarity skimmed over the pictures, searching for Twilight or herself; she did spot a piece involving the Heart of the Sunrise, but all that turned out to be was the fanciful claim that it was a method for Princess Celestia to spray the unsusepcting population with invisible mind-controlling gas.

The last page turned, they looked at each other.

"Nothing," Rarity said, her statement giving the whole endeavor a queer sense of finality.

"Maybe we were too subtle," Twilight mused, tapping her chin with her hoof.

"Maybe." They were at somewhat of an impasse now, Rarity thought. Forward or back? Press on or cry off? She was reminded a little of the shepherd's dilemma, of whether it was better to choose something unknown and dangerous over familiar and unsatisfying.

Twilight glanced at the cover of the Post and shook her head. "I don't know if I'm relieved or disappointed."

"Me either," Rarity said.

She caught Twilight's gaze and they stared at each other for a long quiet moment, stuck, waiting for a choice to be made.

"You know," Rarity said slowly, "it does seem quite a shame to go to all that effort and have nothing to show for it."

"That's what I was thinking," Twilight said, calmly nodding her head. "And there's still tonight to put on a bit of a performance for everypony."

"That there is." Rarity glanced out the window, over a Canterlot covered in long shadows from the rising sun. "We'll just have to try harder this time," she said with a cryptic smile.

"Yeah," Twilight agreed.

That was all they spoke of their faux relationship for that morning, but it did leave Twilight wondering idly through the day: just how would they try harder?

-/-

Rarity fussed just out of Twilight's view of her in the bathroom mirror, doing something to her mane to keep it in place. This round of preparation had been the longest, and the most quiet. There was tension, where there had been none before. Twilight had initially thought it was due to the setting -- the opera had a shade more protocol and presentation to it than the garden party or the flight on the airship -- but she found her thoughts returning less to making an etiquette mistake and more to Rarity's suggestion that they be more convincing in their fake relationship.

Just how would they do that? How did you make something hidden more obvious? Maybe if she thought of it like they wanted somepony to notice, but they could still have the room to play anything off as just being good friends. Like they were flaunting their secret in front of everypony, daring some lone voice in the crowd to pipe up and declare the emperor's new crown was nothing more than a bird's nest. She kept thinking back to her theater techniques, but so far they were failing her. For a play, she would have lines to learn; real life was rarely so forgiving.

"I think," Rarity said, snapping Twilight out of her thoughts, "that we are finished."

She drew herself up level to Twilight, examining her work. Twilight's mane was pinned around her neck in a simple criss-cross, as not to distract from the tiara she wore. It was reminiscent of her crown, silver instead of gold, set with sapphires deep like the ocean. They complimented the midnight blue of her dress, which was simple and unfettered with accents or frills. It was sleek, straightforward, regal. Like Twilight herself.

Her own dress was black, a sharp contrast to her white coat which had plenty of freedom to be on display. Rarity had straightened her mane, letting it provide natural color to her ensemble, letting it hang evenly by her shoulders as if perpetually wet. She had aimed for elegance through simplicity, employing less-is-more in every facet of her designs, suggesting nobility and refinement rather than stating it outright, and oh my, how she had succeeded.

"Every eye is going to be on us tonight," Rarity said to Twilight's reflection.

Twilight turned her head this way and that, studying the finished product. She judged herself just as beautiful and put-together as Rarity always was. It was an odd feeling. Like she had just put on a mask and was preparing to perform.

"Rarity," Twilight said, turning to face her instead of her reflection. She knew the rest of her sentence, the question she wanted to ask, but it wouldn't come out of her mouth. It was lodged in her throat, stubborn.

"Yes, Twilight?" She smiled. It was a kind smile, open, welcoming. It made the space safe.

"...How did you mean we should try harder?" The feeling of being a student again washed over her, asking a question she didn't already suspect the answer to.

"Oh, darling." Rarity's smile took on a note of sympathy. "Is that why you've been so agitated this whole time?"

So she had noticed. Twilight had thought she was keeping her feelings fairly well-masked. So much for that.

"I just meant," she continued, "we might stand to be a little more..."

She placed a hoof on Twilight's shoulder, gently, softly, while not looking away from Twilight's eyes.

"...Physical."

A memory came back to Twilight, watching from the wings as a director ran her actors through a series of exercises up on the stage. They weren't vocal exercises or anything to do with character -- nopony had even seen scripts yet, she recalled -- but trust exercises: falling so another pony would catch you, short team games, being guided around obstacles on the stage while blindfolded, that sort of thing. The director had explained at the end of the day, after no lines had been read and no roles assigned, that being comfortable as a group was crucial to bringing the right atmosphere up on the stage, and Twilight had scoffed from the wings and had been glad she didn't have to run through the foolish routines.

But she hadn't known any of these ponies. They had been strangers, unknowns she had become more familiar with by the time she gained the courage to step out onto the stage herself in front of a waiting audience. By her last performance, she might have been willing to give that director's silly exercises a try.

Rarity was no stranger. She could trust her with a lot more than to catch her, were Twilight to faint into her.

But, like in the theater, they had to have rehearsals before the curtain ever went up.

"We should..." Twilight swallowed. "We should practice a little. So we're comfortable."

"Of course," Rarity said. Her hoof was still resting on Twilight's shoulder. "It wouldn't be awkward, if I...?"

She took a step towards Twilight, moving close enough that they were face to face. If they bent their forelegs at the same time, they would collide. Twilight had to straighten up her neck to not have her muzzle bump into Rarity's, and Rarity got a good sense of just how much taller Twilight had become since becoming an alicorn. Rarity was right inside her personal space. She had been this close to Twilight while fixing her mane, but with their eyes so close like this, with their lips close enough to easily meet, it was significantly different. Charged. Ripe with possibility.

"No," Twilight said in a low voice, quiet and perfectly audible. She brought her own hoof up and brushed back Rarity's mane, revealing her ear. The touch caused prickles to break out all along her neck. "And if I whispered something in your ear..."

She leaned in to Rarity, her lips lightly grazing her ear. Rarity felt her soft breath.

"...Would that be alright?"

Twilight had been murmuring asides to her for the whole weekend, but this was something else. Rarity had felt her words, intimate and private, a hushed missive for her and her alone. Finsing the right way to reply was quite difficult.

"Th-that would be alright," she managed.

She drew back, and Twilight did also. Had Rarity put that much color in Twilight's cheeks, when she was applying her makeup?

Forcing a smile, she said, "We are friends after all, darling."

"That's all completely normal between friends," Twilight agreed. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

"We could even," Rarity said with a tilt of her head, "push a little further."

Twilight blinked, surprise and curiosity in her dancing lavender eyes.

"If you were comfortable with it, darling."

"I..."

She leaned in to Rarity again, slow like the landscape had passed beneath the Heart of the Sunrise.

"...I think so."

Twilight had tipped her head too, counter to the direction Rarity had gone. There was so little distance between them. Air from Twilight's nostrils played softly over the pelt of Rarity's muzzle.

They were in the right position. Just an inch or two more, and they would kiss. They could kiss here, in private, and nopony would ever know. They could share a kiss as friends.

Rarity touched her hoof to the side of Twilight's muzzle, partly to steady her, partly to steady herself. "You," she said, her voice feeling uncooperative, "you don't want to smudge your makeup."

She felt Twilight tense beneath her hoof, heard her suck in her breath. "That's true," she said, practicality and reason returned her her voice. The moment had come and passed.

"And it would take too long to reapply," Rarity continued. She pulled back from Twilight and took a deep breath.

"And we don't have time for that." She glanced through the open door to the clock.

"We should be going, in fact."

"We don't want to be late."

"It would be bad form to keep anypony waiting, wouldn't it?" Rarity asked.

Twilight gave her a shaky smile. "Especially for a princess," she said.

Rarity smiled back at her, and within a minute they were headed for the lobby, the front door, the night at the opera.

-/-

The opera house sat in the heart of the city, a great dome visible from all of the streets above it and, due to sheer size, even some of the streets below. It had began life as an open air amphitheater, serving as both a forum for public gatherings and a stage for public performances. Little remained of its origins save for the imposing columns that surrounded the building on the side where the mountain was lower, carved from slabs of pale marble and preserved over the centuries, beautiful in their austerity. Ponies entered the building from the high side, Canterlot Castle to one's back, the lights of the city spread out below. The city was like a living entity, humming and buzzing and drawing breath, and the opera house a rare calm and stately edifice that had endured thousands of years through the passage of time and would endure thousands more, a round white eye in the glittering storm.

They descended down the main street that ran through Canterlot like an artery, following the natural contours of the mountain down from the castle and through the city to fan out in the outer suburbs. They turned to approach the opera house, lights visible and the thriving sound of crowds growing with each step they took. This was their last moment to be alone for the evening.

"Nervous?" Rarity asked. She could see the red carpet leading up to the tall open doors.

Twilight took a second to reflect upon herself. "No," she answered with a growing grin, "no, I don't think I am."

"Just remember," Rarity said with a cunning smile, "as far as anypony knows, we're just friends."

"Right," Twilight agreed, and winked at her.

The red carpet led them into the foyer, a large cavernous space that was made to seem small by its high ceiling and smaller still by the bubbling crowd. A wide sweeping staircase crawled around the rounded outer wall, with ponies standing on every stair and packed in just as close on the upper floor. Banners hung from the balcony: the old insignias of the sun and the moon, a stylized Crystal Heart that looked like stained glass, and a fourth that held the abstract star of Twilight's cutie mark. Rarity made a note to ask Twilight when that had been designed; she couldn't imagine her friend laying out the specifics of the color and shape of her heraldry.

Twilight took an involuntary step closer to Rarity. She knew there were a lot of ponies here specifically for the Open Forum, but they hadn't been packed into a small space like this. She thought of learning about potions as a little filly, and the diagrams that showed how gas spread out to fill whatever it was contained in, differentiating it from liquids and solids. Everypony here was one of those little motes of gas: without the room to move around freely like in the Gardens or the deck of the Heart, they were packed in tight and jostling against each other.

But then as if on cue, the crowd parted as best they could to let Twilight and Rarity pass, heads slightly bowed in deference to royalty and her escort. Twilight saw faces in the crowd she recognized: there was Sunbeam, her eyes closed, and Fair Banks beside her flashing a grin; she saw Ironclad on the stairs, his neck stiff, his medals hanging as he dipped low; it gave her a small amount of pleasure to see Big Apple averting his eyes to the floor.

She was struck by the sudden desire to laugh, the whole scenario seeming outrageously silly. She didn't get dressed up to go to the opera, she certainly didn't need everypony bowing and scraping as she walked in the room. The fanciest she got of her own volition was salads with both red and white clovers in them. She could practically feel the heavy hoof of archaic rule parting the crowd. Was Luna playing up the formality because that was what everypony expected, or was this really how she remembered life from a thousand years ago? How did they all not laugh at how outrageously overwrought it all was?

What stopped her laughing was thinking of the role she was playing. Twilight, the real Twilight, might think all the pageantry ridiculous, but the Twilight she was pretending to be had a marefriend who quite enjoyed this sort of thing, and she was certainly not going to make fun of it. In fact, she should be congratulating herself on such a fitting series of dates, she thought as they walked along the gap where the carpet continued.

Rarity held in a gasp of awe. Her mind went back to when she had been a little filly, acting out tea parties with her dolls with such precision and poise, her mother asking why she kept talking like that even when she wasn't playing ("However do you mean, mother?" "You can just call me mom, sweetie."), and dreaming that one day the regal royal family to which she truly belonged would find her and take her in to their beautiful home in Canterlot and prepare her for a life in the nobles' court. This dream had seen various permutations over the years -- one being marriage to a prince rather than estranged set of birth parents -- but it had never died completely, not even for a moment, and now, walking through the parted sea of genuflecting ponies, at the side of a princess and looking her most fabulous, it felt like that dream had finally come true. This, she thought, is what having arrived feels like.

But she wouldn't let it go to her head. She couldn't, not tonight, not when she had both a mock duty as Princess Twilight's lover and a real duty to her friend Twilight to stay by her side. She'd be quite willing to be Twilight's shield against too much social interaction on a regular basis -- Rarity understood the value of moments to be by one's self, but Twilight took it to the extreme at times -- if it meant being at events like this one. Why, she'd even encourage tonight's little romantic ruse becoming an extended performance.

The path ended with a pony who must have been one of the castle staff, yet there was no simple red jacket for her tonight; instead she wore a deep red tunic with puffy sleeves matched with an equally-puffy hat that may have been last in fashion a few centuries ago.

Rarity thought it contributed nicely to the atmosphere of a time passed on that had been revived in the ancient amphitheater.

Twilight wondered if the sleeves were as warm and itchy as they looked.

"This way please, Your Highness," she said, holding open the door she stood in front of. Above the door was a neat wooden plaque that read Box IV; hanging from the door was a sign that was obviously a part of tonight's theatrics: Royal Admittance Only.

The door led to a winding narrow corridor in rich velvet and dark wood. Twilight was reminded of being backstage, which in a strange way this almost was; the passageway was so thin it must have been almost squeezed between the walls of the foyer and the seating area. Rarity had to choose between brushing against the walls or Twilight if she wanted to remain shoulder-to-shoulder with her; she purposefully walked close to Twilight and, for good measure, flicked her tail against Twilight's in the hopes they were still somewhat visible to the crowd, and felt Twilight stifle a giggle.

A sharp turn later and they were confronted with a staircase that could only be traversed one at a time. Rarity dipped her head and said, "After you, Princess."

Twilight made an undignified face. "Pfft, knock it off, you don't have to do that if there's nopony around."

"Au contraire, the mark of a consummate actress is maintaining her role even without an audience."

"You know, you're right. Let me try that again." Twilight closed her eyes and let out a quick breath, resetting herself. She was not the Twilight playing a part; she was the Twilight keeping a secret, and she did the first thing that came to mind.

Which happened to be leaning forward in the confined space and planting a soft kiss on Rarity's cheek. It was easy for her to do -- easy for her character to do, she reasoned -- and really no more intimate than the kind of kiss-hello Rarity sometimes employed. Well, not much more.

Rarity froze, and blinked. Twilight smiled at her, somewhere between a friend and a lover's smile, and turned and began climbing the stairs. The first phase of a new romance was all about discovery, full of surprises -- she had just nailed the surprise portion.

-/-

Their box, an intimate nook with only two seats with plush cushions flanked by a cabinet bearing a pair of glasses and a bottle of sparkling wine, overlooked rows and rows of empty seats. Another formality: the royalty was to be seated first.

"I hope everypony out there wasn't kept waiting because of us," Twilight said, hastily taking her seat. The crowd of politicians and other movers and shakers had just started to file in to the seats below, bringing with them the hubbub from the foyer.

"I don't think so." Rarity decided to keep to herself the fleeting thought that, if she were a princess, she may occasionally feel the urge to keep ponies waiting, just because. "Luna doesn't appear to be here yet."

She gestured across the theater to the other boxes. One held Princess Celestia, chatting with an older mare she didn't recognize. The other contained Twilight's brother and sister-in-law, who were waving to them. The fourth box, the one beside their own, was unoccupied.

Twilight waved to Cadance. She watched Shining lean back in his seat, pantomime and exaggerated yawn and stretch, and rest his arm around his wife. It seemed he had absolutely no troubles not taking any of this too seriously.

Rarity felt movement beside her. Twilight was fanning out her wings, making a show of settling herself, and she let one fall over Rarity's shoulder. She flashed Twilight a smile and went back to pouring wine, flawlessly maintaining her character and determined not to let Twilight catch her off-guard again like she had with the kiss.

Shining's eyes went wide. Then he chuckled and nudged Cadance. Funny joke, sis. Hey, check them out over there.

But although Cadance smiled at them, Twilight noted that she didn't laugh. Her smile was measured, like she expected this. Like she knew what they were up to.

That's silly, thought Twilight. Shining probably told her about the article in the Post. No, or that thing Rarity said to him. That must have been it. But something about that explanation didn't sit quite right.

"Who's she, I wonder?" Rarity asked, gesturing to the mare Celestia was talking to. She passed Twilight a flute of bubbling wine.

"Oh, I know her. She used to be an opera singer." Twilight's brow crinkled, trying to come up with her name. "Trebelle, I think. She's a friend of Celestia's."

Rarity leaned in close and murmured, "Looks like a little bit more than a friend, if you ask me."

"That's terrible. You're terrible." She pushed her away, trying not to smile at the lascivious grin Rarity was giving her. "They're just talking! They're just..."

"Just friends like us, dear?" Rarity asked sweetly.

Twilight had some rebuttal forming, but it got lost partway as she watched Celestia and Trebelle talk and laugh and reminisce. She sipped from her glass, thinking. They were close, and Twilight remembered them always being close; on the few occasions Twilight had met with Trebelle, she was reminded of the difference in how her mother spoke to her friends and how she spoke to Twilight herself, and how a similar change came over Princess Celestia. It was subtle, but it was there, and she had never noticed it with anypony else.

It could mean they were just close friends. But it could mean something else.

Very rarely did Twilight think of Celestia as a pony made of flesh and blood, of wants and hopes and desires. She knew she had borne children, many in her long lifetime, but that was academic knowledge. It was also with a detached analysis that Twilight could recognize she must have been in love, more than any pony with a comparatively fleeting lifespan could understand, and have been loved in return, not as a teacher or mother or ruler but as a partner. These were facts with no emotional heft behind them. But looking at her mentor with new eyes, she could imagine it -- the rising star of the opera and her royal patron, an affair carried out behind closed doors after the lowering of the sun.

Love... Twilight wasn't sure how it factored in to her perception of Princess Celestia. It made her vulnerable, assailable in a way that a princess shouldn't be. Except that didn't make much sense, because if she was incapable of love it would be impossible for her to be the warm caring ruler Twilight knew her to be. Plus, there was a wonderful counterexample sitting a few lengths away with her head on her brother's shoulder. A princess could love, could be loved.

Then why did it feel like she would be breaking some sort of rule when she thought about herself? Why did it feel like what she and Rarity were doing was flaunting some great taboo?

It would need to be another time for Twilight to answer these questions, for the audience was seated, and the lights were dimming.

The curtain was still lit and closed. A rush of wings came from above the back rows and a shadow passed over the crowd, stilling the murmurs of the audience. It was the right place, Rarity thought as she finished her glass, to be theatrical in one's entrance, but no sooner had she finished her thought did she realize how woeful and understatement it was.

Princess Luna had taken the stage, and she was not alone.

"Twilight," she whispered, "it seems you were correct."

Much of the crowd had a similar reaction to the bat-pony that stood by Luna's side: hushed gasps, sibilant whispers. He folded his leathery wings around his broad barrel, a dark cloak that made him into a living shadow, brooding and dangerous. He was square-jawed, barrel-chested, like a gargoyle somepony had breathed life into. Pegasi tended towards slight builds, lithe and airy enough to lift themselves up to the clouds, but if Luna's companion was in any way typical then it was clear that bat-ponies used heaving muscle and brute strength to take to the skies.

Luna had started talking, welcoming the crowd in floral formal language. It was wasted, as not a single pony was listening.

"I think we've been upstaged," Twilight said out of the side of her mouth. "There's no way we're the most gossip-worthy couple now."

"You don't think they're...?" Rarity asked in a similarly low voice.

Celestia and Trebelle was conjecture, an idle what-if; Luna and this mysterious bat-pony, with his hulking physique that would turn heads even without its unusual variations, was so blatant Twilight was surprised Rarity was questioning it. "Oh yeah," she said, "there is no doubt that Luna is riding that."

Rarity made a choked noise in muffling her laughter. Her hoof wavered, almost spilling the fresh glass she was pouring. Riding that, indeed! She wondered if the wine was affecting Twilight especially quickly; if this was a hint to what tipsy Twilight was like, then tipsy Twilight seemed fun.

Luna's speech had finished. She bade the visitors a pleasant night, and lighted to her box with her striking friend with a similar abrupt flurry as her arrival to the stage. A moment of chatter from the audience was superseded by the orchestra waking. The lights faded completely, and the curtain drew back. The show was beginning.

Pressing her muzzle close to Twilight's ear to be heard over the opening flourishes of the score, Rarity murmured, "Then we shall just have to up our game, as it were."

She passed Twilight her newly-filled glass, and let her free hoof fall down her chest, coming to rest on Twilight's leg. In the darkness, Twilight's expression was impossible to read, but she covered Rarity's hoof with her own, and sipped from her glass. On the stage, the shepherd was taking in his surroundings in the Underworld.

Twilight's heart beat fast, spurred on by a growing fire in her belly. That was the wine. Mostly the wine. There was also Rarity touching her leg contributing. The bar had been raised, like there was a hidden competition amongst the royal boxes: they were no longer up against the open couple and the discreet couple, but also the exotic and mysterious couple. And as the shepherd descended into the depths, her mind raced, searching for a way they could take the lead.

There is no competition, a rational part of her insisted. It's all something you've fabricated.

But that gave everything a kind of security to it, didn't it? Succeeding or failing was something private, something for only Rarity and herself. It didn't matter, in the end. It would be like taking a test she had written for herself. It wouldn't really be like taking a test at all.

Nopony can even see what you're doing from down there.

No, Twilight thought. No, they couldn't.

The shepherd had found the false miller's daughter. As she convinced him they had to go deeper down to get back to the surface, Twilight shifted her leg, pressing it against Rarity's. She was soft, comfortable. The contact was pleasant, the warmth from Rarity's body a nice physical sensation, like running through a thicket dappled with rays of sunshine or turning the pages of an age-worn book. Friends could do this, be in such close proximity to each other, couldn't they? She couldn't see why not. It was a little foolish that such intimacy was almost exclusively reserved for lovers.

Rarity relaxed into her. The way they were sitting was less like they were two dignified ponies dressed up in a box at the opera but a couple spending a night in on their worn loveseat, the performance in front of her and the crowd below her seeming peripheral. She tried to imagine her and Twilight in such a situation, possibly accompanied by their nearly-finished bottle of wine, and found it quite easy in a way that she had never been able to manage with any of her previous romantic fixations. Twilight was capable of being every part the image of immaculate royalty, but she was also homey, able to relax and sprawl out on a pile of cushions; it was no wonder all her crushes had come to nothing, if they were all missing to a fault that important private part of a relationship. But then, they had all been ponies whom she had only known the surface of, no inkling of their depths; Twilight was a whole pony, rounded and living and breathing before her.

She idly rubbed Twilight's leg while the shepherd and the disguised fae queen journeyed on, hardly aware she was doing it. The wine was taking its toll on her, as she could feel warmth in her cheeks and a tickling in her stomach. She should stop, before she got silly. But the little devil on her shoulder, the one that spoke up when there was another slice of cake or the last scoop of ice cream to be had, it was also a proponent of another bottle of wine. She could have ignored it. But the shepherd hadn't even made it to the prison where the real miller's daughter was being held yet. With so much of the opera left to go, Rarity gave Twilight's leg a squeeze and uncorked a second bottle.

That was when she felt Twilight's hoof on her own leg. That was not especially unusual, given the commitment the two of them had shown to their roles tonight, but Rarity did get somewhat of a shock when that hoof began to creep up her leg, parting the split in her dress. For a brief moment continuing made sense, letting Twilight quiet that niggling tingle between her legs -- blasted wine -- but then the orchestra sounded a descending spiral of notes to accompany the fae queen revealing herself, and she remembered where she -- they -- were. It was an act. It was all an act, no matter how seriously Twilight was taking things.

"Twilight!" she hissed, covering the errant hoof with her own. Not moving it back. Just stopping it.

Twilight looked at her, her face shrouded. Was she smiling? What sort of a smile was it? Was it saying it's okay, this is all part of the act? Or was it something else?

Rarity put her mouth to Twilight's ear, feeling the shoulder devil urging her to keep pace with Twilight's improvisation, feeling the wine nudging her into decidedly silly territory.

"Later," she whispered, and nipped on her ear.

The hoof high up on her leg squeezed. It didn't journey any higher.

But neither did it back away.

-/-

Neither of them were focused enough on the stage to be able to recall just how the opera ended, who the shepherd emerged into the sunlight with.

It didn't seem very important.

Sunday - Duet

Their journey back to the hotel from the opera house was giddy and flighty, Twilight putting a wing over Rarity as if it were a chilly evening, Rarity pressing herself against Twilight as she walked as if she were cold, and both trying to contain their laughter. Twilight felt light on her hooves, like she could just prance off into the sky and carry Rarity with her; she had a very brief vision of doing just that, of scooping Rarity up and taking off, until she remembered all the flutes of bubbling wine that were currently responsible for her feeling so light in the head and warm in the belly.

At the hotel they ran across the bellhop who had carried their luggage when they arrived, on some unrelated errand that took him past Twilight and Rarity's rooms coincidentally just as they were arriving at them. If he thought it was unusual that the princess and her escort were being so touchy-feely with each other, Rarity thought as she disentangled herself from how she had been nuzzling Twilight's neck in the elevator, he kept it well to himself.

"Good, uh, good evening, ladies," he said to them. Twilight remembered telling him that it wasn't necessary to address her as "Princess". That felt like a hundred years ago, and if he had it might have been an absurd closing joke to her whole evening spent undermining the kind of composure and regality expected of royalty.

Twilight sketched a bow to him. To the moon with composure and regality!

"And a very good evening to you, fine sir," Rarity said, opening Twilight's door with magic and fishing around inside for something she knew was there but couldn't quite get her glowing bubble of force to latch on to. "Could you be a dear and make sure that we are not disturbed early in the morning? Thank you. We plan on sleeping in, you see."

"I see," he said, still all business. "Both rooms, or...?"

"No," Twilight said, feeling the giggles bubbling up in her throat, "just this one."

Rarity found what she was feeling for -- the Do Not Disturb sign -- and hung it off the ivory handle with a flourish. "Ta-ta," she told their bellhop, and she walked through the door beside Twilight and locked it behind her.

The full moon gave the room enough light to see by, but Rarity was so close to Twilight all she could focus on were her eyes, bright and sparkling like a schoolfilly's, like all of the stars in the night sky were dancing and playing in them. She let go of a choked snicker, which started Rarity tittering, which set them both into fits of full-throated laughter, a hoof around each others' shoulder for support.

"Can you imagine," Rarity managed as their mirth was subsiding, "what he must be thinking?"

For a moment, Twilight imagined it herself: touching Rarity, kissing her, stripping off her dress, making her moan. The images came very easily to her, like objects pulled from the depths of a murky river finally thrust above the water. But hadn't the whole evening been one long process of dredging those images forth, bringing them up into clarity and focus? They might have started as inspiration for the character Twilight was playing, but she was very, very similar to the real Twilight, and it was becoming hazy just what the difference between the two was.

She saw the lines that formed around Rarity's eyes when she smiled slowly fade as her face relaxed, and Twilight was struck with the sudden urge to see them again. To be responsible for making Rarity smile again. She really did have a beautiful smile.

A twinge in her stomach that could no longer be put down to the wine spurred her forward to act. As soon as she spoke, she imagined their bellhop, perhaps loitering just outside their door to hear a brief snippet of what was going on. What must he be thinking? What, indeed.

"Maybe something," Twilight said, taking half a step forward, leaning in to Rarity, feeling her breath on her muzzle, "like this."

There was a brief moment of hesitation between them, Twilight having offered the kiss and Rarity having accepted, yet neither quite bold enough to carry it through. Rarity half-thought this may have been a dream of sorts, an especially vivid daydream (but is it really a daydream, she asked herself, with the moon lighting our way?), and she paused because of a sharp and irrational intuition that closing her eyes would mean she would wake up. She feared she would wake up, and this would have been something she imagined alone, not a thing she had shared with Twilight.

And then Twilight closed her eyes, and her lips brushed against Rarity's.

Twilight's hoof left Rarity's shoulder to touch her mane, to run through its length. Rarity sighed into the kiss, the dual sensation of Twilight caressing her lips and her mane releasing some of the mounting pressure they had been building together all night. The sound Rarity made, quiet but cutting through the silence of the room, put all of Twilight's senses on edge, making her skin tingle, making her ears prickle. She felt as well as heard Rarity's exhalation, her breath playing over her lips, and she held her closer, wanting to breathe her in the same way she was breathing in the faint scent of lilacs coming from her mane. Rarity brought her hoof up to stroke Twilight's ear, unwilling (for now) to ruin her regal mane; she was rewarded with Twilight's ear twitching and a throaty nicker. She wanted to know what else would cause Twilight to make a sound like that, and was more than certain that tonight she would let her explore and discover for herself, and so was a little disappointed when Twilight finally drew away from the kiss.

They still had an arm around each other. In the dark, Twilight could still see how flushed Rarity's face was. Rarity listened to Twilight breathe, deep lungfuls like whenever she flew for more than a short distance. She had a smile on her face that was hopeful and excited and a little bewildered; Rarity imagined that Princess Celestia might have seen that smile more than once out of Twilight when she was her student. She was pleased with what had happened, with what she had made happen, but affairs wouldn't be complete until somepony told her she had done a good job. Until somepony had graded her.

She passes with flying colors, Rarity thought with a wry inward smile. Because in this hotel room, unlike out in the real world, when you passed your test, you got to take it again. And again. And again.

Twilight's heart pounded like a parade drum in her throat, waiting for Rarity to respond. Perhaps she didn't know how. She didn't quite know herself, to be honest. What exactly was the protocol for after kissing one's extremely close friend after a night of staged flirting? They were blazing new territory here, and the thought of that was just as exciting as the kiss had been. The pretty dresses, the fancy manestyles, the jewellery, the evening of formality, it all contrasted wildly with the clawing hungry animal that was stirring inside her, wanting to do all manner of things with-- to -- Rarity. It felt wrong, like the world had been thrown off-kilter and she was being tossed to and fro, her head spinning, her heart pumping, a slave of centripetal force. It all felt deliciously wrong, in all the right ways.

Rarity pushed closer to Twilight, not having the room to take a step. She eliminated all the distance between them. Their dresses rubbed against one another. Rarity's necklace brushed Twilight's coat. They were muzzle-to-muzzle now, breathing each others' breath, conspirators sharing secrets in the moonlight.

"Perhaps," Rarity whispered, able to feel Twilight shiver at her words, lips trembling against her own, "it was more like this..."

The second kiss was deeper, much deeper, a barrier having been broken through with the first that unleashed a torrent of need and lust. Twilight's body radiated heat, which Rarity felt everywhere as she caressed with her free hoof, the other firmly guiding the kiss from the nape of Twilight's neck. Her tongue sought Twilight's own, and as it made contact it caused a soft sighing mmm in Twilight's throat, and when Rarity massaged her ear, she moaned into her mouth. Twilight was always so composed, a little part of her that was forever reserved and distant, the part that had contained the seed of a princess and a ruler probably long before she had even come to Ponyville, but Rarity was discovering that it melted away beneath her touch. She was uncovering a side of Twilight that she had not known had existed, a part of her that could be uninhibited and free and wanton, waiting for its time to come forth from the depths. Perhaps Twilight had not even really known this part of her existed, and it was Rarity who got to help her bring it to the fore, to aid her in her discovery. That thought meshed so seamlessly with the roles they had been acting in all night -- the worldly and passionate escort who shows the prim and sheltered princess how to bloom -- that she couldn't think of things in any other way. It was now her mission to guide Twilight through tonight's journey.

Doing otherwise would be most ungenerous.

Rarity stroking and petting her ear was alerting Twilight to an erogenous zone she hadn't been aware of previously. Or perhaps it was just Rarity's touch that was the important factor, and she could have been touching her anywhere (and she could touch anywhere she liked, Twilight thought). Either way, she could feel her arousal growing, could feel herself being wet and slick as she clenched her thighs together. She would have bitten her lip, were Rarity not busily running her tongue over it. They were enmeshed, tangled in each other so it became difficult to say precisely where Twilight stopped and where Rarity began, as close to being able to be called lovers without the physical act of making love. Though Rarity was matching Twilight in her actions, she seemed reluctant to move things forward, to escalate. It was like Twilight alone held the reins, like Rarity would come along with her for as far as she was willing to go and no further until Twilight gave the okay.

Well, that was okay with her. Twilight planned on going further than this. As far as she could go, if Rarity wanted to keep up with her. (And she wanted her to, oh how she wanted her to.)

Twilight slid a hoof up Rarity's back, feeling the smooth fabric of her close-fitting dress, feeling for the groove where the zipper sat. There was something in the act of sliding the zip down herself, the teeth parting, the dress falling away at her touch, that was erotic and sensual and revealing in ways that Rarity wiggling out of her dress on her own could never be. Twilight knew what Rarity looked like without clothes, of course -- fashion-forward as she was, like almost all ponies she bothered with them mostly for special occasions and extreme weather. She had stood beside her enough times while dressing and undressing, but none of that was related to how uncovering Rarity felt, relieving her of her clothes while locked in an embrace. It was like another threshold to cross, another obstacle that was preventing them from being as close as possible being defeated.

The dress fell to the floor in a fabric heap, pooling around Rarity's hind legs. Twilight could feel her step out of it and kick it away to the corner of the room, which was a kind of confirmation she had not expected from Rarity; that she could just toss the dress aside (and was there a dress of her own making that Rarity didn't care deeply for?) like it was any old rag, a minor annoyance even, meant Twilight was the center of her undivided attention as Rarity was the center of hers. She broke the kiss and nosed aside Rarity's mane, nestling deep against her neck. Twilight kissed her there, nipped at her soft coat, explored that silky and smooth territory with her lips, and Rarity whispered her name over and over, gasped it out like a mantra.

But that was wrong, wrong in a wrong way. If it was playing roles that lead them to this point, Twilight undressing Rarity and Rarity murmuring against her shoulder, then they should stay in character. Twilight wasn't Twilight: she was the Princess, who had just paraded about with her romantic liaison and would now, as a dramatic encore, share in a tryst with her while retaining the royal finery. These thoughts were not clear within her head; they were muddled, broken images that only pointed to what was amiss and how to fix it.

So she surprised herself a little when she covered Rarity's lips with her own and, stroking a hoof across her cheek, commanded in a sultry tone: "Call me Princess."

A ripple ran through Rarity, chilling and exciting like a cold pocket in a lake. Twilight was still fully dressed, her tiara not even askew -- it was very easy to think of her as Princess Twilight, and if that's the part of her she needed to be now, Rarity would oblige. She melted into one of Twilight's kisses and murmured, "Mmm, Princess," holding the image of Princess Twilight standing before a great crowd, confident and self-assured and beautiful and regal, in her mind as Twilight returned to her neck with renewed passion. But there was something else now too, some tingling touch arcing along her flank like static in the cold wind that was both unfamiliar and recognizable at the same time. It was warm and chaotic, a liquid bubble of pressure rolling over her cutie mark in ways that were not entirely unpleasant and that were causing a much more familiar tingling in her nethers. She opened her eyes and saw the source of the sensation: Twilight had lit her horn, and had encased her in a swirling maelstrom of magic.

Twilight was still kissing her, now nipping at her ear, now probing her mouth with her tongue, and where her lips touched they left dancing trails of purple sparks, sputtering residue from the spell that she didn't even seem to be putting any effort into casting. She truly was a princess now, the Princess of Magic, and with her casual display of power she was making Rarity weak in the knees. Light and heat and touch buffeted her, raw sensation grasping along her barrel, rippling over her flanks, darting over her dock and the base of her tail, all crackling and humming like mad science. Scents came and went in the flashing lights: grass after rain, open fields in sunlight, the pleasant smell of Twilight's mane and the mixed aroma of their arousal. Rarity had never needed to come to completion this badly, this urgently; the magic was making her shiver and tremble with need, yet it was also holding her at bay. Lewd tableaux whipped through her mind and sped away before she could focus on them. She pressed her hind legs together, producing a string of firecracker-pops of light and lightning between them, wanting desperately to sink a hoof into her crotch but knowing she wouldn't be able to stand if she took it off the floor.

"Prin... cess..." she managed, her voice a breathy whine, a strained moan.

"Hm, it's good, isn't it?" Twilight was trying to sound naughty, but she couldn't help with being pleased with herself and the obvious effect it was having on Rarity: from the shaking, the panting, her putting nearly her full weight on Twilight as she leaned on her, it was definitely working as intended. "But," she said, and kissed her with a feverish intensity that matched the glowing thunderhead, "it gets better."

Better? Rarity didn't know if she could handle better; she was only barely coping with now. She gasped into Twilight's kiss as three probing magical digits pressed themselves against her most intimate of places: one up against her lower lips, another brushing beneath her tail, and the last finding her hidden pink button, aching and throbbing. As they washed over her, entered her with liquid grace, surrounded all the parts of her that were beating heaviest in time with her heart and the ebb and flow of the lightstorm, she felt a moment of blissful calm; this is how it is all meant to be, the crest of the final wave just before it crashes to shore.

The tendrils felt nothing like any stallion who had ever mounted her; they had neither weight nor mass, but they did have presence, a sensation that was warm and cool together, ephemeral but insistent. It was like Twilight was within them, riding on their currents, guiding each jolt and wave of pleasure, and of course she was: Rarity opened her eyes to look at Twilight, to see her horn still glowing, to see that purple light flickering across her pupils. She was smiling as she kissed her, smiling and watching her, studying, waiting. Waiting for the climax. You're so close, Twilight's eyes and smile were saying. You're so close now. Just a little bit more. I want to see it. I want to see you finish. Won't you show me?

Twilight brushed back Rarity's mane, caressed her ear, cupped her cheek, all while watching her with that intense, studious, inquisitive gaze. "Come for me," she commanded with a whisper, lightning arcing between their lips as she kissed her, "come for your Princess."

Rarity came for her.

Her eyes rolled up as the avalanche began in her nethers, and she screwed them shut as the rumbling roils of pleasure wracked her. She jerked and shuddered and pressed herself blindly into Twilight, trying to curl into a ball to contain the sensations washing over her while still standing. A high noise registered in her ears and it took her a moment to understand it was her own voice, a wordless shriek. The magic pressing in on her felt uniform, like one solid mass guiding her, cushioning her, stimulating her just as she thought this little aftershock must be the last, until finally it faded and she at last melted to the ground, spent. One of her hind legs twitched, dancing to its own silent and chaotic rhythm, and she was too exhausted to attempt to make it stop. She lay her head against her outstretched arm, relishing the solid ground, feeling the heavy drum of her heart, losing herself in her greedy breaths.

Oh, my, she thought from a place that felt far away from her body, somewhere far out by the stars in the dark, oh, Princess.

Twilight knelt beside her and lay her head over Rarity's own; Rarity appreciated the closeness, and she lifted a shaky hoof to touch Twilight's muzzle.

"So." Rarity could hear her grinning, pleased with her experiment. "How was that?"

"I'll tell you," she said, pausing to take a breath, "when I can feel my hooves again."

Twilight chuckled. "It's a bit like that, yeah. Intense."

Intense was an apt but mundane word, Rarity agreed silently. She thought she now understood why it was called le petit mort -- it felt like she was slowly coming back to life, regaining her senses and her faculties while she lay on the floor.

"I, um." Twilight stumbled in her words. Rarity couldn't blame her. What she settled on was: "Wow."

"I believe that just about covers it," Rarity sighed. She shifted so she could look at Twilight, who still had that curious eager smile on her face. "Wow."

She accentuated her last word with raised eyebrows and a saucy half-smile, which Twilight giggled at. This was the Twilight Rarity was most familiar with, the one that had lived in a loft above a library and got excited over finishing her checklists ahead of time, the Twilight who knew so much and at the same time knew so little. Rarity had given herself over to Princess Twilight, but with the warmth of the other Twilight pressed up against her -- the bookish Twilight, the wallflower Twilight, the wide-eyed, naive, sheltered Twilight -- she discovered she wanted her, too. She wanted to ravish her, to give her an education that could never be gleaned from books no matter how explicit or smutty their words may be. She wanted to see those wide eyes pinched shut with concentration and pleasure. She wanted to make Twilight gasp and moan and writhe, just as she had for her.

"You should stand up," she said, trying to be casual, wondering if she was ready herself to stand. "You'll wrinkle your dress."

This was practical advice, and maybe it might have seemed that way to Twilight, but Rarity wasn't thinking in terms of practicality. She leaned in to Twilight before she could move and gave her a steamy kiss, a hoof running along Twilight's dress under the obviously false context of smoothing it out but giving Rarity a good feel of the contours of Twilight's body.

She added in a sensual whisper as the kiss broke: "Princess."

Twilight gave her a knowing smile, the throb in her swollen clitoris momentarily forgotten as she had watched Rarity's stunning orgasm now springing back to life, reminding her like a shrill alarm clock that there was still work to be done. She stood as Rarity had instructed, feeling a calm descend over her even as her breath wanted to hitch and her nerves wanted to rattle. Unfamiliar territory this might be, but Rarity was with her, in for the whole journey it would seem, and that made it seem less like hacking through unrepentant jungle and more like a mountain climb with rock accepting of cable-hooks: if she fell, she would be caught, safe. If she made a mistake, it too could be caught. Rarity was with her. She would be safe.

Rarity rose with her, and continued to smooth out her dress, black and shimmering in the moonlight like a phantom. She was close to Twilight -- unnecessarily close, one would call it under ordinary circumstances, but this too was another act, another pretext, and Rarity was using it to swim around Twilight's personal space and brush against her, run her hoof through her coat, stroke along her wings, steal kisses. Twilight was reminded of the spell she had just used as Rarity's hooves and lips and tongue roamed over her body, but in a way it could not have been more dissimilar. The spell was pre-programmed, mechanical, choreographed, a puppet for Twilight to move around and not so different from her own hooves and horn; Rarity had a mind of her own, and she moved where she willed, a coiling serpent constricting closer and closer, a graceful dancer spinning and twirling in ever-more complex routines. Magic was predictable; Rarity was something new and fascinating.

She was insistently guiding Twilight somewhere in the room, but in the pale light and with her eyes half-closed, lost in a haze of peppered kisses, she couldn't guess where until she backed in to something soft. She felt a hoof behind her; it was the extravagant four-poster bed. Twilight made to climb on to it, but Rarity stopped her, holding her attention with a trail of kisses along her jawline.

"Ah, ah, Princess," she cautioned, and she reached her hooves around to settle them one on each of Twilight's flanks. "Allow me."

For a second Twilight wondered if Rarity wanted to lift her up onto the bed like a gallant knight of old, which might have been taking the role a little too far, but what she did instead was start wiggling Twilight's dress up her hips. When it was far enough to expose her cutie mark and her glistening vulva, Rarity kissed her with force, driving her into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. Twilight had to put her forehooves on the bed behind her to keep from toppling backwards, and she spread her hind legs to keep a better center of gravity while a very insistent Rarity started to kiss down her neck, slowly lowering herself.

Oh. Now Twilight got it. She watched Rarity's head sink between her legs, her mane spilling over them and tickling her coat, with a detached curiosity. It barely seemed real, like this was all happening to somepony else, and Twilight was just observing over their shoulder, perhaps taking notes, perhaps planning her review and summation at the end. She could feel Rarity kissing and sucking on the insides of her thighs, but even that wasn't enough to truly connect together her mind with what was happening.

But when Rarity's tongue swirled over her labia, that felt very real.

Twilight gasped at the sensation, warm and wet and smooth and slippery, thrusting her thoughts into the moment with intense clarity. Rarity chuckled, and although the sound was lost with her muzzle buried between Twilight's legs, Twilight felt rather than heard the vibrating humming resonance against her crotch, and she gave an involuntary groan. Rarity worked her tongue all over Twilight, lapping at her lips, probing within her, seeking the tightened cluster of nerves of her clitoris before moving away to another area that would cause Twilight's breath to catch and her heart to jump. She gripped the bedsheets, screwing them up in her hooves, while her hind legs squeezed Rarity tight, holding her close. The muscles of her stomach clenched and she began to double over, and for a brief flash behind her closed eyes Twilight saw what she must have looked like: propped up on the fancy bed, muscles taught, mouth open, tiara crooked, dress scrunched up around her barrel, silhouetted against the moon, royal trappings juxtaposed with raw lust. Except it wasn't a contrast; her sexuality was a part of her as much as her nobility. She could do this. A princess could do this.

And at that moment, Rarity stopped.

A flurry of thoughts whirled through Twilight's mind (no, why, don't stop, I didn't mean it), all of which were silenced as Rarity stroked a lazy hoof up Twilight's slit. Even in the near-darkness, she could see it came away slick and shiny.

Rarity was looking up at her with a sneaky smile, her eyes full of mischief. Twilight could see the pelt of her muzzle being matted with moisture. "Is my Princess enjoying herself?" she asked, her hoof pressing down between Twilight's legs in a way that made it awfully difficult to think coherently.

"Nnn," Twilight mumbled. Words were even more difficult. She dropped the pretense completely, fell out of character, and pushed Rarity back down with a hoof in her mane. "More..." she managed, her voice so thick and breathy she barely recognized it as her own.

As Rarity obliged, her tongue a soft and sweet pressure against her clit, Twilight collapsed back on to the bed.

The sheets were cool and accepting, and Rarity was burning hot and twisting a hard knot within her that Twilight could feel would soon come undone. She spurred Rarity on, whispered yes, yes, yes over and over, gripped her mane with her hoof. This was the final stretch, the moment where there was no duty or obligation or image, no hotel and no Canterlot and no moonlight, not even Rarity and not even Twilight: there was only that sensation, that wonderful pleasurable sensation where one's nerves are all switched on and crying out for more, more, more. Twilight came with a shuddering exhalation, frozen as her orgasm overtook her before she sucked in a deep breath and let out a shaky laugh, relaxing into the soft bed. She felt Rarity's mane fall away from her grasp, and then Rarity was beside her, draped over her, and kissing her, and Twilight drew her hind legs up onto the bed and wrapped an arm around her neck and kissed her back.

She was smiling as Rarity's lips covered hers. She was still laughing. She felt drunk again. Or maybe she still was. There was no protocol for this at all; protocol was also apparently up on the moon tonight. She imagined drafting a letter to Princess Celestia to outline the exact nature of her current friendship problem -- Dear Princess Celestia, I just slept with one of my best friends and I'm having a fit of the giggles, shouldn't I be freaking out or something? -- and that only made the problem worse.

Rarity drew away from her, a few stray chuckles escaping from Twilight like floating bubbles. She was also smiling. "What," she said, kissing Twilight's forehead, "may I ask, is so funny?"

"I don't know," she said. Shaking her head felt strange against the covers. That was because her mane was still pinned up, she realized. "I should be having a meltdown or a panic attack or something, but I don't feel like it. It just all feels... funny." She gave Rarity a huge grin. "Or maybe it's the endorphins or something, I can't tell. Sex can be kind of... uh..." Her brain scattered to find the right word. It didn't feel like she could rely on it for anything right now.

"Intense?" Rarity offered.

"Mm." She had used that word before, hadn't she? It fit. "Intense is right," she said, and she snuggled into the crook of Rarity's neck.

Rarity secured her with a hoof, stroking the wing tucked up against her side. That felt good, nice in a comforting sort of way. Twilight breathed in the fragrance of Rarity's mane, a complex flowery bouquet, and let her mind drift for a length of time she could not have measured. It was nice, being held like this, being touched. Comfortable. Her eyes stayed open, though. She didn't feel like falling asleep. Not just yet, anyway.

"Rarity?" she asked into the quiet room.

"Yes, Twilight?"

"Could I do that to you?"

"Do what, dear?" It sounded like Rarity, too, had allowed her thoughts to wander.

"Cunnilingus," Twilight said plainly.

Rarity snorted, caught completely off-guard. "N-now?" was all she could think to ask.

"Why not?" It was like Twilight suggested they go out for ice cream. "I mean, I understand if you're tired, I just thought--"

"That's not why I..." Rarity shook her head. "You just became so incredibly forward, all of a sudden!"

"Well..." Twilight bit her lip, looking at her with those bright hopeful eyes. "It's not like we need to be especially modest with each other."

Rarity laughed, and Twilight grinned at her again. No, she supposed, they didn't, did they? Inexperienced she may be, but innocent was something Twilight was not. She was like a still lake in the deep woods, some calm and humble surface one had no way of judging the depth of without diving in, and no telling what you might find at the bottom.

She was a little curious to see what she would find if she kept on diving down.

Leaning over her, Rarity gave Twilight a kiss, brief and ending with a playful flick of her tongue over Twilight's lips. Wordlessly, she separated herself from her, settled among the soft pillows, gave Twilight an unmistakable come-hither stare, and spread her legs.

Twilight did not approach her right away. First, she removed her dress all the way, lifting it over her head with a brief flash of magic that whisked it off to the wardrobe, hanging neatly. The spell also apparently took Twilight's necklace and tiara, for they were gone with the dress. Twilight wanted to be closer to Rarity, on even ground, equal. The dress and the jewellery were part of a costume, Princess Twilight's costume, and she didn't feel the need to pick the persona back up again. But there was still one thing left.

Feeling the back of her head with her hoof, she unpinned her mane and let it fall free. Twilight swung her head from side to side, feeling like herself again. Rarity watched her, a slow spreading smile blooming on her face. If this was Twilight's attempts at being a brazen seductress, waving her tresses to and fro, she was making an awfully poor job of it -- and Rarity didn't mind in the slightest. Twilight's mane was an adorable mess, kinked from sitting in place all night.

Rarity was looking forward to messing it up even further by sinking a hoof into it.

She nudged Twilight with her hind leg; she looked like she may have been on the verge of hesitating. "Like you say," she told her, "no need to be shy now."

Twilight crawled on the bed to her, kissed her slowly and softly. Before had been a race, she frantically needing to experience as much of Rarity as quickly as possible; now it was exploration, and she would take all the time she needed. Rarity's coat was wonderfully soft and smelled faintly of vanilla (some sort of wash? or just her natural scent? she couldn't say), and her lips were welcoming and pliant, and it was easy to become lost in both. Rarity herself was more than content to take things slowly, still reeling from Twilight's magic. She pulled Twilight close to her, feeling their coats brush, hooking her with her hind legs, running her forehoves up and down the feathers of her freed wings, feeling completely in place in this opulent bed and a beautiful mare to share it with.

There they lay with each other in the darkness, princess and seamstress. Rarity began to feel that familiar heat kindle within her from Twilight's kisses, and Twilight's touch grew bolder as her hoof traversed the inside of Rarity's thigh and brushed across her waiting mons. She sighed and tensed, and Twilight smiled as she kissed her, and both agreed in silence that it was time. Twilight's kisses trailed down Rarity's neck, down her chest, down her belly stretched smooth and taut, and Rarity watched her with her head propped up with a large pillow and a hoof resting in Twilight's mane. She never slowed on her way down, and when Twilight made contact with her nethers, muzzle pressed against her, tongue darting in to taste of her, Rarity sighed in the same way she would if she were sinking into a perfumed bath at the end of an especially long and stressful day.

This, too, unfolded all at the pace it needed to and no more and no less. Twilight did not concern herself with cataloging what areas of Rarity's anatomy were the most sensitive, what actions produced the most pleasurable and audible results. Rarity forgot the room and all its trappings, the night and all its spectacle, and let Twilight love her as she stroked and petted her mane. They were lost in each other, the moon still and bright in the sky just for them, and when Rarity climaxed it was not with a cry but with the quiet sound of a smile, and Twilight felt her stiffen around her and then become limp, and she climbed back up to Rarity's level to hold her.

Rarity buried her face in Twilight's chest, smelling sex and smelling her, scents primal and unfiltered and private. Twilight carefully spread a wing over her, and it felt lighter and more heavenly than crawling under the covers. She lightly caressed the large feather at the tip, in awe of its softness.

"So." Rarity's mind skipped back to waking up this morning, and how long ago that seemed. "Do you think we tricked everypony into thinking we're an item yet?"

Twilight laughed. "Oh yeah. Yeah, I'm sure we have them all fooled. I wonder what rumors will be like."

"You know, I find myself not caring too much about all that." She wriggled up to kiss Twilight. "It seems not to matter, somehow."

Twilight kissed her back. "It does seem a little silly."

She rested her chin on the top of Rarity's head, thinking. Rarity could feel her fidgeting a little, and she removed her hoof from Twilight's feathers. "I wasn't bothering you, was I?" she asked.

"Hm?" Twilight glanced down at her wing. "Oh. No, it wasn't that." She gave Rarity a smile. "That actually feels kinda nice."

Rarity returned her hoof to Twilight's primaries, fascinated with how they unlinked when brushed one way and reconnected when brushed the other. "I've just been led to believe pegasus wings are quite sensitive," she said, deftly glossing over any pegasi lovers who may have given her that impression. Now was certainly not the time to bring them up.

"I don't think mine are." Twilight flexed her wings, make the feathers ruffle. "Maybe alicorn wings are different."

"Perhaps they are," Rarity said, thinking of just how few alicorns there were, and the small number of ponies that could compare the intimate touch of their wings to that of a regular pegasus.

They settled into silence, but it wasn't more than a minute before Twilight started to shift again.

Rarity moved her hoof down Twilight's body, resting it on the sensitive area of her barrel. Twilight looked down at her. "Is something bothering you, darling?" she asked, now that she had Twilight's attention. There were other things, she felt, they didn't need to be so shy about.

"Was, um." Twilight hesitated before continuing. "...Did I do okay?" she asked eventually.

Oh, was that all? Rarity squeezed her a little tighter, thinking it sounded a little strange to hear Twilight voicing such a mundane concern, and one with such an obvious answer at that. "You did fine," she said, and felt Twilight relax in her grasp. "No complaints. Though..."

She let her hoof drift down, circling Twilight's cutie mark.

"...I didn't expect Twilight Sparkle to be so kinky. You are quite the dark horse."

Twilight suddenly remembered what she had asked Rarity to call her, it seeming awkward after the fact instead of as wild and exciting as it had in the moment, and she could feel the blood color her cheeks. "...It wasn't that unusual, was it?" she asked timidly.

"Would that I could do magic like that." Rarity uttered a polite parlor laugh. "I fear I wouldn't ever get anything productive done again."

Wait, magic? "Oh," Twilight said. "You, um. You can't cast anything like that?"

"Dear, I don't think I could get my horn to light up while I was, ahem, otherwise occupied. I don't think most unicorns could." She looked up at Twilight.

Twilight didn't meet her gaze; she was looking off at some dark point in the room. "Huh," she said.

"You are something of a special case, you know."

"I know." Twilight bit her lip, and her eyes found Rarity's. "I just... that's what I've always done, more or less." She gave her a smile that was somewhat sheepish, somewhat like she was sharing a secret.

The image of a younger Twilight in her bedroom at Canterlot Castle, hindquarters in the air, magic buzzing around her, eyes screwed shut, and a pillow muffling her cries of ecstasy flashed vividly in Rarity's mind, and she swallowed. "No, ah." She glanced away. "Nopony's ever made mention of it before?"

She felt Twilight shrug. "Nopony's ever had the chance to until now," she said.

Several things fell into place for Rarity at that moment. "Oh, sweetheart," she said, sounding crestfallen. "If I'd have known this was your first time, I would have tried to make it more special."

Huh, Twilight thought again. She kissed Rarity, cupping her muzzle lightly with her hoof, thinking that was such a strange thing for Rarity to be concerned over. Like she could have done more for Twilight than she had already tonight.

"But it was special. It was with somepony I care about."

She kissed her again, lightly, and left their muzzles touching.

"Somepony I trust," she said.

Rarity smiled through her kiss, and held her hoof to Twilight's. There was more to be discussed, but both parties simultaneously agreed without speaking that this was a good place to leave the conversation, and the evening. They drifted into sleep still holding each other, comfortable in each other's space, and let the morning come to them.

Monday - Intermission

The morning sun woke Rarity. From her place at the table, Twilight turned her head to watch her stir.

She stretched, cat-like, feeling the satisfying ache that followed good sex, and smiled to herself. Rolling over, she found the large bed empty. Rarity opened her eyes, and found Twilight observing her. There were little uneven curls in her mane, and she realized rather belatedly that the regular way Rarity's hair fell and swooped wasn't how it naturally behaved. Twilight liked it, she decided; it made the pony she was watching a little more real. It reminded her of being backstage.

"Mm, good morning," Rarity said. She slid out of bed. "Have you been awake long?"

Twilight shook her head. "Long enough to start coffee. Get the papers. Think a little."

Rarity noticed Twilight's newspapers at the table, still folded in half, upside-down from her. "I think," she said, sitting opposite Twilight, "that this morning I feel like foregoing my tea. If you could pour some coffee for me, please, when it's ready?"

"Are you sure?" Twilight asked. "It's kinda bad."

"Here we stay at one of the finest hotels in Canterlot, and you mean to tell me that Princess Twilight Sparkle cannot even get a decent cup of coffee to start her mornings with? Disgraceful." She smiled, breaking her mask of mock outrage, and Twilight giggled at her.

"Maybe I should complain to somepony."

"I'm sure you could have whatever bean you prefer freshly-ground within minutes and delivered to your door, if you complained to the right pony. You are a princess, after all."

"That I am." Twilight tapped the table lightly with her hooves. "That I am."

A long moment passed between them in silence. Twilight didn't want to avoid Rarity's gaze, or leave the room -- she was her friend, and she liked her, and nothing had happened that had erased the bedrock of their friendship -- but she was hesitant to push forward. It was like time had stopped, like they would live together in this moment forever until one of them had the courage to break the spell.

"Breakfast should be on its way soon," she said. It felt like awkward small-talk, insignificant prattle about the weather or the nice shade of the walls. But it also felt like she had just invoked a deadline pressing in on them; if neither of them escaped from their current stasis by the time the tray of bagels and croissants manifested, the chance to move forward might just disappear, ebb away like a shallow puddle in the hot sun.

"That's good," Rarity agreed. She looked lost in the same mire of recursive thoughts Twilight found herself in.

Taking a deep breath, making it purposefully loud enough that Rarity would hear her, Twilight balled up her courage and brought forth words: "We need to talk about this, don't we?"

Rarity looked at her. She was not a stranger to whirlwind romance, of two ships that pass in the night. They could be pleasant experiences, treasured ones even, something to remember fondly and mark as a point of growth. Last night could be that. It could be their secret, hers and Twilight's, discrete as if it had never happened except for the occasional glace, the occasional shared laugh that would be for them and none of their friends. And they would remain friends, unchanged. Perhaps a moment in the far-flung future of heartbreak and bitterness would cause one to run to the other, first for support, then for comfort, then for love, knowing she could be relied upon for all three, knowing their shared private history. Perhaps.

She didn't like how that path made her feel, but she could see it clearly unfolding before her. But the other... she couldn't picture herself and Twilight together. Not as a couple in secret, not as one out in the open. She couldn't see the reaction of their friends, of their families, of the world at large. She couldn't know if Twilight would drop in at Carousel Boutique just to be with her while she worked, if she would have a room in Twilight's castle all to herself, if they would eat daisies in the streets of Ponyville or finely-sliced truffles in the private rooms of Canterlot's most exclusive restaurants, if it would end in shouting and sobbing or hugging and parting ways or the mysterious haze of happily ever after. It was a complete unknown, and it scared her.

But what scared her more was that Twilight may not be willing to risk it with her.

"We do," she agreed at last.

"We slept together," Twilight said, trying to imagine crossing bullet points off a list rather than the feel of Rarity's body between her hooves.

"We did."

"I enjoyed it."

"As did I." The sound of Twilight panting yes with ragged breaths as her climax quickened returned to her, and she smiled involuntarily.

Twilight smiled back at her, then glanced down at the illegible print of an upside-down newspaper. It felt like she had lost her place in her notes. Focus on checking the boxes off. Not on Rarity smiling. "Which we did," she continued, "after pretending to be a couple in secret."

"Which was fun," Rarity said.

"It was."

Rarity stifled her next thought ("We should do it again some time."); it was flippant and inappropriate, even if it was true to how she felt.

"So," Twilight said, tapping idly on the table again. "Where do we go from here?"

"I don't know," Rarity said. And she didn't.

"I was thinking," Twilight said, the words feeling long and loose in her mouth, "we still have one day here. Where we both have other, um..."

"Obligations?" Rarity supplied.

"Yes. And that perhaps we should first focus on those, not because they are more important but because they are time-sensitive, and once those are out of the way we can focus on... us, and what to do about..."

Twilight's hooves drummed on the table, and she looked around every part of the hotel room before her eyes finally settled on Rarity.

"...Us," she finished, resigned to repeating herself.

"My meeting with Fair Banks could lead to quite important things," Rarity agreed, "to say nothing of the Open Forum."

"Yes," Twilight said, "yes, we shouldn't neglect either of those things."

"A little time can give some well-reasoned perspective."

"But we're not putting anything off."

"Absolutely not. We're being rational and mature."

"Yes. Exactly what I thought. Rational and mature. Good. That's the way to handle things."

"It is."

"I think the coffee is ready."

"That's good too."

"I'll pour some."

"For me too."

"Of course."

"Good."

"Good."

Twilight took a deep breath and bit her lip. Being lost on uncharted ground was daunting, but it was good to know she had Rarity by her side, still. They'd find their way somewhere together, wherever their way ended up being.

"Good," she repeated, and she rose from the table.

Rarity glanced at the newspaper as Twilight dealt with the kettle. She had a passing thought to check the papers for more rumors about them, then thought better of it. That was for later. She also remembered she was without her robe, but that could also wait.

Twilight had turned away from the table to fix the coffee. She didn't need to pay attention to what she was doing -- she could have avoided looking at the whole process until two steaming cups floated to the table -- but there was something she wanted to say, and it would be easier to say it with her back to Rarity.

"I like your mane like that," she said to the coffeepot, and smiled at herself.

She didn't see Rarity's smile, similarly quiet and personal. "Darling," she said, "my mane is a mess."

"Mm, I know." Twilight turned back around with the coffee mugs, and sat them on the table. "I like it."

Rarity touched a hoof to her mane and examined the unruly curls forming there. "You know, it's not many ponies who get to see me like this," she said.

The urge to kiss her was suddenly very strong; Twilight may have if there hadn't been a table between them. "I know that too," she settled for saying, and sat opposite Rarity.

Together they sipped their coffee. They waited for breakfast, and for the rest of the day.

Monday - Solo (Twilight)

The doors to the auditorium seemed so boring, Twilight thought. This was a big and important event. She had put a lot of work into helping arrange it, and even more preparing for it. And all that kept her from a room full of the most important and influential ponies in Equestria was these mundane doors.

There could at least be a nice color on them, she thought. Something more interesting than dishwater grey.

"Are you ready, Twilight?" Princess Celestia asked, leaning down from behind her.

"Yes," she said, pushing open the doors, quieting the crowd that waited behind them.

-/-

Twilight recognized the next speaker to address the panel as she stood. "Sunbeam, Mayor of Las Pegasus," she said, her voice languid despite its intensity. "A question for Princess Twilight."

Twilight sat at attention, this having been the first question aimed directly at her. "Ask away," she said.

"If a mayor wishes to govern her city in opposition to the law set by one of the princesses for Equestria as a whole, how much leeway would she be given to accommodate the city's specific needs?"

It felt like a trick question; Twilight was sure there would be a follow-up, since as it stood this was definitely more of a question for Celestia. "A lot. Each city and town in Equestria is unique, and so can't possibly be governed by one universal set of laws. We intend any law set by one of us to be malleable and available for challenge, either in specific or broad application. I believe there's already a long list of precedents where Princess Celestia's decrees have been amended in the past--"

"I am aware of them, yes," Sunbeam said.

"Is there a situation you had in mind?" Twilight asked, then added with a smile, "Perhaps we could sort it out now."

Light general laughter rippled through the auditorium. Sunbeam didn't join in, but Twilight suspected she was a pony for whom laughter didn't come easily; her serene mask hadn't faltered the whole time she had spoken.

"Las Pegasus derives a large portion of its income in trade with many Zebrican states," she said. "If Equestria were to go to war with Zebrica, assuming I could maintain a civil relationship with the Zebrican leaders I know personally, would I be forced to let Las Pegasus suffer economically without a flow of exports and imports, or would I be free to instruct cargo ship captains to break the war blockade?"

Twilight blinked. "Are you expecting Equestria to be at war with Zebrica any time soon?"

"It was just a theoretical scenario. Wartime forbids trade to any aggressor nation."

"I am aware. Though Equestria has not been at war in over seven centuries."

"Perhaps a more peaceful example: the Zebrican caliph has grievously insulted you in some way, and you decree a moratorium on trade until they apologize."

Now she smiled, a thin curve of her mouth, and the collection of mayors and nobles laughed, and Twilight smiled. This was good. This was what the open forum was meant to promote, the breaking down of the barriers that so many ponies saw around Equestria's princesses.

"Well," she said, "one of those situations may be handled with a slightly more open mind that the other." More laughter. "In the case of war, it might be possible to transport strictly non-combat goods, provided both incoming and outgoing cargo is thoroughly inspected and the nature and scale of the conflict allowed oceanic transport to continue. Lost revenue could be compensated through royal appeal after the cessation of hostilities.

"In the case of me being theoretically insulted by the caliph, I might see fit to allow trade to some areas, provided individual Zebrican leaders wrote to me to decry this terrible insult, saying that they do not agree with the caliph one bit, and also that I am their favorite princess."

Twilight intentionally paused for the crowd to laugh.

"But this just illustrates my point: each situation is unique. We are always striving to make life the best it can be for the most amount of ponies, and that is a large task even for four princesses, so please, do not hesitate to convince us of ways we could be doing things better."

Sounds of general approval. Sunbeam also seemed satisfied, as she resumed her seat.

Twilight took a sip from her water, and found to her surprise that her hoof was steady and stable in holding the glass. Public speaking used to terrify her. She'd dreaded every presentation she'd ever given in front of a class, and one of her favorite things about being Celestia's personal student was no other students in the room (and Celestia was much more interested in pouring over papers than listening to Twilight stammer through a talk while fumbling at her notes, thankfully). Maybe she'd faced enough dangerous situations that might have actually killed her to have internalized that speaking in front of a crowd wouldn't. Maybe she was finally comfortable with being the pony other ponies looked to in crisis, for guidance. Comfortable with being a princess.

It had taken its time, but maybe Twilight had finally managed.

Twilight smiled into her glass, thinking of how Rarity would look when she told her about how she had handled herself, how she filled a princess' horseshoes. How Rarity would smile.

-/-

When the day was over, and there were only the four princesses left in the auditorium, Twilight looked out over the rows and rows of empty seats. It wasn't that much different from a stage. She hadn't done something that much different from a performance.

"I think that went pretty well," Cadance said, breaking the silence.

"I look forward to the next Forum," Luna said, "a year from now."

"Do you think you can cause an even bigger commotion next time?" Celestia asked, a playful note in her voice.

"Sister," Luna said gravely, "I have a whole year with which to plan."

Twilight glanced back at the three of them, still behind the panel. "I think I'm going to go," she said. "I, uh, have somewhere I need to be."

"Of course, Twilight," Celestia said.

"Do not let us keep you," Luna added.

Twilight smiled at them. Then she saw Cadance, who was smiling too, an all-knowing, encouraging smile. She had known all along. She had known the whole time. But that was only fitting.

"Good luck," Cadance told her.

Twilight didn't need it.

Monday - Reprise

Twilight lay a hoof on the golden handle of her hotel door. From inside the room, Rarity's ears twitched at the sound of the lock.

It didn't surprise Twilight to find Rarity in her room, or on her bed, waiting with her legs tucked under her body. She slid closed the latch that locked the door, and Rarity started talking.

"Everything went well with Fair Banks," she said, "and it was all over much quicker than I had anticipated. He speaks awfully fast, you might have noticed. And I considered browsing some of the boutiques in the main street, because who knows when I'll be here next with free time, we're always off on some adventure or another that's taking us far away from anywhere that sells nice things, aren't we? But I didn't quite feel like having the attention of the clerks, having them fawn over me to encourage the sale of a diamond this or a cashmere that, so I found myself back in my room. And I took a bath and washed my mane, and sent up for some food, and at some point it occurred to me that our rooms were connected, and I could just wait here. So that's what I've been doing, just watching the sun and waiting."

She glanced away from Twilight, then back up at her with her eyes wide and vulnerable.

"I missed you," she said.

Twilight had headed back to the hotel at a brisk trot, telling herself that she was at her limit for interacting with anypony else, even Cadance, even Celestia, and that she was hurrying through the streets to get back to her private little sanctum to take off her regalia and maybe spend the rest of the evening with the book she was halfway through. She had told herself these things, and perhaps this had been the busy planning her brain had been doing as the forum wound to a close, but it was her heart that knew the truth.

"I missed you, too," she said.

Rarity rose from the bed, her shadow long on the wall in the afternoon sun. She went to Twilight, slowly, assuredly, and she touched a hoof to Twilight's cheek, and slid the crown from her head, and stroked Twilight's mane, straightening her forelock with care. Twilight allowed herself to be touched, pressing against Rarity's hoof and sighing and closing her eyes, but only for very brief moments as she didn't want to lose contact with Rarity's piercing eyes. She floated the crown to its place in the open box on the writing desk for her royal jewellery, and Rarity continued to touch her, slow methodical caresses, and continued to stare into her. She was so beautiful.

Next the necklace was unclasped, shimmering as it captured and held the light of the sun in its liquid gold surface. Rarity held it with her hooves, then held it with her magic, and placed it in its place. She touched Twilight's coat where it had sat, smoothing it as she had her mane, relishing the warmth of her body, and she smiled at Twilight's trembling gasp. It felt so good, that firm and simple brushing of her pelt, and Twilight thought wildly that this, this is the reason we have loneliness and isolation and separation, so that it can feel this good when we connect with another pony, be it an understanding of souls or a touch of the hooves. Rarity was slow and sure, finding places on her that she didn't know were crying for attention. It could have looked innocent if seen with outside eyes -- it could have been a massage, from a friend to another, at the end of a long day -- but to Rarity it was the most sensual act she had ever partaken in, want flowing out of her and Twilight, meeting where they touched, combining and flooding the room with a coiled energy greater than the sum of its parts.

Rarity knelt to take the first of Twilight's golden shoes. There was a ritual quality to this all, one that evoked a servant dressing down royalty but didn't embody it. She was removing Twilight's costume, the last costume, the real costume, as she had let hers fall by the wayside over this long day, and they would face each other, naked and unarmored, as equals on every field. The play was over, the audience gone home, and there was just her and Twilight left behind the stage, and Rarity could see her as she truly was, and it made her heart stop. Last night had been a blur, a frantic haze of lust; now Twilight had the clarity and experience to anticipate what would follow but retained the exuberance for it to happen and her to be a part of it. She was caught between princess and student. She was Twilight at her most captivating, and oh, how she was captivated.

Twilight lifted her hoof to let Rarity take another shoe. It was so slow, maddeningly so, but she realized it wouldn't do to move any faster, to hurry along to the end. This was the last performance, the real performance, the one that stripped away time and place and the outside world and left only the connection between two ponies, a blazing tether along which undiluted emotions ran. Rarity fixed her with her eyes, her cool diamond eyes, never breaking contact with her own and causing her breath to race. The night before had been all momentum, more of their play-acting accidentally spilling over into the territory of reality, but now Rarity was no longer acting; this was the real Rarity, and she was making her intentions clear with every ounce of her. She was so inviting and so predatory. She was Rarity at most most seductive, and oh, how she was seduced.

The last of the shoes floated into its soft velvet home. The lid of the box closed with a light click. Rarity rose and met Twilight with a kiss, measured and tempered as when she had stripped her of her royal raiment. Twilight stroked her cheek, soft and warm as her lips. They broke, gazing into each other's eyes, muzzle resting against muzzle, horns crossed.

"I want you," Rarity whispered, and Twilight replied, "then take me."

They kissed again with urgency, lips pressing, tongues colliding. With eyes closed Rarity mapped Twilight's face, her cheeks held between her forehooves, holding her, guiding her, leading her, and Twilight let herself be led, melting into each kiss tasting of sweet vanilla and wild cinnamon. Her lips roamed, grazed the tip of her nose, her brow, fluttered deliciously around the base of her horn, and Twilight moaned as she felt magic flow not from her but back into her, a delirious twisting sensation like being in freefall. Rarity's teeth bit lightly on Twilight's ear, pulling, tugging, and Twilight murmured, "Mmm," against Rarity's soft underhoof, "that's good."

Rarity draped herself over Twilight with an arm across her withers, Twilight's ear in her mouth as she gasped into the frog of her other hoof. "Do you like that?" she whispered, and Twilight breathed, "yes, yes," to tickle Rarity's sensitive hoof, and she ran her lips down Twilight's ear and her tongue over the tip of Twilight's horn, making her stomach roil and her nethers clench, and she wrapped herself around Twilight to nibble on her other ear and she groaned deep in her throat, so loud that Rarity could feel the sound as it traveled through her, and Twilight said words which shot an electric shiver into Rarity, something she never could have imagined Twilight saying, which only made it more naughty, more forbidden: "You're making me wet..."

"Am I...?" Rarity said around her teeth, not letting go of Twilight's ear, feeling the heat of her own arousal. "Yes," Twilight sighed, and Rarity bit, unleashing a torrent of Twilight's desires: "I want you to kiss me, lick me, all over--"

It was impossible to say if Rarity pulled Twilight or Twilight drove Rarity towards the bed. Both were true.

"--Lick between my legs, lick me with your tongue--"

Twilight fell onto the bed and Rarity came with her, pinning her in place with her hind legs around her barrel. Twilight's mane spread out on the sheets, her wings extended to the edges of the bed, and Rarity kissed her, her hooves, her horn, her chest, marking her, owning her, and still she spoke on.

"--Lick me, lick all of me, lick inside of me Rarity--"

Her tongue brushed through the coat on Twilight's chest, leaving a ruffled trail, up her neck, her jaw, her waiting lips. Through their kiss Twilight begged her:

"--Make me come, Rarity, make me come with your tongue."

And how could she refuse? She loosened her hold around Twilight, and Twilight felt Rarity's pleasant weight upon her lessen. She rose up, looking down at Twilight, still straddling her. Rarity ran her tongue across her lips, and Twilight took a deep breath and bit her lip.

But Rarity did not move down. She wasn't content to wriggle back, not with the maddening heat-ache that had awoken at Twilight's words gnawing at her. Twilight's desperation was her desperation. She did not move down: instead she turned, crawled so that she was faced towards Twilight's hindquarters and her long tail brushed across Twilight's face. She glanced back at Twilight, and for a second she was puzzled, and then it bloomed on her, the smile, the smile that was dirty and knowing and wanton, the same smile that grew on her own face as she dipped between Twilight's legs. Rarity tasted her, sweet and bitter and sexual above all things, and Twilight put her tongue to Rarity's own burning sex. They were joined, connected, intimately linked.

Rarity had been going to make Twilight climax under her lapping tongue, truly she had been, but she found it impossible a task to completely concentrate on with Twilight licking her lower lips, hard and soft and rough and smooth all at the same time. She would find a rhythm and Twilight would break it with a swirl over the hood of her sensitive button, and she would moan with her muzzle pressed up against Twilight's parted cleft, and she would feel that wonderful vibration of sound ripple through her, hardening her nipples, tingling in her horn, making her belly quake with fire, and her eyelids would flutter and she would smile as she slipped her tongue into Rarity's wet folds, tasting her and teasing her. The bed was so soft and cool, and Rarity so soft and warm, and everything she did with her tongue felt so good, there was no reason to let any of it finish. They could just stay in this oroborean cycle of pleasure for as long as time would allow them to. Twilight let her hooves rest on Rarity's firm rump, and gasped when Rarity surprised her with a long, sensuous lick that reached deep inside of her.

On and on their pleasure rose, sometimes a brief dip, sometimes a plateau, never cresting. Twilight felt herself coming close, teetering at the edge with naught but a few well-placed naughty thoughts to tip her over, but she held back. She pulled away from Rarity, who almost cried out: she had been nearly there, just a little longer...!

"Why did you stop?" she asked as Twilight disentangled herself, but Twilight didn't reply, just crept to Rarity until they were face to face. Rarity had propped herself up on one arm and Twilight was leaning over her, both their muzzles matted and damp, both their nethers buzzing. Twilight leaned in to Rarity, and she had just enough time to fight the urge to pull back and politely suggest they wash up a little first before Twilight licked her muzzle, tasting herself off of Rarity's coat, and an image came to her that was so strong it just had to be true -- younger Twilight, curious Twilight, inquisitive Twilight, fresh from a session of teenage self-pleasure, slipping a hoof between her legs to her sated sex and bringing it up to taste of the slick juices she found with her experimental tongue -- and she let Twilight clean her as she trembled, and she kissed her, tasting the musk of her own arousal all over her.

She held Twilight around her back and Twilight engulfed her in her wings, and they pressed their bodies close together, rolling on the silky exquisite bed. Rarity let her hoof wander down Twilight's side, over her cutie mark, between her thighs, and as she pressed it against her waiting flower, wet and warm and wanting, she felt something touch her where she most desperately needed to be touched; Twilight was using her magic again, no specialized spell but the familiar touch every unicorn knew, and it was almost indistinguishable from a caress from her physical self. They were locked in their kiss still, wrapped in each other, ready to finish as one.

Neither lasted long.

Twilight tensed and Rarity felt the rising wave of pleasure blank her mind as they climaxed together, a sweet, sweet end that did not define the journey but only marked a resting point. Twilight shivered in Rarity's embrace. Rarity pressed herself against Twilight's coat. Together they lay, covered in sweat, smelling of sex, faces flushed, heartbeats fast, breaths deep, content, exhausted, spent.

Rarity opened her eyes to see the room had become darker. The sun had set in the time of their lovemaking, replaced by the lights of the city and of the stars. "Mm," she said into Twilight's chest, "we missed the fireworks."

Lightly stroking her mane, Twilight said, "I saw fireworks," and she said it in a tone that was so straightforward and matter-of-fact that Rarity didn't realize Twilight had been making a joke until she started laughing.

Rarity joined her, even if it was an awful joke, the sensations of being so close to Twilight comforting. "That's dreadful," she told her, smiling.

"I know."

"You should be whispering sweet nothings in my ear, like any good princess trying to woo her suitor."

Twilight snickered. It was good to laugh, to talk. She felt open, light, free. "Are you saying you are insufficiently wooed?"

Rarity lay her head against Twilight's chest and looked up into her sparkling purple eyes. "Not at all. Your wooing has been most satisfactory."

"What we were just doing wasn't wooing," Twilight said, feeling a cheeky grin spread on her face.

"Dreadful," Rarity repeated, and she stretched up to kiss her.

Twilight kissed her back, and kissed the tip of her nose for good measure. "I don't think I'm really the sweet nothings type, anyway," she said.

"I suspect nopony really is." She rested against Twilight, looking out the hotel window. "It only exists in frightfully tacky romance novels, of which I may be guilty of having read one too many."

Twilight brushed Rarity's coat with the tip of her wing. She hadn't experimented much with their dexterity, their tactile ability. Initial impression: Rarity felt nice. "Shouldn't it be suitors who are trying to woo princesses," she asked, "in these novels?"

"That's what makes them frightfully tacky. I was always partial to the kind where some member of the nobility falls in love from afar with a commoner, and tries to impress upon her the benefits of a noble life."

"Does she take them up on the offer in the end, or do they live together at her humble cottage?"

"It varies."

Twilight looked out the window, up at the stars and the lavender sky, thinking about all the books she had read in a room like this. "I kind of had a soft spot for stories where the smart-but-naive protagonist falls for a charming worldly rogue," she said, "often after a lot of protesting about how she could never be interested in a pony like that."

"Is that what I am?" Rarity asked, tapping her hoof lightly on Twilight's chest. "A charming worldly rogue?"

"I'm not sure." She looked at her. Rarity might have had a rogue's smile, were she a swarthy stallion instead of a refined mare; Twilight felt a reaction similar to that of a smart-but-naive heroine towards it, anyway. "I don't think we fit neatly into an archetype," she said.

"Well, why should we?" Rarity said. "Our story is yet to be written."

"Yeah," Twilight agreed, "it's just beginning."

She took a deep breath as the smiled faded from their faces, having realized what she had just said. What they had said. It was sobering. A little scary. But a lot exciting.

"It is just beginning, isn't it?" she repeated.

"It is," Rarity said.

It was thrilling, embarking on this journey in the dark. Intimidating, but what Rarity felt most was the flutter of excitement in anticipation of seeing what lay around each new twist and turn. So many things would be new to her, least of all being in a relationship with royalty; she had never had a lover who had begun as her friend.

"Though," she said, "I dare say we have one of the most important aspects covered already."

"Good sex?" Twilight said innocently, trying to keep her face as neutral as possible.

Rarity spluttered, which made it impossible for Twilight to contain her laughter. "No! I was trying to make a point about our friendship." She tapped her again, a little harder this time, but still well within the boundaries of being playful.

"I guess I should have picked up on that," Twilight said, still attempting neutrality, "me being the Princess of Friendship and all."

After kissing her chest and smoothing out the spot where her hoof had landed, Rarity settled her head back down. "I suppose that's two things we have covered," she said with a smile Twilight couldn't see, but she shared regardless.

They watched the twinkling stars and the darkening sky in comfortable silence. The minutes passed slowly, their bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. From their private cocoon, the world seemed still.

It was Rarity who spoke first. "Do you want to send up for some dinner?" she asked, her voice seeming out of place.

"Actually," Twilight said, "I was thinking about going out."

"Hm. A novel concept." Rarity turned a little to prop herself up over Twilight. "Did you have any place in mind?"

"Not really. But I think we could find somewhere without a reservation." She ruffled her wings and smiled.

"Rank does have its privileges." She rolled out of bed, the floor feeling cold and hard compared to the bed and Twilight. "If time permits, I believe I shall have a brisk shower before we leave."

Twilight sat up and was able to see her reflection in the mirror. She poked at her lopsided mane with a hoof. "I guess we have kinda bad bed-mane, huh?"

"Twilight, dear," Rarity said, glancing at her own reflection, "that is unmistakably sex-mane."

Chuckling, Twilight said, "Maybe it would start a new trend if a princess went out with her mane all wild like this."

"Cause a minor scandal, at the very least."

"Best not to risk it."

"I'd think not. I'll have that shower now, I think." Rarity stepped towards the shared bathroom door.

Twilight intercepted her, a grin on her face. She was thinking of showers, of Rarity under cascading steamy water.

"What?" Rarity asked, puzzled. Did Twilight not want her to leave?

"I just thought I would have a shower too, is all."

Twilight was very bad at playing innocent. "Oh, I see," Rarity said, allowing Twilight to squeeze past her. She flicked her with her tail, then followed her into the bathroom. "It's such a shame that we have only the one shower between us."

"Such a shame indeed."

-/-

It was a while before they left the hotel to eat.

Tuesday - Curtain Fall

They left the hotel in the early morning when the air was still cool. Rarity was not cold, but she still pressed herself into Twilight's side as they waited for the train. Twilight rubbed back against her, aware other ponies were walking the streets, and she found herself not caring.

"Hey," she asked, suddenly remembering something that had seemed extremely important at some point in the distant past, "I wonder if we made the papers."

"You know, I'd completely forgotten about that." Rarity glanced around, spotting a newspaper stand across the street where a filly was busily unloading stacks of newspapers from a cart. "Aha," she said, pointing.

They trotted to it together, scanning the papers on display. All the headlines were awash with Princess Luna's surprise display at the opera the night before. The Journal claimed PRINCESS LUNA TO MAKE STATEMENT ON THESTRALS; the Manehatten Times, far more damning, demanded to know WHAT ELSE AREN'T YOU TELLING US?

"Look," Twilight observed, "there's the Post."

"Well." Rarity held up a bit. "Shall we?"

-/-

They skimmed through the edition of the Post on the train platform, the front page with its bold and bizarre claim of BAT-PONIES: FROM THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON! There were multiple conflicting speculations on the origins of the bat-ponies -- Rarity quite enjoyed the idea that they were visitors from the future, Twilight had a good laugh about them supposedly coming from the center of the earth -- and countless reports of readers being attacked by bat-ponies or having their crops ruined by bat-ponies or being intimately involved with bat-ponies, and one quite mad tale of a furniture maker who had seen a vision of the bat-ponies living in harmony with the other three pony races under the sea after a long afternoon in an enclosed basement full of pots of varnish.

"We don't even rate the back pages," Rarity said, pouting.

"Well." Twilight folded the copy of the Post up. "That certainly didn't amount to much." She glanced at Rarity and smiled.

Rarity smiled back. "Mm," she said, pressing her cheek to Twilight's, "definitely nothing to write home about." She nodded to an engine pulling into the station, a chain of carriages behind it. "I think that's our train."

Twilight and Rarity were not the only passengers, but they did find a space for themselves in a walled-off booth intended for four. They watched the train pull away from the station, away from Canterlot, rolling back to Ponyville. When they had arrived, their seats had been opposite each other; now they sat side by side.

Twilight pressed her face to the glass to see the tip of Canterlot Castle, the high needle spire that topped the mountain. "I always enjoyed leaving Canterlot," she said. "That makes it sound like I hated being there, doesn't it? I didn't. I don't think I did. But I liked leaving. I liked escaping into books and I liked physically leaving the city behind. I think I always knew I didn't really belong there. Like it was all just preparing for something else, and one day I'd spread my wings and fly off." She smiled to her reflection in the window. "Of course, that was more metaphorical back then.

"But now I'm kind of sad to see it go." She turned to Rarity, who was watching her intently. "You know? We have to leave the training area and go back out there. Back into the real world."

Rarity placed a hoof over Twilight's, and squeezed. "May I tell you a story about the real world?" she asked, and Twilight nodded.

She closed her eyes, searching for the right place to start.

"Once upon a time," she said, "there was a little filly who wanted nothing more than to be a princess, because of course princesses got to wear all the fanciest gowns and attend the nicest tea parties."

Twilight giggled a little at this little filly's interpretation of being a princess.

"And she looked at the rest of her life, the little town she was born in, the rest of her family, and she saw they weren't anything like what a princess was supposed to be surrounded with! They were so common, they were so provincial, there must have been some mistake. And she cried and cried and cried, oh woe is me, for having the misfortune of being so destined for a life of beauty and sophistication but stuck somewhere where it was all out of reach."

"What did she do, this little filly?"

"She decided," Rarity said, "that if she hadn't been born somewhere beautiful and sophisticated, then it was her mission in life to make everyone around her beautiful and sophisticated, and that path would lead her all the way out of Ponyville and up into Canterlot Castle."

Twilight suddenly felt ashamed of ever rejecting the trappings of being a princess. "I'm sorry I grew up there," she said, "and that you didn't." It felt like she had squandered something.

Rarity touched a hoof to Twilight's chin. "I'm not." She was smiling. "If I would have been raised with everything I ever wanted out of life I would have been insufferable. So would we all, I think. It's not the end that defines the journey--" She leaned over to quickly peck at Twilight's cheek. "--But the path we take to get there."

Smiling, Twilight kissed her back. "Was she happy, the little filly?" she asked. "When she got everything she wanted?"

Rarity lay her head on Twilight's shoulder. "She was. She was very happy."

The train sped on, back to Ponyville, back to four friends who would be waiting for them on the platform.

Monday - Solo (Rarity)

The lobby of the Saddleton revealed it to be thoroughly modern on the inside, stark white and gleaming metallic finish, in contrast to its classic exterior. Rarity strode across the marble floor, intent on asking at reception which room a mister Fair Banks was staying in, but she needn't have bothered; he sprang out of a seat tucked in the far corner and flew to intercept her, his goggles swaying at his neck.

"Rarity!" he exclaimed. "Up early in the morning, another admirable quality. Shall we retreat to my temporary abode, so that I can wow you with my presentation?"

Rarity never broke stride. "We shall," she said, her hooves clacking against the floor.

-/-

"...And she knocks the Ram King into the gorgon's pit, crash!, and close-up on his face as the shadow falls over him and he's turned to stone!"

Fair Banks held up his hooves in defense, mimicking the pose the wicked Ram King would be frozen in.

"Then Daring dives into the pit! She shuts her eyes and she's searching for the mirror shield. Where is it? Wasn't it here? She can't open her eyes and risk being petrified by the gorgon, but we can hear the hissing snakes coming closer! She's scrabbling with her hooves - she's found the shield! She grabs it and rolls away just in time to dodge one of the snakes striking with its deadly venom!

"She's adjusting the mirror, looking around the pit - there's the Ram King! The scepter is still in his cloven hoof! Daring edges towards the gorgon behind the mirrored shield, and when she's close enough... she tosses it, stunning the snarling beast, and snatching the scepter! She flies to freedom! Disaster is averted, the tsunami can be stopped and the pearl divers' village is saved!"

Rarity sat upright in her seat. She didn't think being at the edge of one's seat was more than a figure of speech, but listening to Banks' pitch, she could see how a pony more enthralled with Daring Do's derring-do might be inclined to make the figurative literal. His enthusiasm was infectious.

"Hurrah!" she exclaimed, and politely applauded.

"And then," Fair Banks said, holding a hoof out to a distant horizon that existed far beyond the walls of his hotel suite, "Daring Do gallops off into the sunset, on her way to more thrilling adventures in far-flung lands." He traced an invisible Daring Do's progress into an imaginary sunset.

"I must say," Rarity said, "you do paint quite the vivid picture with just words."

Banks wiped his forehead with the back of his hoof, the toll of putting on a one-pony performance evident in his labored breathing. "So imagine how much better it's going to be up on the big screen in full color. One hundred times the grandeur, one thousand times the spectacle."

She could see it in her mind, too. The humble and traditional garb of the sheltered pearl divers, the splendor of the court of the Ram King, the mysterious and otherworldly priests of the Sunken Temple, and of course the Ram King himself, clad in bejeweled golden armor. She could put her stamp on it all, her mark on Fair Banks' vision of Daring Do's world. Every pony who bought a ticket would see her work; not all of them would appreciate it in the way she wanted, of course, but the kind of reach it might have... it would surpass any fashion show out of Ponyville and the occasional magazine write-up, that was for sure.

And yet Fair Banks was looking at her with all the hope in the world in his eyes, waiting for her to agree to his proposal. She was the one being pitched to. She was the one being convinced, because as far as he knew, she was the pony who would hold open the door for him that led to bigger and better things.

This was arrival. Rarity had made it.

She gave a coy shrug and said, "It sounds impossible to refuse," noting the way Banks' eyes lit up at her acceptance. "I do have a question, though: which novel inspired this story? I'm not greatly familiar with Daring Do in the same way as my friend Twilight, but I have read them and I can't seem to recall a Sunken Temple or a Ram King."

"Ah, that's the beautiful part, the picture's a completely original story given the go-ahead by A. K. Yearling herself. Nothing the audience has ever seen before, no rehashes, no adaptations, a complete mystery even to the die-hard fans. And -- and here's the really brilliant part -- there's vital information about A. K. Yearling's next Daring Do book cleverly sprinkled through the film! Everypony needs to get to the theater before it comes out or they won't know the whole story, then they see it again to catch the little clues they missed. The film promotes the book, the book promotes the film -- cross-promotion, it's the way of the future."

Rarity smiled to herself, thinking of how much Twilight would be overjoyed to be hearing this inside information, seeing her bright eyes and eager smile.

-/-

Back at the hotel, her room felt very quiet. Empty. She still had the rest of the day, but Rarity found she didn't want much to use it.

She drew herself a bath in the shared bathroom and submerged herself in the warm water, dipping her head under and wetting her mane. This was how she would relax herself, but today it didn't relax her.

An idea struck her. She tested the door to Twilight's room with her magic, and found it opened. She could see her bed, a thin sliver of the window, and Twilight's trunk full of books. Aha. She bade the topmost one come to her. It was Understanding 'The Underworld'.

Rarity summoned her glasses from her own room, turned to the first page, and started reading. This, she felt, she could pass the rest of the day doing.