Princess Rarity carried herself with the grace of a noblelady many years her senior. No matter the situation, she maintained steady control--the perfect demeanor for the future queen.
Knowing that, Twilight tried to ignore the stream of curses coming from the bedroom, lest it poison her perception of the fair lady.
When it seemed there was no sign of her stopping, Twilight delicately slipped through the door and asked, "Everything all right, Your Highness?"
Rarity was currently bedecked in what Twilight jokingly called her "tailor's garb"--her mane pulled back in a bun, a measuring tape around her neck, and a pair of glasses for close-range vision upon her snout. She looked up helplessly as Twilight entered. "My apologies, Twilight. It's just that this... this monstrosity of a dress refuses to conform to my vision!"
"Mean words will not get it any closer," Twilight reminded her.
"I know that!" Rarity gave an unladylike snort. "Those are solely for my benefit. If you saw how this dress was coming along, you'd say the same."
Twilight gave the dress a more thorough review. For Rarity's first major project, it was surprisingly competent. The colors fit together quite well, and the stitching could have been mistaken for a pro's. But Twilight could see that the cut was all wrong, and the gemstones along the neckline stood out too much, among other things.
"It's quite nice," Twilight offered.
"Nice? I need it to be spectacular for the Winter's Ball coming up. Otherwise, what was the point?" She fell into a frankly spectacular crying jag, the kind that exhibited more heat than light. (Twilight had become an expert in Rarity's many different attempts to draw attention to herself.)
Twilight sighed. "It is a perfectly fine dress. Frankly, after starting your career in dressmaking less than six months ago, it's better than anypony could expect."
Rarity threw her tape on the floor and set her glasses on her nightstand. "Anypony except me, I'm afraid. I could almost see this as acceptable for one of the staff here in the castle, but for a lady of my position? It would be a disgrace."
"Your father has selected a lovely piece from Short Measure," Twilight offered. "You know that is always available should you desire it."
"Bah. I know I've got it in me, but..." She waved at it, as though willing it to make her ideas appear magically. "What do you think? What do I need to do to fix it?"
"Well, I'm not the designer here, but... perhaps the gems on the neckline are a bit excessive?"
Rarity sighed. "You're right, of course. They'd be positively stifling on whoever was wearing them. If I got rid of those, maybe, just maybe, this dress wouldn't look like complete--"
Twilight hastily ducked out of the room again before Rarity started on the more colorful words. Though one door would not shield her from Rarity's language, she could at least give Rarity her privacy and pretend she couldn't hear it. Though she might need to have a talk with Rarity's father about Rarity's visits to the docks where the sailors worked.
~~~
For a while, Twilight thought that was the end of it. If there was one thing Rarity was good at, it was maintaining a good appearance for others. But it seemed her struggles with the dress were escalating, as after a royal council session, which both Rarity and Sweetie Belle were required to attend, Rarity's father, the king, pulled Twilight aside and asked what was bothering Rarity so badly. "I noticed every time she seemed about to offer her opinion, she would stop herself and wrinkle her snout," he said.
"I see," said Twilight. "I was afraid this might happen. She's trying to make a dress for the ball, and it's not coming out to her perfect perception of what it should look like. It's destroying her self-confidence."
"Is it really as bad as all that?" he asked.
"Not at all, my liege! She's been picking it up as though it were second nature. In another life, I could see her doing it for a living. But, well, even the best have to start from somewhere."
"Very true. I can just imagine how your first attempts at magic went," he said, pointing to Twilight's cutie mark.
"Not nearly as well as Rarity's dressmaking, I can assure you, my liege," Twilight said with a chuckle. "But that is a story for another time. I only wish there was some way to help the princess. I can't stand to see her so disheartened."
"I trust your judgment, Twilight," said the king. "Do what you think is best. But having known Rarity since she was a baby, I suspect it may just be a tantrum. Let her fuss for a little while, and she'll burn herself out, or find something else to worry about."
"Of course, my liege. It's just that..." Twilight sighed. "I really do think there's something there. The last thing I want is for her to give up on it for good because of her disappointment in her growth."
"Very well. Thank you for keeping me up to speed, Twilight," the king said. He smiled, which always warmed Twilight's heart. The king generally kept a very stern demeanor, so seeing him smile told her he trusted and respected her a great deal. "You spend much more time with her than I do, but for my part, I'll do what I can to help cheer her up. I wish you the best of luck."
"Thank you, my liege." As she headed over to where Rarity was chatting with her sister, she considered the king's words. "Cheer her up..." Yes, of course. In these positions, Rarity tended to fall into a vicious cycle. Each failure worsened her mood, and in her anger, she made more slip-ups. Perhaps if Twilight could lighten Rarity's mood, the circle would run in reverse. And Twilight knew there was only one thing that could make Rarity smile like nopony's business.
~~~
"Buttercream!" While Rarity and her family were luncheoning in the main hall, Twilight had stepped into the kitchens to look for the chief baker. She wound her way around busy cooks preparing the various courses the royal family were eating. "Buttercream, may I speak to you?"
"She's not here!" said a voice from around the corner. Twilight trotted over and spotted the pony in question, a young apprentice balancing a tray of muffins atop her head. She was bright pink, with her frizzy mane straining against its hairnet. "Her foal has the croup, so she's taking a sick day."
"Oh, dear," said Twilight. "It's not serious, I hope?"
The apprentice shook her head. "No, thank the heavens. But that means I'm doing the baking for the next couple days."
"Well, Miss..."
"Pie. Pinkamena Pie!"
"Well, Miss Pie--"
"Pinkie, for short!"
Twilight stopped and sighed. "Well, Pinkie, I was hoping to have Rarity's favorite cupcakes made for her tonight, but if Buttercream isn't here, I'll just--"
Pinkie scoffed. "Pfft! I can do it, no sweat! My name may be Pie, but I can whip up anything sweet if it's what you need! What's the special occasion?"
"Oh, nothing special. She's just a bit on the gloomier side, and I thought they'd cheer her up."
Pinkie gasped. "Well, we can't have the princess frowny-wowny, now can we?! I'll make those cakes so good, they'll blow her mind!"
"Thank you... I think." Twilight nodded her head and began to leave. Suddenly, however, she heard Pinkie yell from behind her, "Duck!"
Twilight hit the deck (along with the other cooks, she noticed). The tray of muffins went flying across the room to land on the counter. Amazingly, each little muffin slipped out of its cup, did a perfect 360, and landed with a quiet "thump" on a serving plate. When Twilight turned around to voice her shock and disapproval, she found Pinkie throwing dozens of ingredients into a bowl, the batter within turning the familiar pink of Rarity's cupcakes. Twilight decided to let it go; no harm, no foul. She looked at the other cooks, who all bore approximately the same expression. With Pinkie, it seemed, you never knew what was coming next.
~~~
That evening, while Rarity relaxed on her lounge and read a book (one of her romance novels about forbidden love), Twilight sat out on the balcony and watched the skies. Twilight cherished these evenings; for her, "quiet and simple" meant "nothing to worry about." She could simply look out and admire the sunset without having to consider what or whom Rarity might be embroiling herself with. And these were often the nights where the two of them could spend time and chat. They were so different, the two of them, with no common ground to talk about, and yet talk they did. Their relationship was deeply personal, but it felt natural, the way a princess and her bodyguard should feel together. At least, that was the excuse Twilight told herself in these tender moments...
From the door to the hall came five knocks in an upbeat rhythm. Twilight didn't recognize the pattern, but Rarity's ears perked up. "Is somepony at the door?" she asked.
Twilight quickly came in and approached. "I believe I know who it is," she said, but she was still cautious. You never knew for sure, after all. She opened the door slowly, looking to see who it might--
"Happy Smiling Day, princess!" Pinkie squealed. Behind her, a series of confetti bombs and streamers exploded, showering Rarity's bedroom with color and sound. Against Twilight's protestations, she wheeled in a cart absolutely covered in cupcakes. They stood stacked on top of each other, with little segments holding them up in a tower that teetered and waved disconcertingly. The cake portion was rose pink, but the frosting was white, blue, and purple in various swirls and shapes. Pinkie brought the cart in, then pulled cakes off the top of the tower until it no longer threatened to spill over everyone. She bowed, rakishly plucked one of the cupcakes and popped it into her mouth, then walked backwards out of the room, saying, "Goo' nifft, prinfeff!" through cake and frosting.
Rarity sat there, blinking for a moment. "Who was that?" she asked. Then, "Well, never mind. These certainly do look delicious!" She set her book down on her sofa, walked over to where Twilight stood, still shell-shocked and surrounded by cupcakes, and chose one to eat. "Hmm... they're really something. Quite a bit sweeter than usual, though... I like it!" She beamed and gave another one to Twilight. "You must try one!"
"Thank you, Princess." She ate it slowly. Pinkie had clearly not followed the recipe exactly as Buttercream made it, but as with all things, it seemed Pinkie had her ways, and to her credit, they were quite tasty. Sweet, as Rarity had noted, but with an acceptable balance in the other flavors to make it decadent as opposed to cloying. Twilight savored it while Rarity walked about the room raving about hers.
It seemed she was taking too long to eat it, though, as Rarity came by, a look of consternation on her face. Then, suddenly, she ran her magic along the tip of a cupcake and plopped the frosting onto Twilight's nose. "Boop!"
"Wh--!" Twilight turned to look at Rarity, who blew a raspberry and trotted away. Twilight scooped up a portion of the frosting on her cupcake and went for Rarity's snout, but Rarity effortlessly tipped her head, leading Twilight's attack to splatter fruitlessly on the tile floor. Twilight pulled the cart closer to her side; Rarity, not to be outdone, stacked the extra cupcakes into a miniature wall to protect herself from Twilight's line of sight. But this had the added benefit of blocking Twilight from Rarity's line of sight--an opportunity Twilight couldn't dare pass up. While her magic diverted Rarity's attention by shuffling the cupcakes around, Twilight snuck towards Rarity's wall. Then, at the perfect moment, she popped up above the wall, shouting, "A-ha!"
At the same moment, Rarity appeared above the wall, a cupcake in one hoof. Both attacks were suddenly halted as they clonked heads. Rarity fell forward, while Twilight fell backwards, and the two of them landed in a pile, the cupcakes scattered around them.
Once Twilight had recovered from being momentarily stunned, she looked up and blushed at their position. Rarity's face was close, so close that her mane gently brushed Twilight's cheek. Rarity had landed on one knee, which put their bodies tantalizingly close to each other. Twilight, meanwhile, had reflexively raised one hoof to catch Rarity as she fell, which now rested on her barrel and felt like a scandalously amorous sort of method to hold somepony who wasn't in imminent danger. Considering the scent of vanilla from the cupcakes mixed with Rarity's perfume and the way her heart was pounding, the only "danger" Rarity was in was of Twilight forgetting herself and kissing her right there.
Rarity smiled; it seemed she was having the same thought, as her face was coming down for her chance at a kiss, which Twilight couldn't will herself to prevent. But moments before they met, Rarity stopped. Twilight wondered what could be the matter, until Rarity frowned and spoke, answering the unasked question. "What exactly is Smiling Day?"
"Hmm?" With the moment undone, Twilight hurried to right herself and began to pick up the cupcakes that had fallen frosting-side down.
"When the delivery mare brought in the cupcakes," said Rarity, standing up fully and wiping off any errant frosting, "she said, 'Happy Smiling Day.' If it's a holiday, it's one I've never heard of."
"Oh, that." Twilight considered it for a moment. "I told Pinkie how you have been feeling recently, and she decided to make it an event, it seems."
"How I've been... ah, the dress." Rarity rubbed her eyes with her hooves. "You're right, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't let it get to me."
"It's okay. I understand how important it is to you that you get it right. I just thought--"
"I know, I know. And I appreciate getting to take my mind off it. But..." She looked to the back corner of her room, where the dress was tucked away on its mannequin behind her dresser. "Out of nowhere, I remember how wrong it is, how incomplete. And if I can't get this right... I feel like everything else is in a slump. I see all the failures in everything else I do, and I just..." Rarity shrugged and rang the bell to summon her bedmaid. "Twilight, could you find somewhere to put the cupcakes? I suddenly don't have the appetite anymore for them."
Twilight dutifully picked them up and summoned up a bell jar to store them in. There was just enough space in it for all of them but one, so she ate the last one, just to be rid of it. It tasted like ash.
~~~
Twilight and Rarity spent an awkward few days afterwards--whether awkward due to Twilight's failed attempt at making Rarity feel better or the romantic situation that they had left unspoken, neither could say. But they found ways to be busy to ignore the problem and each other, at least until Lady Fluttershy came to visit. While her parents discussed noblepony matters with Rarity's parents, the two of them got the chance to catch up and have fun. This time, they had discussed how, purely coincidentally, they'd both managed to read the same romance novel at the same time (L'Objet d'Or, or something to that effect) and had then breathlessly gushed over every major twist and surprise. Apparently one of the major love interests had fallen off a cliff, but he was actually alive, but had developed amnesia? Twilight was totally lost.
But then, like clockwork, Rarity pulled out the dress. (Rarity had given it a name at this point, like a magic sword or a natural disaster, but since that name was mostly swear words, Twilight mentally called it "The Red Piece.") Fluttershy herself had been dabbling in sewing and clothesmaking for a couple of years (hence Rarity's first inspiration to try herself), but most of her advice seemed to be things Rarity had already accounted for. They argued about color theory and Vitruvian proportionality for a while, then Rarity huffed and tied her hair back, while Fluttershy sighed and walked over to Twilight.
"That didn't go well," Twilight remarked.
"Has she been like this for a while?" Fluttershy asked.
"A couple of weeks, yes."
"Oh, dear." Fluttershy sat down. "I've seen Rarity go through phases, but never like this."
"Do you have any suggestions regarding how to lift her spirits, make her feel more comfortable with her progress? I tried her favorite food, but it only worked until she thought about the dress again, and then she was just as upset as before."
"Ah, no, I wouldn't expect that'd work," Fluttershy said. "Rarity is pretty willful about these things; you can't just distract her. Now, how did we help her with the author incident three years ago?"
"The author incident?" Twilight asked.
"Oh, back when she wanted to write her own novels when the one she was reading at the time ended poorly. Rarity's calligraphy may be immaculate, but her plotting and characterization... not so much. She was desperate to get her own series of monster romance novels finished."
"M-monster romance novels?" That sounded so utterly unlike Rarity that Twilight briefly considered Fluttershy might be joking with her. But Fluttershy didn't have a malicious bone in her body, so Twilight could only conclude Fluttershy was being serious.
"Yes. Though, it was the strangest thing. All of the 'suitors' were female. And her favorite creatures were nagas--half-pony, half-snake," Fluttershy wondered aloud.
Now Twilight really was torn. Rarity's preferences towards mares was appealing (though it was up for debate whether it had any bearing in light of the political marriage likely in Rarity's future), but Rarity liking snakes when Twilight was dead terrified of them... In any case, it was a relief that nagas were not real, so that Twilight wouldn't have to fight them.
"So what drew her away from writing naga love stories?" Twilight asked.
"It sort of faded over time. Her writing got more and more flowery, until eventually she was just writing poetry. And Rarity's poetry is actually quite good, so she eventually scrapped the novels and focused on her poetry."
"...Fluttershy, that's it!"
"What's it?" she asked.
"Can you... ask her to write a poem for me? I don't know enough about the terminology." It was a shameful admission for somepony who had been living with Rarity for so long, but it all went in one ear and out the other for Twilight.
"Rarity?" Fluttershy asked. Rarity turned around. "Twilight was wondering if you could write a sonnet for her. Tripartite, please."
"Iambic pentameter?"
"Naturally."
"What about?"
"The dichotomy between darkness and light."
"Ah, very Maudlin Verse-ian of you." Rarity smiled and thought about it for a moment, then began. "When light from yonder distant spinning sun / brings taloned claws to rake through shadow's home--"
"Wait, are you reciting something?" Twilight asked.
"No, dear. I'm coming up with it just now," Rarity replied.
"And you come up with it on the meter, with the right amount of syllables, and with all of the symbolism?"
"Of course! It's not that hard, darling," said Rarity. "When one has written as many sonnets as I have, the verse tends to spring quite naturally to the mind."
"That's incredible!" Twilight said in awe. "Could you transfer all of that poetry skill to your dressmaking?"
"Transfer it... well, I suppose I could. They are both about creating meaning out of specific rules." Rarity thought about it for a moment, then began to trace out ideas in the air. "If meter is like the length of cloth, and the foot is like the color... no, maybe..."
As her thoughts began to fade into feverish mumbling, Fluttershy turned to look at Twilight, mouthing, "This was your plan?"
"It's gonna work, I just know it!" Twilight mouthed back. They turned back to Rarity, who was now re-measuring the dress and marking adjustments with a pencil. She seemed to be in deep focus, until she suddenly exploded, throwing up her hooves and shouting, "Iambic stitching doesn't even make any sense! Ugh!"
Fluttershy's look... well, it couldn't kill, but it could probably have wilted flowers or soured milk. Twilight got the hint. "I guess it didn't work."
"...No."
"I just... I don't get it," Twilight said. "If anypony else told me they'd made a dress as good as that after only six months of practice, I'd call them a liar. I practically did call her a liar when she started coming up with that poem! Rarity is so talented, it defies logic. And yet, all she sees is that she's not good enough."
"That's often how it is with creative ponies like Rarity," Fluttershy said. "They feel like an imposter in their own skin."
"It's not right," Twilight asserted. "I wish she could just see..." She trailed off, a thought slowly occurring to her.
"See what?" Fluttershy asked.
"See exactly the thing that will prove how good she's become at this point," said Twilight. "I know exactly what to do. But to do it... I'm going to need a day off!"
Fluttershy gasped. "But you hate taking the day off!"
"I know. But for Rarity's sake... it'll be worth it." Twilight grimaced and recomposed herself. "If I'm going to pull this off, I'm going to need some help."
~~~
Short Measure was not an easy pony to get in touch with. She made dresses and uniforms for nearly every kingdom in the known world, which filled her schedule from now until either the end of time or Short Measure's death, whichever came first. Depending on when you'd asked, she'd say she was either too busy to die, or that her work was sending her to an early grave. Either way, she would then shoo you off to get back to her stitching. In the end, Twilight had needed to lie about Rarity's dress needing alterations to manage an audience with her.
"What sort of alterations were you..." She paused, then pushed her spectacles up to look at Twilight. "Where exactly is the dress?"
"The dress is fine," Twilight replied. When Short Measure sighed and rolled her eyes, Twilight added, "Wait! I need your help with something. It's going to be a special gift for the princess."
"I see. What do I have that could be of service?"
"I need every scrap of fabric you've thrown away. Big, small, whatever. What do you do with it all?"
Short Measure gestured to a bin behind her filled to the top with bits and snippets of cloth, ribbon, and fluff. Twilight immediately dove in and began rummaging through it. Short Measure noted, "You're lucky you came when you did. I was about to send it off to be recycled."
Twilight breached the surface, holding two near-identically-shaped patches, one purple and one white. "You're right. I've got so much to work with! This is exactly what I need."
"What could the princess possibly want made out of worthless strips of cast-off fabric?"
Twilight held the two squares in her magic, adding some blue-green strips and a hoof's-length of yellow ribbon to her collection. "Something to brighten her spirits and remind her of how wonderful she really is."
"...Right." Short Measure turned back to her work. "If that was all you needed, find what you want and leave me in peace, please."
Twilight paused, a little sheepish. "Actually, that's not quite it. Could I ask for just one more thing...?"
~~~
It was late in the evening by the time Twilight managed to get back to the palace. She had Rarity's present slung over one shoulder, and she rushed to make sure she could give it to her before she went to bed. To their credit, the guards recognized her without her armor on and obligingly stayed out of her way. The last thing she needed was for somepony to stop her and ask what she was doing running about like her mane was on fire. At this point, she wasn't sure she could have explained it herself.
Upon reaching Rarity's door, she was dismayed to see her replacements to be Broadsword and Rock Ridge, two lunkheads she wouldn't have trusted to guard a basket of hammers, with about the intellect of the same. Alas, this tended to happen when she took a day off. She counted herself lucky that the palace hadn't caught fire or been attacked by ninjas, in case these two would have been Rarity's only defense.
"Who goes there?" said Rock Ridge. He shouldered his spear and pointed it at Twilight.
She sighed. "Twilight Sparkle. Obviously. Please let me through. I brought this gift for Princess Rarity, and I thought--"
"Leave it with us," said Broadsword, beckoning to her. "We'll see it given to her."
"Well, it's just that it requires some explanation, and I'm also her personal bodyguard, so if you could just--"
"Look, Rarity's going to bed, so why don't you just do what we tell you and run along, little filly," Rock Ridge said with a gross, creepy smile.
"Wow, sexism! Original!" Twilight rolled her eyes. "Now let me through, or I'll show you just how powerful my magic really--"
"Twilight?" The door opened behind the two guards, and Rarity peeked her head out. "Twilight! What are you doing here so late? I thought you had the day off!"
"Well, I did, but..." Twilight bumped her present on her back. "I wanted to give you something special. If it's not too much trouble..." She gave a knowing look towards Broadsword and Rock Ridge, then coughed conspicuously.
"Ah, yes. At ease, you two," said Rarity. Reluctantly, the two stood down and watched banefully as Twilight walked past them.
Rarity was already dressed up in her nightgown, and she'd already removed her makeup. Despite this, she still looked radiant (though Twilight was confident Rarity would have said she looked hideous). She settled down on her four-poster bed, while Twilight awkwardly laid her gift over a chair. Rarity asked, "So what is this all about?"
Twilight cleared her throat. "Rarity, all I've ever wanted is for you to be proud of yourself. I want you to see yourself the same way I see you: smart, beautiful, and talented." Twilight, suddenly blushing, abruptly caught herself and changed the direction her thoughts were going. "What I mean is, I want you to feel comfortable about your dressmaking ability. You've made so much progress, and I'd hate to see you lose something so valuable to you because you can't see what you have for what you don't have."
Rarity looked like she was about to interrupt, so Twilight pressed on. "And so I thought, you are so hard on yourself. You look at a nearly-perfect dress and see all the flaws. But if you could just see a really bad dress, you'd see how great you really are! So I made just such a dress." Twilight unzipped the bag and rustled the dress out. "Look, Rarity! This is a terrible dress!"
Twilight had spared absolutely no part of the dress from her mad vision. The neckline was huge, composed of the white and purple squares stitched together. The rest of the dress was composed of every color of the rainbow, from earthy reds and browns to oceany blues and greens, from subtle grays and whites to eyesore yellows and pinks, all in different shapes and fabrics. Where one piece was too long, it was stitched over the piece beneath it; where another piece was too short, it was stitched into a puckered gap. Ribbon and felt fit wherever was least appropriate, and the train dragged a parabolic arc across the back. All in all, it was atrocious.
"It's beautiful!" Rarity gasped and took the dress in her magic. She held it tightly in a loving hug; in fact, Twilight noticed a few tears dripping lightly down Rarity's face.
"Wha-- no, it's not! It's horrible! It's deliberately horrible! Don't tell me I somehow went all the way around to avant-garde!" Twilight cried.
"Oh, no, I assure you, objectively it's quite ghastly," said Rarity. But still, she smiled. "And yet, knowing how hard you worked to make it, all you were trying to convey with it... I can't help but see the beauty in it anyway." Rarity tipped her head quizzically. "How exactly did you get this done in one day?"
"I had a little help from Short Measure," she replied sheepishly. "Actually, she did most of the work. I just came up with the idea--and got her to keep going when she called it 'an abomination against the art of dressmaking and the very concept of clothes.'"
Rarity laughed at that. "I suppose it is that, isn't it?"
"Kind of the point, really." Twilight smirked. "So... seeing that dress, can you see the beauty in your own work?"
"I can," said Rarity. "If anything, it shows me that the message can still get through, even in flawed creations." She looked up, her smile wide. "Thank you, Twilight. From the bottom of my heart. I can always trust you to stick by me, no matter how... obsessive... I can get. And I hope you'll keep sticking by me for years to come."
"Of course I will," said Twilight. "So does that mean you're willing to wear your dress to the Winter's Ball?"
Rarity shook her head. "I don't think so. Even accepting it as it is, I've made so many changes to it at this point that it isn't really in the right style for me."
"All right, that's fine," said Twilight. "Can you make another one in time, then, or would you like me to ask the servants tomorrow to get the one your father ordered?"
Rarity gave a very discomfiting smile. "I have a better idea..."
~~~
"You ask her."
"No, you ask her!"
"Fine."
Twilight watched cautiously as one of the nobleponies nearby walked over to Rarity. She stood far enough way to avoid drawing attention, but close enough that she could spring into defense if necessary. Though the potential attack a lady like Dahlia could muster was less physical and more psychological, and Twilight had very little in the way of protection against that.
"Rarity," Dahlia began, "the dress you're wearing...?"
"Why, yes, Dahlia? Do you like it?" Rarity said, all smile.
"No... No, I don't. In fact, permit me to say that it's the ugliest dress I have ever seen in my entire life. Who made such a monstrosity, and what possessed you to wear it out in public?"
Rarity blushed, and her smile grew only bigger. "It was made by one of my closest friends and confidantes, just for me. And it was a symbol of her love and appreciation for me. How could I not wear it?"
"But... but it's a raggedy piece of patchwork!" Dahlia sputtered.
"I know. Isn't it? I just love how the different colors mix together. It's marvelous."
"I... but..." Dahlia seemed to be close to having a stroke, so Twilight quickly stepped in.
"What the princess means is," Twilight said, "she lost a friendly wager with her sister, and the punishment was to wear that dress. She can't tell you the truth because that was part of the terms of the bet."
"Aaaah, I see." Dahlia eyed Twilight all over. "A good thing you weren't part of the bet. Your dress looks quite nice. A little plebeian, but acceptable for a pony of your stature."
"Why, thank you, miss," Twilight said, giving a curtsy. "In fact, this dress was created by an up-and-coming fashion designer. It's called 'The Red Piece.'"
"Quite an accurate name." Dahlia nodded. "I like it. I hope we'll see this 'up-and-coming fashion designer' make more pieces in the future. Let me know if she makes something for a noblemare like me."
"I'll be sure to, miss Dahlia." Twilight curtsied again, and Dahlia went back to gossip with her sister.
Rarity turned to look at Twilight, her eyes shimmering with tears. "Why did you lie?"
"About what? The reason you're wearing my dress, or the name of this one? Because I couldn't very well give her your real name for it. Lady Dahlia was already two seconds away from having a conniption, and that level of vulgarity would have blown her poor little mind."
That got Rarity laughing. "Oh, you're right. But I meant the former. I want ponies to know how kind and supportive you've been. I don't care how it looks, so long as ponies know how much you care about me."
"I appreciate that, princess. I really do. Though perhaps next time, you can wear the dress your father specifically ordered from Short Measure."
"What would be the fun of that?" Rarity stuck out her tongue, a gesture so unladylike that Twilight couldn't help but laugh in response. "Besides, then how would I demonstrate my gratitude for everything you've done for me?"
"Ideally, something more subtle," Twilight answered.
"Hmm... subtle, you say?" Rarity looked furtively over her shoulder, then back at Twilight. "Is Dahlia looking over here?"
Twilight craned her neck forward to look. "Doesn't look like it. Dare I ask--"
Their first kiss was like fireworks.
No, not really. Considering it was short, quiet, and sneaky, it was more of the opposite of fireworks. But it was like the intensity of fireworks, so once they make an explosive as powerful as fireworks but as quiet as a dormouse, that'll be what their first kiss could be compared to. But for now, fireworks will have to do.
Rarity stepped back and winked at Twilight. "Would that be sufficiently subtle for you, Twilight?"
"Buh..." Twilight couldn't seem to catch up to the present moment.
Rarity laughed again. "I'll take that as a yes." Before she left, she added, "That one was for the one we missed on Smiling Day." Then, with one last wink, she mingled with the crowd, leaving a dazed Twilight happy, terrified, and spinning with thoughts. The foremost of which, stupidly enough, was, "So here I am, having to match the standards of snake ponies." But then after that, the slightly more rational thought of: "...You know, she really does make that dress work."
THE END
