together we sang, i'm ready now
In Everything But Name
by Monochromatic
I.
My dear Twilight Sparkle,
I’d hoped to speak with you on the train to your Coronation.
Or perhaps not. I’m not entirely sure what I would have said, too busy finishing your dress, too busy delicately pushing it all away. In truth, if the girls hadn’t come along, if things had gone as planned, I don’t believe I would have said a thing. I would have kept it a secret.
And we know a thing or two about secrets, don't we, darling?
This unspoken desire that started so long ago, on that one fateful night we had too much wine and too much time.
You have your fashion career, you’d whispered to me, tangled in the sheets.
And you have your political career, I’d whispered back, tangled in your wings.
And because we had time, or thought that we did, and you were anxious and I loved you too much, we decided to just… let it be.
“Are we friends with benefits?” you asked me once, your head peeking out under my bedsheets, your eyes glued to the dress I was fixing. “Is that what this is?”
“That depends entirely on whether the reason you were kissing me four hours ago was because you wanted to kiss somepony or because you wanted to kiss me.”
You blushed, and I loved you. “I want to kiss you.”
“Darling, who doesn’t?” I asked, and giggled when you threw a pillow my way. “Ca-a-areful, Twilight! I’ll tear my dress!”
You settled back under the covers, and continued to voice your mind.
“What are we then?” you asked, and already I could see the anxiety building up inside you. “We’re not dating, but we’re not friends with benefits either, then. We’re sort of in the middle? But what does that even mean? Does that exist? What’s that relationshi—”
“Twilight, do you love me?”
I didn’t mean to be blunt; I just wanted to finish my dress.
“Yes,” you said, and your anxiety reared its head. “So shouldn’t we be dating? Aren’t you angry we’re not dating? Or telling anypony we’re… not dating? If we were dating, we could tell them. But I can’t commit to that right now! I have the school, and the castle, and I’d have to schedule time for a committed relationship, and you have your boutiques, and the school too, and probably fifty other things I’m forgetting. But we’re in love. So shouldn’t people in love be dating? How is—”
I put my dress down. “Twilight.”
“You keep interrupting me,” you said with a pout.
“I know, and I’m sorry, but you’re spiraling, my love.”
You hid under the covers. “Sorry.”
“What if we weren’t in love?” I suggested, and smiled when the covers immediately came off.
“What?”
“I think you’re focusing too much on labels. So this is my proposition. What if this—” I gestured between us, “—isn’t love, not in the traditional sense. It just is. Why can’t we just be?”
You frowned. “Be? Be what?”
“Us,” I replied.
When I beckoned you over for a kiss, you indulged me. “Us,” I whispered against your lips, “whatever shape or form that takes. Not in love, not committed, not loose, not anything. Just us. Something entirely chic, unique and magnifique.”
“Us,” you repeated, and you never wondered again.
Truthfully, I think that my career had helped stave off my… shall we say, desires for traditional romances. I was too busy travelling around Equestria to want something stable, and as I said, I loved you far too much to be upset by your desires for the same kind of relationship I wanted. I thought we had time, regardless, which is why I was fine with waiting until we were ready. I thought we had all the time in the world for Us. One day, we’d be established, and confident, and successful in our endeavors, and then we’d finally use one of those more commonly known labels.
But then Princess Celestia resigned.
Then she told you she was appointing you the new sovereign ruler of the realm.
Then suddenly, there we were, helping you settle into Celestia’s old chambers in Canterlot Castle.
It’s what you wanted, I told myself. You’d been right to not want a label. It made things simpler in the end. No need for a breakup when you weren’t dating in the first place.
I told myself I was fine with this all. I was, I’d thought, I’d hoped.
II.
It started with a book.
A book on spells and magic and all sorts of things you’d bring to my boutique every other night for months. Months and months, before Celestia and Luna announced their resignation, insisting that I would become a master spellcaster if I practiced those damned spells just one more night.
“Twiiiilight,” I’d theatrically whine on my couch, as I did because it made my life fun, and though you rolled your eyes, it still made you smile. “You can’t keep saying it’s simple every single time! If it was simple, I’d know how to do it already!”
“It’s simple with practice,” you scolded, scooted up against me on the couch, because we were friends and that was fine, and you weren’t in love and neither was I. “If you’d practice, you’d be better at it. Which you will be because I’m helping you.”
“Dearest, at the rate this is going, you’ll have to live here for the rest of your life. And even after that.” I stopped. “I take that back. Not after that. Please.”
You giggled. “Rarity. I’m not going to teach you spells in the afterlife, even if there is an afterlife, which is debatable.”
“But you would if you could, Sparkle!”
“...Maybe. Anyway!” You smiled widely, and it was wonderful, and when you leaned in to kiss me, it was perfect. “I believe in you, Rarity. I know you can do it. But… If I have to stay here forever for you to learn, I will.”
I thought I was fine when I came back from your coronation, even though I knew you were no longer a fifteen-minute walk away. I honestly thought I believed all the things I’d told you before you left. Things must evolve, or they become stale! Change was good! Why, it was you who’d changed my life by coming into it, it made sense you’d change it again by leaving.
Things would be fine, I thought, until I opened my suitcase and found the spellbook neatly tucked between my clothes.
I don’t remember having this, I thought, delicately taking it in my hooves, this precious memory I had of you. Had you put it there? I did leave you alone with my luggage at the train station, though... Do you remember? When I went to the little fillies’ room to re-apply the makeup I’d cried off with what I foolishly believed were the last of my tears.
It wasn’t your name on the first page that did me in, written in the messy yet somehow elegant calligraphy I’d come to love.
It was the note you’d left inside the book.
So, that was a lie,it said, and tears stung at my eyes. I guess now you have a whole month to not practice and try to convince me you did, instead of just a week. We’ll get there. Eventually. (I’ll start looking into teaching you spells in the afterlife, just in case!).
Love, Twilight
I decided that very moment that I hated change. I hated it, and it had destroyed me, and now you were gone, and there was nothing to be done. We were friends. We’d decided on being friends, on being Us which now was just Friends, on living our lives with our feelings acknowledged but ultimately never fully fulfilled because our careers and our livelihoods simply did not allow for more at the time.
It was childish of me, I’ll admit, to put the book inside an empty suitcase and then bury the entire thing in the back of my closet. Keep it in a place where I couldn’t see it, where I could pretend it wasn’t there, and I didn’t have this keepsake that meant things were over, had changed, were gone.
It stayed there for an hour or more, until my will failed me and I dragged myself to my workshop in the middle of the night to take the book out and read your note again, and again, and again.
Love, Twilight.
III.
It wasn’t until I saw you again that it all came crumbling down.
Did you notice? I don’t think you did, too busy talking about what you’d done, what you’d seen, how well you were adjusting to your new life in the city. The rest of us mostly listened, which made sense all things considered.
Life had not changed much for us all. Yes, you were gone—and, granted, this was more tragic to me than to the others—but our lives stayed the same. Where a month ago we all wept because we were afraid things would change, now I was crushed by the opposite.
To the unsuspecting eye, my routine stayed the same. Life went on, Twilight! Can you believe it? How shocking it was that the world felt like it had crumbled and yet I was expected to carry on as if it hadn’t.
I’m sorry, my dear. I barely paid attention to what you said that night of our first Friendship Council, despite the fact that I could not tear my eyes away from you. You looked so happy, and I’d not have it any other way, but I am selfish still.
We hadn’t talked about Us yet, and I suppose that shouldn’t have come as a surprise, should it? The entire reason we were Us and not Dating was precisely so it wouldn’t be a thing to deal with, to discuss or figure out.
I indulged myself in a fantasy as I pretended to listen. To declare my love to you, then and there, in front of all of our friends, the lovestruck protagonist of this torrid love affair who obviously had to pick the absolute worst timing to confess, and faced with this confession, you’d… you’d…
I forced myself to listen to you, shamed by my own imaginings. What did I even expect, anyway? For you to abandon your duties for me? You hadn’t done it when you were just Princess of Ponyville, why would you do it when you were Monarch of Equestria? And besides, I’d never be able to live with myself, even if you did offer to leave it all for me, which you wouldn’t. But if not that, then what? What now?
What was Us?
“Why, Twilight, darling, dearest, I know you have an entire realm to look over now, but I thought it was important you know I changed my mind on whatever it is we have, and I want you to officially be mine and vice-versa because I love you.”
“Why, thank you, Rarity! Unfortunately, I’m sensible and not leaving my duties for you, especially since we’d agreed that we weren’t anything committed, and also, don’t you have a rapidly-expanding national chain of fashion boutiques to manage?”
“That I do! See you next month, dear!”
“Bye!”
I hoped that maybe you were over me.
There’s a phrase I never thought I’d be saying! But I did. I hoped you were done with Us so that it would force me to be done as well. An easy way out, an end to this all, with a dose of healthy indignation to boot. You were over me? Me? How dare you, I’d think! Maybe I’m over you, too!
And then maybe I would be.
“You’re staying in Canterlot tonight, right?” you asked me when the rest had left, when it was just you and I and the things I left unsaid. You did not seem too torn up about the others having left. Did you not miss them, or was my presence keeping the waterworks at bay?
How would you react to what I had to say next?
“I am,” I said, delicately, carefully, mentally weaving my escape. “I’m staying with Fancy and Fleur.”
Judging by your widening eyes and lowering ears, it seems I’d correctly surmised that you’d been expecting me to stay at the castle.
“With Fancy and Fleur?” you asked, bewildered. But ah! You couldn’t say anything, either. I was just a friend, was I not?
You persevered, regardless.
“Well. Is there any reason you’re staying with them and not…?” You tried to be polite as you gestured to your castle, which you now owned, which had over fifty empty bedrooms, which we both knew.
I scrambled for a lie, but it did not come.
"You can stay here, you know that, right?” you said, trying to sound amused as you raised an eyebrow. I opened my mouth to come up with another excuse, but you thwarted that by letting your walls fall and hesitation move in. “...Unless you don’t want to?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to, but… I did tell them already.”
I was lying. I was a liar. A fabulously dashing liar, certainly, but a liar nevertheless.
I hope you understand it’s not that I didn’t want to be with you. I wanted to, desperately so! But I feared that if I stayed, it would all come spilling out.
“Right,” you said, and how awful I felt when you looked disappointed, looked like you cared. How miserable I was to be loved! And even more so when you swallowed hard and made yourself vulnerable to me. “I… Can you cancel? I’m still not used to being back to living here alone with just Spike, and it would mean a lot to me if you stayed.” A blush decorated your cheeks. “I miss you.”
“Absolutely,” I said, because of course I did. “I’ll cancel right away.”
I didn’t even hesitate. Really! Where was my resolve? Gallivanting with the wind, apparently! What next, Twilight? You’d ask me to throw myself out a window and I’d ask if you wanted me to do a pirouette while I was at it?
I’d have done an exemplary pirouette, honestly. Not that it matters, but it’s important you know.
Where were we?
Ah, yes.
“Absolutely,” I said, and I’m still mortified by just imagining the look on Fancy and Fleur’s face when two royal guards came to inform them that I wasn’t staying the night as planned. It’s been years—years!—and he still tells me they’re terribly hurt that I cancelled the sleepover they didn’t know was happening.
We were in your new private library when it all came undone.
I’d been lying on a couch, pretending to read who-knows-what when you walked in to join me, shed of all the superficial things that made you a monarch. Your regalia was gone, your crown as well, and the alicorn that lied down near me was not Queen Twilight Sparkle, but just…
Twilight.
And I missed you even more.
I looked away.
“So, Rarity,” you said, unaware, cuddled up against me on the couch, because we were friends and that wasn’t fine, and you were in love and so was I. You grinned at me, teasing. “You had one whole month to practice your excuse for why you didn’t practice, so I hope it’s good.”
I wanted to laugh, I did. To turn around and grin, throw back a witty remark, something to make all of this normal.
“Well?” You pressed, amused. “What is it?”
“Darling,” I said, not bothering to hide the tears in my eyes, “what’s the point of practicing if you won’t be there to be impressed?”
Your expression softened. “Rarity…”
I was almost immediately embarrassed.
“Don’t mind me, dearest,” I quickly said next, more vulnerable than I wanted to be. I sat up just as you did and smiled affectionately, lifting a hoof to brush back your bangs. “I’m just being emotional.”
I was emotional, yes, and even more so when I realized you were moving in to hug me, and I had to reach out with a hoof to stop you.
“No! No,” I said. “Don’t. Please.”
Your eyes darted between me and my hoof, hurt. “Don’t?”
“I’ll cry. I will cry, Twilight Sparkle,” I warned, hoarsely. “I will cry all over your lovely coat, and this lovely couch, and it will be positively ugly to see. It will be hideous.”
You giggled! Twilight, I’d just bared my heart, and you were giggling at me. Granted, it was a rather love-struck giggle, but still!
“Twilight, why are you laughing at me?!”
“I’m not!” you promised, even though you were, and when I lay back down on the cushion and you moved over to wrap me in your wings, I did not resist. You were warm, I remember, my back pressed to your chest, and I hated how we fit together like two puzzle pieces, your chin pressed against the top of my head. “I’m sorry,” you said, genuinely, “I wasn’t laughing at you. That was just… very you, I guess.”
“Oh? I see, I see.” I mumbled. “I’m something to laugh at.”
“Rarity,” you said, in that tone of voice when I’m being silly, and we both know that I am. Your wings tightened against me. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Twilight.”
Your name caught in my throat, as did the words that wanted to follow. I was afraid to ask, I wondered if I was even allowed to ask, if I should indeed thrust us into what could only be an uncomfortable conversation, but…
I had to know.
“What’s going to happen to us?”
You didn’t say anything for a moment that felt endless, enough to make me wonder if I’d made a faux pas. I almost said something else, nearly took it back, but then I heard you breathe, your rising and falling chest brushing against my back.
In your silence, I lived a thousand years, and in your answer, I died a thousand deaths.
“Nothing.”
Nothing! No-thing!
Nothing.
Tears stung my eyes. I wished I could make myself small. Stupid. Hadn’t this been what I wanted? Well, there it was. Just like I’d hoped. Hip. Hip. Hurrah.
“Ah,” I said, and flinched at the crack in my own voice.
You heard it too, and your entire demeanor changed, realizing perhaps you’d been misunderstood. “Rarity,” you said, gentle at first, and then repeated my name with a start when I forced myself out of your embrace and stood up on the floor. “Rarity, wait, what I mean—”
“Nothing?! Nothing, Twilight?!” I demanded, stamping my hoof against the floor just as your ears clamped against your skull. “That’s your answer?”
“No! I mean, yes, but—!” You cut yourself short, and I saw it in your eyes, the anxiety waiting to come out. You pushed it down. “Rarity,” you said severely, not intending to be rude, just collected. “I don’t understand. I thought you understood? Didn’t we agree that we’re—”
“Nothing?” I interrupted, pettily, unable to stop myself.
“No, not nothing,” you shot back, and finally irritation laced your voice. “Us.”
“We can’t be Us anymore, Twilight! We can’t!” I gestured to the couch. “Cuddle up and pretend you’re not living miles away? It’s not the same! It worked when you were in Ponyville, because you were there. We were practically together in everything but name! But now it can’t because you’re here!”
“Rarity, it’s just really bad timing for this,” you said, and shame burned me, as did tears. A sentence I’d read before in romance novels, gasping in delight at the sheer drama of it all.
Well, it wasn’t so delightful anymore, was it?
“You’re right,” I said, somehow gathering my pride and trotting away. “I should leave.”
“Rarity! Rarity, wait!” You jumped up from the cushion and rushed in front of me, stopping me in my tracks. I had half a mind to tell you off, but… “I’m sorry, please,” you said, and I knew that you meant it. “That didn’t come out right.”
I snorted, looking away. “I’ll say.”
“What I meant was…” You paused, ears still lowered, looking all over as you tried to find the words you needed. Eventually, you settled on what you knew best. The cold, hard facts.
“I can’t focus on a relationship right now,” you said, apologetically. “I want to, but I can’t give you the attention it would deserve. I have to focus on Equestria, and learning how to rule, and everything else.”
“I know,” I whispered, ashamed. I couldn’t bear to look at you. “I know! You have to focus on Equestria, and I have my career to work on, and neither of us can do a long-distance relationship, and…” I forced myself to look at you. “I’m sorry. I suppose I wasn’t ready for it to be over.”
And you smiled, earnest.
“It doesn’t have to be over. We can still be Us. That still works, whatever shape or form it takes,” you said, echoing my words.
“Dar-ling. Really? Can it? For how long, then? Because I could see an end date to this in Ponyville, but here? How long will we be ‘Us’?”
Your smile faded. “I don’t know.”
I don’t know, you’d said, and looked straight at me as you added, “But I’m willing to wait. I’m not interested in anypony else if it’s not you.”
“I’m not, either,” I quickly said.
You grinned at me, and I loved you. “Then why don’t we just be…”
“Us,” I replied, and giggled when you leaned in to kiss me. And yet.
“But, dearest, it’s… I meant it! It’s not the same now! Everything is different! What if you meet somepony here? Or what if I meet somepony? Or what if, I don’t know, our feelings change and suddenly we’re sitting together, and one doesn’t feel the same, having realized that love truly doesn’t last and all we had were hopes and dreams destined to burn and crash just as brightly as it started and—” I moved forward and collapsed on the floor cushion, whining theatrically. “Twiiilight!”
You smiled at me.
“Are you done?”
“I’m serious!” I whined, sniffling. “What if you don’t want this anymore?! What if one day you decide you’re done with waiting, and send me home with a broken heart, with nothing but a silly book of spells, a crippling reminder of a time where you once loved me?”
“Actually,” you said, “that’s a great idea.”
“Sending me home with a broken heart?!”
“No, silly. Not that part,” you said, giggling at me. “The part about the books.”
“Crippling reminders of a time you once loved me?!”
“No!” you exclaimed, now rolling your eyes, which was much more like you. You sat beside me on the cushion and laid out your plan. “For every month I’m still willing to wait, I’ll offer you a book. For every month you’re still fine with waiting, you’ll take it.”
“And what happens the day you don’t give me a book? Or the day I don’t take it?”
You faltered. “I don’t know. I… I guess we’ll have to be okay with that, too.” You smiled. “But that won’t happen.” At my silence, you leaned in to nuzzle me, and my eyes closed. “Does that sound good?”
“How will we know when it’s over?” I asked you last.
“We’ll know,” you promised, and I believed you.
IV.
Our plan evolved after that.
Rather than giving me books once a month, it became a game to give me books every time we met, which turned out to be far more often than I think either of us expected. The perks of being a globe-trotting designer! No one questioned why you kept inviting me along to your diplomatic visits throughout Equestria and beyond.
I’m trying to think now, of the many books hidden in the suitcase in my closet, and the first that comes to mind is that one book written completely in runes; the one you gave me the week your diplomatic visit to Saddle Arabia ‘coincidentally’ coincided with the grand opening of my new boutique.
I remember sitting on my couch, somehow awake enough to be interested in the intricate pictographies, but too tired to protest you completely re-organizing my new boutique.
“And this is supposed to be about what, exactly?” I asked, taking a sip of my tea and turning a page of the book.
“The Astropsychology of Magical Parthenogenesis!” you exclaimed from inside the backroom.
“Twilight, I don’t mean to be rude, but none of the words you just said have anything to do with each other.”
“Yes, they do! It’s about how the ancient arimaspi race used the stars to influence magical plant reproduction without fertilization. Isn’t that amazing?!” You came out from the backroom, several shelves of fabrics floating behind you. “It’s part of the four-month educational course I’m testing on you.”
“The four-month what now?”
“Educational course!” you continued, busying yourself with organizing my supplies by style, cross-referenced by size, and reverse-indexed by fabric. “Runes were always my favorite part of foreign magic studies, so I’m testing out my course plan on you. I’m giving you Runes and More: Deciphering The Undecipherable during the Summer Gala in two weeks, and then Thesis and You the month after that, and finally a blank two-hundred page notebook the month after that for your guided thesis.”
“My what?”
“Your guided thesis!” You turned to me, levitating a dress. “Did you want this displayed outside or inside? I think it would look nice outside under natural light.”
“Outside is fine, dearest,” I said before noticing the book again. “Wait, darling! I’ve already been the guinea pig for three of your courses! I can’t keep doing this! I have a life, you know?! I have my own catalogues to design!”
Twilight blinked. “But you’ve always been good at multitasking! And your grades are improving, too! I even provided your essay on historical fashion as a good example for my students to follow.”
My ears perked up. “Did you! Well, well! I did try quite hard on that one, despite your forty-page minimum. I even had an idea for what I’m going to write about next semes— Wait.”
You were grinning, and I hated it.
“Yes?”
“No! Don’t you dare grin at me! Look at this, Twilight! You’re brainwashing me! Brainwashing me, I tell you!” I shoved the book away, and crossed my forelegs. “I refuse to participate in this any longer!”
And I was resolute! Resolute, resolute, resolute until you put the dress away and suddenly I found myself the target of your physical affection, enveloping me in those hugs I could barely resist.
“Twiiiiiliiiiight,” I whined, and giggled when you did as well.
“Raaaaarityyyyyyy,” you whined in turn, grinning and burying yourself into me. “Please?”
“I’m staging a revolution, your majesty,” I said, and it was hard to sound serious when you were contentedly kissing my jawline, and my cheeks, and whatever you could reach.
“That’s fine with me,” you said, “after the course.”
“Stars. Fine! Fine,” I relented, letting you have your way, “I’ll stage a revolution after the course.”
You were very proud three years later when you presented me with a bound book containing all of my essays, alongside a graduation diploma, the eve before Applejack and Rainbow’s wedding.
It was strange to see them married. Stranger still, for all but us, that you and I were the only of us six that were still quite single.
“Can you believe it?!” Pinkie exclaimed during the wedding dinner, all of us gathered at a table sans the married couple. Cheese Sandwich was with her, only her boyfriend still, but both already engaged to be married. “Dashie and Applejack are married!” She turned to Cheese. “And we’re getting married!” She turned to Fluttershy and Discord. “And you— Actually, I don’t know what you are. Best friends forever?” And finally she turned to us both. “And—”
“And I’m too busy running Equestria,” you said, just as I sighed, “And I’m too beautiful to be taken.”
You turned to me, doubtless intending on making some witty remark, but Rainbow Dash was faster, lugging herself over to us and nearly collapsing on the table.
“Rainbow!” I gasped, levitating the food away just in time for her dress to be saved. “Please be careful, for goodness’ sake! Do you know how long I spent on that dress?!”
“Man, I love AJ,” she said, wringing her forehoof, “but how can she have so many relatives? My hoof hurts from shaking so many hooves.” She lifted her face from the table and looked at us all. “What’re you guys talking about?”
“How you’re married!” Pinkie said, and then gestured to Cheese. “And we’re gonna be married!” And then gestured to Fluttershy and Discord. “And who knows what’s up with them!” And finally gestured to us. “And they’re single!”
Rainbow grinned. “Yeah, I didn’t see that coming,” she said, beaming until she turned to me and smirked. “Always figured you’d be the first to get hitched.”
“Why does everypony keep saying that!” I exclaimed, and at everypony’s pointed looks, I doubled down. “Really! I’ve grown up! I’ve matured! I don’t live and die by having a significant other! In fact, I’ve discovered a new love in life!”
Fluttershy giggled. “What’s that?”
“Books,” I said, and I suppressed a smile when your ears perked up. “I’ve been getting new books to read every month for years now, and I love each more than the last.”
“Twilight, you scoundrel!” Discord exclaimed, turning to you with a teasing smirk. “What have you done to her?”
“Nothing!” you exclaimed, doing a poor job at not looking delighted. “Nothing at all.”
V.
It happened a year later, a day after Pinkie’s wedding; the first time I didn’t take the book.
I never told you, but Rainbow’s words left an impact on me that night. It might have been the wedding, the very fact that I was a guest at an event solely dedicated to two ponies committing themselves to each other for the rest of their lives. But that night, wrapped up in your forelegs, I wondered how long I could last.
Of course, routine returned to my life after that, trips and travels distracting me from it all, and I buried the feeling away. Another year, I told myself. I could do another year.
Pinkie’s wedding changed that.
Was it awful of me to feel that way? This horrible dichotomy where I was driven to tears of joy on behalf of my beloved friend, and tears of misery on behalf of Us. I heard them talk and talk during their speech, about all the things they’d do, all the days they’d spend together ‘till death do them part’, and the entire time you were sitting on the other side of the room, surrounded by nobles and dignitaries that required your attention.
Then! Then, to make things worse, all the festivities happened in Canterlot. This wasn’t Ponyville where everyone knew you for you, and didn’t go out of their way to court your favour. This was Canterlot, where nobles had blindly transferred their idolization of Luna and Celestia over to you, and so you spent the entire damn night entertaining them.
Some stallion spent the night at my side. I don’t remember him, to be frank, but I suspect you do, quietly watching him as I let him take me out to dance, then whisk me away to a private place to talk, and all the while indulged this mindless fantasy of doing things the easy way.
All while you watched.
How petty of me! How petty of me, darling dearest, but I didn’t mean to be. Not completely, at least. I loved you, but I couldn’t be with you in the traditional sense, and I genuinely thought I’d reached my limit.
I can’t, I thought to myself, and when I saw you retiring to bed, I made it a point to look engrossed in my conversation with what’s-his-face.
Then it was time to leave, all of us gathered in front of the castle, waving Pinkie and Cheese off as Gummy bore them, strings of cans tied to his tail rattling away.
There we were, and there I was, mindlessly waving with a mindless smile plastered on my face, my attention not on them but on the book I noticed you were levitating.
“Rarity?” you asked when they were gone, and the little smile you offered nearly devastated me. The book floated towards me. “Can you hold my book for a minute?”
I was surprised at first. Were you not upset by my actions the night before? You were never good at hiding your emotions, so all that was left for me to conclude was that you were that secure in our strange little relationship.
Stars.
It shocked me when I took the book in my hooves, as if I hadn’t expected it to be real or to take it at all. The world around me faded to a blur except for you as you spoke with Rainbow Dash, smiling and laughing and unaware of what was about to happen.
There you stood, the sovereign ruler of Equestria, the most powerful alicorn in the land, tall and imposing and beautiful and kind, and I was about to shatter your heart.
“Rarity?” Fluttershy said, standing near me yet sounding so distant. “Are you coming?”
“Yes,” I managed somehow. Everypony was waiting for me, and you were standing there, smiling and looking lovely, sad to see me go but not as sad, my darling dearest, as when I hurriedly handed you the book. “Don’t forget your book, darling!”
Don’t forget your book, I said, and shouted a quick farewell as I marched off, not daring to look back. I marched and marched and marched, all the way to the train station, all the way to Ponyville, until I stepped inside Carousel Boutique and what did I find but my “graduation” diploma hung in the foyer for all to see.
I wept, Twilight. Oh, my darling, I wept like I’d never wept before, this maelstrom of emotions ranging from grief to relief and all in between.
I would have flooded Equestria if I could, crying over you.
But it’s over, I thought. It hurts, my stars, it hurts, but this will be for the better.
Truth be told, I don’t exactly know what ungodly power convinced me to attend the Friendship Council meeting the following month. It was terrifying! Did you hate me? Did you understand? I couldn’t tell which I preferred.
As it turned out, I would have preferred hate.
You greeted me with open forelegs when you saw me walk in with the others. You smiled at me and asked me how I was, asked with such normalcy I was almost too shocked to speak. I almost wondered if you didn’t even care... until you hugged me and pulled away far too fast.
Until I noticed you avoided my gaze as we all sat around and talked.
Until I noticed your hoof trembling when you spoke to me directly.
And the fact remained, Twilight Sparkle, that I still loved you, and to see what I’d done to you was truly something else. As I said, I almost wished you were angry, wished you’d kicked me out of the castle, but instead there you were, valiantly keeping your end of the deal.
If I didn’t take the book, then you had to be okay with that, too.
I didn’t stay in Canterlot that night, and when we all got ready to leave, there was no book for me to take.
We barely saw each other the following months, do you remember? I’d finally opened my boutique in Yakyakistan, so I spent as much time as I could there, far away from Equestria, with the benefit of having destructive howling yaks for neighbors distracting me from my romantic woes.
Now this is the thing, my dear, that I realized far too late.
The relief that comes from throwing off a long-held and dear burden is immediate but shortlived.
The regret follows you for much, much longer.
It was at the Grand Galloping Gala that I caved.
What a grand event! A party like no other in full swing, the kind of event we thought the Gala would be when we were younger, ponies and creatures of all ages drunkenly laughing and stumbling about on the dance floor.
Unlike Princess Celestia, however, you cared little for smiling and waving, instead taking the floor by storm and regaling the delighted crowd with your… shall we say, endearing dance moves that were stylish somewhere, I’m sure.
I watched you dance, transfixed and dazzled, until suddenly you dragged Rainbow Dash in to dance with you. You both danced and danced, until Rainbow was done, and so the music switched from an energetic pop tune to a country hoe-down and now it was Applejack you pulled in for a swing. Terror gripped me when Fluttershy came next, and when she was done and Pinkie practically launched herself at you, I debated running away.
But I couldn’t, and I didn’t, and so I watched and waited for what was to come, my heart nearly beating to a stop when the music began to fade out.
The lights dimmed all around us as a soft ballad filled the room, couples of all ages and races stepping onto the dance floor hoof in hoof, lost in each other’s eyes, and when Cheese Sandwich stepped in to relieve you of his wife, you…
Oh darling.
You sighed, walked off the dance floor and headed towards the bar for a glass of punch.
To my dying day, Twilight Sparkle.
To my dying day, that was the most damning thing you have ever done to me.
I can’t say for sure what happened next, mostly because I was numb. Numb to the dance, numb to the Gala, numb to the world around me because stars alive, Twilight Sparkle. Stars alive.
A blurry moment, crushing in ways I’d never know could be crushing, until the entire world came to a sharp focus when I heard the sound of your voice behind me.
“Rarity.”
I turned to you, my heart caught in my throat when you smiled and extended a hoof.
“Would you like to dance?”
“Dance?”
The word tumbled out of my mouth, unbidden, unwanted.
“Yes,” you said, and my stars, you smiled, and I loved you. “Dance.” And again, when I did not speak, you giggled and moved in to try and drag me there with you. “Come on,” you insisted, your smile vanishing when I desperately held out my hoof.
“No! No,” I said. “Don’t. Please.”
Your eyes darted between my hoof and me, hurt. “...Oh. I’m so—”
“I’ll cry. I will cry, Twilight Sparkle,” I said, pleaded, the regret of it all washing over me in all directions, as I echoed what I’d said to you once before. “I will cry all over your lovely coat, and your lovely dress, and it will be positively ugly to see. It will be hideous.”
But this time, you did not giggle.
Instead, your expression softened. “All right,” you said, and after a moment’s hesitation, you leaned in to nuzzle me until you remembered who you are, and where we were, and who was watching and so you moved back.
Moved back and walked away.
VI.
The next time I was at the castle was three weeks later, carrying with me a small bag.
“I’m sorry, Lady Rarity,” said one of the guards outside the throne room, “but Her Majesty is busy right now. Did you have an appointment?”
“Ah, er, no,” I said, admittedly longing for the days when I didn’t have to schedule in a meeting just to see you. I gestured to my bag on the floor. “I was only hoping to give her this, that’s all.”
“We can give it to her on your behalf,” one of them said. “Would that work?”
I hesitated. Certainly, it wasn’t ideal for what I wanted to do, but I couldn’t wait any longer.
“Yes, that’s fine.” I bowed my head. “Thank you, good sirs.”
Throwing one last glance at my bag and my heart within it, I walked away and was already out the gates by the time a guard ran up to me calling my name.
“Lady Rarity!” he exclaimed, almost out of breath when he caught up to me. “I have a message from Her Majesty. She has time to meet with you tonight after dinner, if you’re able. A room can be prepared for an overnight stay, if necessary.”
I took a breath and smiled. “Oh? That would be wonderful, thank you.”
“Sorry about that,” you said wearily, guiding me into your personal library, still wearing your regalia and crown. “We’re expecting the Asinian Arch-Minister this week to discuss a few trade deals, and not only do I need to make sure the castle is ready to receive him and his entourage, but it seems other neighboring kingdoms found out and now they all want to renegotiate trade deals.”
“Oh my. That sounds terribly exhausting.”
“It is,” you admitted as I sat on a floor cushion and you distinctly walked past the one next to me and sat on the one beyond that. “But it’s interesting, at least, and I mostly know how to handle the different leaders. The ruler of Capra is the only one I think will be a pain.”
“How so?”
“Well. Their leader is a sentient magic crown that I’m pretty sure is going mad,” you said plainly, as though you were noting the weather. “That’s the only ruler Princess Celestia warned me about. The rest should be fine.”
I’ll admit I felt embarrassed hearing you speak like that. How starkly was I reminded you were a monarch now, a ruler who had much more important things to deal with than my conflicting emotions and regrets and…
“What is that you needed to tell me?”
I realized you were addressing me, and now I really regretted it all. My eyes darted towards my small suitcase, and I felt so silly, Twilight. Had I really come all the way to Canterlot to bother you for this? What would you think?
“I…” I cleared my throat. Stars, if I was going to do this, I might as well do it confidently. I levitated my suitcase and neatly placed it in front of you. “These,” I said. “I brought some things I was hoping you could give me feedback on, if you had time.”
You opened the suitcase and blinked curiously at the several furled-up scrolls inside.
“What are these?” you asked, picking one up.
“Essays!” I explained, trying to sound cheery, trying to ignore my shaking forehooves as I spoke.
“Essays? Essays by—” You cut yourself short, having opened it up and doubtless recognized my calligraphy. You put it down and stared at me, confused. “...You?”
“Yes! Yes, by me,” I said quickly, desperately trying not to lose my nerve. “I’ve been reading the books you gave me during the train rides back and from Yakyakistan and Saddle Arabia, and thought I’d write some essays for fun!”
“For fun?” you asked me, and really, you didn’t have to look that bewildered. Your eyes darted towards the suitcase and then back to me. “You wrote over—one, two, three…—six essays for fun?” Even despite it all, you couldn’t help a smile. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I am!” I insisted when you raised an eyebrow. “Regardless! If you have the time, I would love to have your feedback.”
“I see. And you need me to do this now?”
I smiled politely. “If you can, darling. And if you have the time.”
You considered it a moment.
“All right,” you said, eventually, just as your horn flashed and a quill and pot of red ink appeared besides you. “This might take a while, though.”
I sat there, for the next three hours or so, reading the same book over and over, listening to the sound of your quill scratching paper, and trying as best as I could to answer the occasional questions you directed my way.
“This one is done, too,” you said, rolling up the fifth scroll and floating it over. “Did you want to discuss my feedback so far?”
“No!” I blurted out, before quickly composing myself. “Sorry. No, not yet, darling. I’d rather you read the last one first.”
“All right,” you said, taking it from my bag. “What is this one about?”
“Us,” I said, and goodness, the panic when the scroll froze in mid-air, your eyes slightly widening. I almost said something, but stopped myself when the scroll moved again, unfurling in front of you.
“Us,” you repeated, dipping your quill in the ink and starting to read.
I didn’t even bother to pretend to read a book. I simply sat there, staring at you, driven mad by your near-perfect poker face as you read my ridiculously long desperate crossbreed between a love letter and an apology. I didn’t care if our label never changed, I didn’t care if what we had was all we would ever get, it had taken me losing it to realize I didn’t want to live without it.
You were nearly done when a guard banged on the door.
“Your Majesty? Your Majesty!”
“What?!” you yelled, irritated at being interrupted, before remembering who you were and clearing your throat. “I mean, yes! Come in, Razor!”
A guard came in, both of us doing a wonderful job at trying not to look like we wanted him to leave immediately.
“Your Majesty, I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s a messenger from Asinia here to see you. He says it’s urgent.”
Your eyes drifted towards my scroll, and after a moment, you let out a deep breath. “Thank you, Razor. I’ll be out in a minute.”
With a nod, the guard stepped out of the room and closed the door, leaving me alone to face judgement day.
“I’m sorry, Rarity,” you said, standing up and furling the scroll. “I need to take care of this. You’re staying the night here, right?”
“Yes. Yes, I am, yes.”
“All right.” You gathered everything back in the bag and handed it over, just like that. No comments, no emotions, no nothing. “Why don’t we meet tomorrow morning? I had a meeting, but I can try and move it around.”
“That sounds lovely,” I said, quietly, not daring to have hope.
I watched you go, and nearly let you reach the door before I could stop myself. “Twilight, wait!”
And you did, though you did not look back.
Tears filled my eyes.
“Please. Say something. Anything.”
After what felt like a minute, you spoke.
“I’d like to discuss this tomorrow. Or tonight, if you’re awake.”
“I will be,” I replied immediately, because if you wanted to talk, there was still hope for us yet. “I don’t care what time. I’ll wait here if you want.”
Another moment passed, and suddenly you walked away from the door and towards your bookshelves, scanning them over quickly before taking out a book. You took it out, flipped through its pages, walked back towards me, and I’ll admit I felt better when I saw I wasn’t the only one crying.
“Here,” you said, handing me the book, and I died with your smile, “to entertain you while I’m gone and for when you go home.”
“Are you sure?” I whispered, “I’ll ruin it with my tears.”
“I don’t care,” you said, and when I held the book in my hooves, it was all I could do to stop myself from running into your forelegs.
“Your Majesty?” the guard called, again. He opened the door and peeked his head in, contrite. “Your Majesty, we really have to— La-Lady Rarity?!” Awash with concern, he ran over to me, distraught at my tears. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”
“Oh no,” I said, pressing the book against my face, my tears spilling onto the cover, relieved, relieved, so so relieved. “I just… really love books… so much…”
And how confused was your guard, poor thing, bewildered at my statement and even moreso when you giggled, endeared, and smitten, and in love and just like me, I hope, so so so relieved.
VII.
And we were Us again, back to our relationship, back to being a couple in everything but name.
And even as I grew old, I didn’t care if the label didn’t change.
“I’m old, Twilight!” I complained on my bed, that one time you used an official visit to Trottingham to stay with me in the small loft above my boutique. I ran a hoof through my mane, strands of indigo hair dancing with silver. “I’m withering! I have gray hairs now!”
“Rarity, you are not old,” you said, not for the first time that day, nuzzling my neck as you held me near. “You’re fine.”
“You only say that because you don’t look like you’ve aged a day. The only thing you’ve done is grow taller.” I sighed theatrically. “Ah, the days of my youth, when I was young and beautiful and the big spoon.”
I squirmed when you snorted, your breath tickling my neck. “You’ve never been the big spoon.”
“And now I shall never be!” I sighed, draping a forehoof over my forehead. “Now, I shall be… stars, what was it called when the small spoon is too tall and—”
“A jetpack.”
“A jetpack!” I declared in a gasp. “Teeny tiny, barely able to keep you safe and warm in my embrace.”
“Okay,” you said, leaning back. “I am not that tall.”
“Twilight, you’re quite tall. But never fear, my dear!” I leaned in to kiss you. “We’re unstoppable now! You, searching high! Me, searching low! Low and high! High and low! No stray object at the top and bottom of a cupboard will stop us now!”
“That’s never stopped us! We’re unicorns! We have magic!”
“Oh, that’s true,” I said, giggling when you groaned and buried your face in my chest, done with my shenanigans. “And speaking of magic, shouldn’t you be teleporting to your hotel room soon, lest Gallus come knocking and the poor dear sends an entire armada looking for you when he realizes you’re gone.”
You groaned in reply, and I lovingly patted your head.
“There, there, my love. Duty calls!”
“Fine,” you muttered, lifting yourself up to regale me with a kiss before finally forcing yourself off my bed, your mane a complete mess.
“Though perhaps you ought to comb your mane before you do,” I suggested, gesturing to my bathroom. “There should be a brush on the counter.”
“Where?” you called out. “I can’t see—” A gasp interrupted you, nearly followed by complete and utter silence.
“What?” I called back, sitting up in bed, alarmed. “What is it? Twilight?”
And imagine my horror when you emerged from the bathroom, looking like what could only be described as outrageously delighted as you held a bottle of mane dye in the air.
“So you’re getting old, huh?”
“No!” I screeched. “I forgot to put that away!”
“You’re dyeing your mane gray?”
“No! And also it’s silver, not gray!” At your raised eyebrow, I helplessly tried to defend myself. “It’s distinguished, all right? Dis-tin-guished!”
“Rarity! You were literally complaining about looking old less than five minutes ago! And an hour ago! And last night! And—”
“But I am getting old!” I whined, falling back onto the bed and covering my face with the sheets. “I’m just preparing myself for the inevitable! Anticipating the unforgiving passage of time!” A thought crossed my mind, and I quickly sat up, nearly tearing the sheets off me. “Twilight, you cannot tell anypony. Anypony!”
You bit down on your lip.
“Anypony!”
“At least let me tell Applejack.”
“Especially not Applejack!”
“I’m telling Applejack.”
“I said nopony!” I narrowed my eyes. “Or else I’ll start doing that thing you hate.”
You laughed, stepping forward towards the bed. “Oh? And what’s that?”
“Oh, you know what,” I said, a devious smile on my lips, “for Twilight’s sake.”
Your eyes grew wide. “No!” you said, abhorred. “No! Ponies are already doing it, and I hate it!”
I gasped innocently. “Oh my Twilight! Do you? Oh no, I did it again! What in Twilight’s name is wrong with me?”
“Stop!” you screeched, practically launching yourself at the bed, trying to cover my mouth with your hoof while I fought back tears of laughter.
“Dear Twilight, I’m being attacked by Twilight!” I called out, hiding under the sheets. “Help, help!”
“Rarity, stop!” you begged, and finally I did, your hoof against my mouth doing a wonderful job at muffling my giggling. “Are you don—Ew!” You lifted your hoof away from my mouth, shaking it just as I quickly retrieved my tongue. “You don’t even know where my hoof has been!”
“Darling,” I said, fluttering my eyelashes, “I know exactly where your hoof has been.”
“Rarity!”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look more exasperated in my life, which was fine because I was too busy laughing.
“What am I going to do with you?” you asked me, lying back on the bed, your chin on my chest and your eyes set on mine as I brushed back your bangs.
“I suppose you should be glad we’re not together officially or else you’d have to figure out what to do with me every day of your life, hm?”
And you stared at me. Stared at me briefly in a way I don’t think you’d ever stared at me before, as if you weren’t just looking at me, but really truly seeing me.
And I wonder, in retrospect, if that’s when you knew.
VIII.
You’d indulged me, that day, by giving a dear friend of mine a personal tour of the castle.
“Princess, you’ve been exceedingly kind,” Knowledge Quill said, following us into the private library we so often occupied. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“It’s no problem, Professor,” you said, gesturing towards a trio of floor cushions around a table where tea and cookies awaited us. “It isn’t always that I tour the castle to someone, and they know things about it that I didn’t!”
He laughed, embarrassed. “Ah, thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Oh, don’t be so modest, dear!” I said, taking a seat next to you. “You are impressive!”
“I assume this is your personal collection, Princess?” he asked next, looking around at the hundreds of books.
“I guess you could say that,” you said. “Some of these books are from when I was still a student under Celestia.”
It was as we looked around that I suddenly noticed something distinctly out of place: two new bookshelves, both completely devoid of books.
“Oh, those are new!” I said, drawing your attention to them.
“Are you adding more books to your collection?” he asked you next.
You smiled at him.
“Yes, and no. I’m hoping a dear friend of mine will come live at the castle soon,” you said, coolly lifting your cup and taking a sip before continuing, “and I think she’ll be bringing lots of books with her.”
“Oh, how fun!” he exclaimed, so focused on you he missed me nearly choking on my cookie.
“W-why, Twilight!” I said, absolutely composed. Ab-so-lute-ly. “I had no idea! When exactly are you planning on receiving her?”
You shrugged. “Whenever, really. Tomorrow, if she wanted,” you said, and you fiend, I saw you try to hide a smile when I nearly spat out my tea.
“Tomorrow! Ha-ha!” I stared at my reflection in my tea. “My. How soon.”
“I’m trying to not to pressure her, of course,” you said next, almost as if you were confiding in us. “It’s an open offer, but she doesn’t have to take it until she’s ready or even at all.”
“Well!” Quill said. “If I were her, I’d move in today! I’ve always loved castles. Speaking of which, I had a few questions about the one in Ponyville, if you don’t mind…”
Quill was still with us, hours later, when he and I were due to catch a train, blissfully unaware of the fact that I desperately needed to talk to you alone.
“It was wonderful to meet you, Princess Twilight!” he said, bowing down. “I do hope you’ll visit Yakyakistan soon!”
I couldn’t take it any longer.
“Oh, Quill, won’t you be a dear and give me a minute with Twilight?” I asked, and panicked when he complied, waving off and trotting outside, leaving me completely alone with you.
“It’s fine, Rarity,” you said before I could speak, an affectionate smile weaved on your lips.
“What?”
“I said it’s fine,” you repeated, and my did you really play the part of the wise ruler, calm and composed and in control. “It’s fine if you’re not ready yet.”
“I’m not,” I said, and I hated it. How long had I been waiting for that moment, Twilight? How long, how long, how long, and now it was there and my, my, my, I was not prepared. “Do you mind waiting?”
You hummed. “Not really. In fact, I just came up with a great idea! I’ll give you something every month juuust so you know I’m still happy to wait. How about books? In fact!” You grinned and a book floated in front of me. “Here’s one now.”
“Ah, Princess Twilight Sparkle,” I said, taking the book and pressing it against the second heart you owned, “I do love you, I hope you know that.”
I loved you dearly, Twilight Sparkle. More dearly than I have loved anything in my life.
I suppose what I’m trying to say is that if I wasn’t ready then, I think I am now.
Ready for Us, whatever shape or form it takes.
???
It was a bright and sunny day when Princess Twilight Sparkle descended from the Ponyville Express, a lump in her throat at having just said goodbye to her number one student. And it was fine! It was fine, she’d be fine, because if Princess Celestia had been able to handle it with her, then she could as well.
“I don’t know how Princess Celestia did it,” she said, jumping down onto the platform. “I don’t. I’m sick with worry. What if Luster doesn’t make friends? It looked like she was making friends, but what if she doesn’t? What if she needs some sort of supernatural magical event that will bond them forever?” She turned towards the train and extended a hoof. “Should I create a supernatural magical event that will bond them forever?”
“Twilight, darling, no,” Rarity said, taking Twilight’s hoof in hers and walking down onto the platform. She readjusted her shawl and gave the princess a stern look. “I can assure you not all ponies need to save the world together to be friends.”
“Are you sure?” At Rarity’s pointed look, she groaned. “Sorry. I’m just... I know she’ll be fine, and I’m worrying too much, but... Ugh.”
“Come here, dear,” Rarity said, extending her hoof and when Twilight leaned down, the unicorn patted her head. “There, there, Your Majesty. There, there.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You’re absolutely welcome,” Rarity said, now lifting Twilight’s chin with her hoof. “Aren’t I wonderful?”
“Wonderful,” Twilight repeated, leaning back up and playfully rolling her eyes. “Anyway. How long are you staying this time?”
“Oh, I’m not sure,” Rarity replied. “I’m not in a hurry to go anywhere else.”
“Alright,” said the princess happily, not one to begrudge more time with the unicorn. That said, she looked at something beyond Rarity and moved along. “Come on. Let’s get your luggage.”
“Phew. I think this is all of it, your majesty,” Gallus said, wiping the sweat off his brow and presenting Rarity’s incredibly normal quantity of twelve suitcases, plus six carry-ons, plus a handbag.
“Travelling light, huh?” the princess asked.
“It’s just necessities!”
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Necessities.”
“Necessities!” Rarity exclaimed. “Oh! Speaking of which…” She levitated her handbag over and looked it inside it. “I have something for you, dear. One moment… Ah-hah!”
With great pride, she took out a small hoofbound novella and presented it to the princess.
“Voila! I thought I should give you a book for a change.”
“For me?” She took it in her magic and looked it over. “‘In Everything But Name’,” she read aloud. “It doesn’t say by who?”
Rarity encouraged her with a hoof. “Open it up, dear. You’ll see, you’ll see.”
Intrigued, Twilight did as told, and what a start when she realized that not only was the book entirely hoof-written, but it was written in a calligraphy she immediately recognized.
“Wait.” She leafed through the book. “Rarity, did you write this?!”
“I did!” she exclaimed. “At last, your dream has come true! You made me love books so much that I just had to write one myself!”
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! Rarity!” she continued, drawing the attention of nearby ponies unused to seeing their sovereign ruler jump up and down in place like an excited schoolfilly. “This is amazing!”
“Now, now, be careful with it! I won’t write you another if it tears!” Rarity warned, gesturing for Twilight to relax. “In fact,” she continued, and she casually gestured to a few of her suitcases. “Why don’t we put it with the others?”
“The others?” Twilight asked, and when Rarity simply smiled, her eyes grew wide. “Wait. Wait. The other what?”
“The other books, of course. The one’s you’ve so kindly lent me for all these years,” she said, a loving smile on her face, and when Twilight’s sparkling eyes welled with tears, so did hers.
“Your Majesty?” Gallus asked, alarmed. “Is everything fine?”
“Huh? O-oh! Ha ha!” She rubbed a hoof against her eyes, grinning from side to side. “Yes! Yes, everything’s fine!” she exclaimed and when her horn lit up, the suitcases floated up one by one.
“Your Majesty!” Gallus exclaimed, trying to pull them down. “I can take them!”
“No, no, it’s fine! I want to take them!” the princess exclaimed, happy, happy, happy, before marching off. “Let’s go!”
“Princess Twilight! Please!” he called, until Rarity put a comforting hoof on his shoulder.
“Better let her be, dear,” she said, sympathetic before trotting off to catch up with her beloved. “You know how she is when she has her mind set on something.”
Twilight was still grinning when she caught up, and she couldn’t help a laugh.
“My, my, aren’t you a happy filly. Though I don’t mean to be a party-pooper, you really don’t have to be carrying my luggage, my darling.”
“It’s not your luggage, though,” Twilight said, matter-of-factly.
“It’s not? What a surprise!” Rarity exclaimed, amused. “Who does it belong to, pray tell?”
“Us,” replied Princess Twilight Sparkle, ready for the next change in her life. “It belongs to Us.”
Fin
Author's Note
Inspired by this wonderful song by Dodie.
Canon: And so Rarity and Twilight are the only ones who stayed single. The end.
Me: You mean dating in secret?
Canon: Uhm, we--
Me: DATING. IN. SECRET.
Canon: But--
Me: IN. SECRET. DATING. SECRETLY DATING. DATING IN SECRET.
ALSO HAHA, IT'S STILL NOT MIDNIGHT IN LOS ANGELES, SO I ABSOLUTELY SUBMITTED THIS STILL DURING RARITWI BOMB WEEK.
