Dress Seller, I Am Getting Married, and I Need Your Finest Dresses
Twilight steeled herself before the door of Carousel Boutique. For this to work, she needed to seem completely casual. Or at least as much as she could around Rarity; remaining calm in front of such a beautiful mare was no easy thing. Dating her had quickly taught Twilight the value of a good fainting couch. And as time went on, and they grew closer and closer, Twilight had never stopped swooning. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.
But! She had business to attend to. She couldn’t stand around all day with a goofy smile on her face thinking about Rarity (such was best done in the presence of the mare anyway). To be fair, she was an astonishing mare, stunning in every sense of the word. And also one with whom the greatest care needed to be taken—she didn’t deserve any less. If anypony could manage that care, it was her, Twilight reminded herself once again.
It was hard. There are many different states in life, of varying levels of stressfulness. About-to-meet-Rarity ranked high in that regard. Being-with-Rarity was much lower, and was sublime. Getting there was the trick.
The solution, as it always was, was to let her hoof go forward, pushing the door open before she could think about it.
“Welcome to Carousel Boutique. I shall be with you in just a moment,” Rarity’s heavenly voice called out from the back of the shop in answer to the bell.
“It’s just me,” Twilight said, keeping her voice as steady as possible. She could imagine perfectly the smile that broke out on her face as she heard those words. Rarity was a forceful pony, for all her elegance. Twilight did not merely go on dates with her and then head back to her castle to do her own work. No, her marefriend had long ago taken up permanent residence in her mind, and she saw her every time she closed her eyes. It was a comfortable arrangement, the waking world was not enough to contain Rarity, and Twilight was happy to dedicate her dreams to the task as well.
She trotted in and took a seat, waiting for Rarity to come out. She did this to herself every time. The one thing she could never seem to learn (or let herself learn) was that no matter how vivid she fancied her imagination and memory, it always, always paled before Rarity in life, in motion. The light gracefulness of her step, the bounce and sway of her mane and tail, everything really.
Rarity greeted her with her customary bright smile and hug (and, since nopony else was around, a kiss). Twilight accepted all those gifts gratefully. “Hello, darling. What brings you here?” She flourished her mane dramatically. “Has the Princess come to inspect my labor? I assure you, your Grace, that there is not one stitch in this shop that is not worthy of being worn by the Royal Personage.” She finished with a deep bow.
“Oh stop that. You’re the last pony I want bowing to me, you know that.” Twilight mumbled. Someday she wouldn’t get so flustered by that, someday.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I didn’t just come to watch you work today.”
Rarity’s eyebrow rose in perfect sync with her voice. “Oh? Just to ogle me, then?”
Twilight giggled. “Tempting, but not quite. I need a dress.”
Rarity furrowed her brow. She was so adorable when she was thinking, an impressive fact given how high her baseline adorableness was. “You’re commissioning another dress? What for? I’ve already prepared your wardrobe for all your engagements for the next three months. Stand still.”
Rarity’s horn lit up and a flurry of activity took over the shop. A rainbow of fabric swatches arrayed themselves around the two mares, several enchanted tapes set about taking Twilight’s measurements that she knew for a fact Rarity had memorized, and Rarity’s sketchpad joined them. “Now, what kind of event is this? Date? Time? Location?” If Rarity did not take a fact into account when designing a dress, then it was not a fact.
Twilight smiled (she forced herself not to smile too much), now was the critical moment. “I need a wedding dress. I’m not sure when the ceremony will be, I’m afraid.”
“Ah, well.” The colored fabrics flew away, replaced by various textures of white, as Rarity did exactly what Twilight hoped she would. “I have a few ideas for you, but I’ve never managed to get them into a whole.” Rarity spoke haltingly, rapidly switching between drawing, and holding up fabrics against Twilight at different angles and lengths. “But still, I’m so excited to finally be able to make you a we—wahaHa wuh?” She looked suddenly at Twilight, her eyes wide.
Twilight smiled silently with her own Princess Celestia Smile. She was not much of a prankster, but it was amusing to watch the confusion flicker across Rarity’s face (she was beautiful when confused: yet another entry on the long list of emotions Rarity looked beautiful while experiencing).
Her voice was uncharacteristically shaky as the bit finally dropped. “Tw-Twilight?”
“Will you?” Twilight said. It seemed somehow better not to state the real question out loud.
Trembling, eyes full of tears, Rarity answered her. By fainting.
Twilight caught her, and carried her to her favorite couch. She changed the sign on the door to closed, and joined her reclining, covering her with a wing.
When Rarity came to a minute later, she elaborated on her answer by kissing Twilight deeply and repeatedly, and whispering “yes”es and “I love you”s (in a ratio of four to one), all wrapped up in a tight hug.
Twilight had worried for weeks what kind of answer she would get. She hadn’t thought of any better than this. She held Rarity, her little seamstress, in her wings and hooves. Twilight could not imagine any greater happiness than that she felt in Rarity’s embrace, with the scent of perfume filling her nose, and her reflection shimmering in deep sapphire eyes, and an angelic voice whispering love in her ear. And above all, what made her happy, was to see the joy and love that Rarity felt when she gave those things herself.
