Togetherness with Twilight Sparkle
There was something incredibly, ridiculously, and immensely incalculable to romance to Twilight Sparkle. She knew how to split a check. (Rarity and her covered things half-and-half.) Holding open the door for her partner (because there was always the outlier stallion to the many mares Twilight fancied) was an automatic gesture. Twilight Sparkle wasn’t sure if she could say she liked this effect of love; it was too soon to formulate a proper conclusion. Smiling and noting all that was said in the seesaw pattern of banter was a skill she had honed since arriving in Ponyville.
The ins-and-outs of intimacy were shaping up to be much more nerve-wracking. Twilight had been on her share of lunch dates since coming to Ponyville, but those never went anywhere beyond hoof-holding and pecks on the cheek. That wasn’t to say that Twilight Sparkle didn’t want more, she just needed that sense of predictability…
...and that her want for more of a romance came with less of everything that solidified any sense of security she had.
Twilight Sparkle tried to breathe through her mouth in the quietest way possible. She also tried her hardest to pretend that there weren’t a few drops of sweat collecting under her mane when Rarity nuzzled her.
She tried to let her mind blank. None of the memories of the (few) ponies she had been with in the past would be helpful. The why to that was just so obvious: none of them were Rarity.
None of them are Rarity, Twilight thought as the rest of her mind skipped to a stop. She sank next to Rarity on the bed and listened to her laughing. She tried to block out the thought of what-if...
...she had forgotten a breath mint? Or, at least a fourth one. She knew she had brushed her teeth exactly twelve times (the only acceptable number before dates) before she had gone out to meet Rarity.
...her freshly washed bedspread was too juvenile? The stars were completely inaccurate and the misrepresentation of the cosmos never stopped bugging her. All that stopped her from replacing it was that she hadn’t ever brought anypony back to the library for a date before (sleepovers, however, were a very different story) and good quilts were hard to find. Would Rarity understand that was why she had such an annoyingly fanciful quilt?
(And really, weren’t all fictitious representations of the heavens bothersome? In the rare letters she exchanged with Princess Luna, the goddess never agreed with the sentiment. Twilight couldn’t explain why that bothered her so much.)
...Spike and the Cutie Mark Crusaders weren’t having fun this afternoon? Was the scavenger hunt she drew up for them not educational enough? Had she not hidden all the clues for them in the right places? Was there not enough algebra? (How anypony could have fun without even a little bit of math was beyond her.)
She must have been rambling, and about the very things she had wanted to vanish from her loud, cluttered mind. What-if, what-if, what-if. Rarity was laughing along with Twilight like she had told a joke, and the gorgeous sound of it was absolutely overwhelming. Twilight Sparkle felt so small when she was basking in its lovely, clear sound. She was like Smarty Pants in the shadow of herself with Rarity, but so much better.
Rarity knew that too. It was shining in her big blue eyes all the ways that there was more between them. Those eyes said they loved her, or at least they looked like they had love to Twilight. Cadance was always telling her that there was no one look to love but there were some facets of a look that could never be love, and would never be love. It was a wholly confusing thing, and Twilight Sparkle was left thinking it was better to imagine love made no sense whatsoever.
There was one problem with that: Rarity made a lot of sense. Even with bits of dust in her mane from where they had been cleaning bookshelves together, Rarity was still so beautiful and… symmetrical in how she appeared to Twilight.
Twilight accepted Rarity’s nuzzle, wanting to be close to that melodic voice, and returned one of her own. The pile of cheesy romance novels that had been abandoned since they returned from lunch no longer claimed their attention. Instead, Rarity swept up Twilight in a hug, planting a kiss on her cheek, and they both fell back onto the bed together grinning happily.
Rarity had girlish giggles to share every time Twilight squeaked and let out a coughing gasp. The mare who prided herself on being delicately lady-like had a Minotaur’s grip when she wanted to show it. Twilight Sparkle was left to squawk through each constricting squeeze as Rarity pulled Twilight closer, peppering her with kisses.
...
From the start of their relationship, two things were as plain as Princess Celestia’s power over the sun. The first was that Rarity was the tall girlfriend. Twilight Sparkle hadn’t done much comparison of the height between her, Rarity, and their other friends. Each of them was well within the realm of what was average for mares and the Equestrian population as a whole that aside from those on the slighter side, there was no need to keep track of anything. Pinkie Pie was the shortest, with Fluttershy as a diminutive second. Applejack was comfortable in the place of fourth tallest (or third shortest) and Twilight was comfortable to have Rarity be her tall girlfriend. Rainbow Dash could crow all she wanted about being the tallest of them all.
This had its advantages. Rarity could read over Twilight’s withers with ease when Twilight Sparkle couldn’t think of a laypony’s way to explain her books. It also gave Rarity an optimal place to style Twilight’s mane before all their outings. From her superior height, Rarity could also give Twilight Sparkle surprise smooches when her marefriend least expected it.
The second most important thing about their relationship was about their relationship-relationship. That was how all Twilight Sparkle’s romance novels implied serious social context without making their significant others feel alienated, so it only felt right that Twilight Sparkle should copy the sacred scripts of the experts. This second fact could only be addressed through the communication of two sub-facts:
- Twilight Sparkle currently had the romantic capabilities of a half-eaten daisy sandwich. The last time she had anything close to a romantic relationship was time spent with Moondancer, which she never told anypony about.
- Rarity had never been with a mare for more than a hoofful of dates. She had been honest to Twilight, that while she was her beloved purple girlfriend, a muse, and a treasure she still had always leaned more toward a prince than a princess.
All of this was a recipe for a low-key relationship. Rarity was not a low-key mare. In her bones were the whispers to do everything in the most absorbing, inspiring way possible. To make the first foray into a romantic relationship anything short of spectacular would be the actions of an anti-Rarity. This was the reason why Rarity was adamant that Twilight be the one to direct the careful first steps of easing them into the relationship, and eventually the rest of their friends.
(’You could make flashcards!’ Rarity had insisted, her eyes shining. Twilight had a feeling that would be the only time Rarity would be excited about flashcards in their relationship.)
Now, it wasn’t that Twilight was opposed to being the sort-of leader in anything, but to lead without orders baffled her. Wasn’t that how everypony did things? Finding herself as the big spoon didn’t come with instructions. Things that didn’t come with instructions had a distant, threatening feeling to Twilight Sparkle.
Even as she hugged Rarity close to her and pressed her cheek ever-so-gently into Rarity’s curls, she couldn’t help but think of anything but how cold her back was. Meanwhile, Rarity slept in her hooves, soundlessly, leaving Twilight Sparkle to be awake alone.
...
Twilight Sparkle’s whole body was heavy with exhaustion. Her hooves were held slack under the blankets and she let their warmth sweep over her. None of it compared to the soft feeling of Rarity’s embrace, or the gentle touch of dark curls brushing against Twilight’s coat. Surely, being held by Rarity was the second warmest place, save for the surface of the sun… or the San Palomino Desert… or… a few other places, Twilight supposed.
Applejack could enjoy the night of the annual reunion with her family. Rainbow Dash could enjoy her weather duties, and Pinkie Pie could have all the time with the Cakes. Fluttershy could garden and care for every creature that crossed her path. Spike and the Cutie Mark Crusaders could keep every bit of youthful fun they had. Everypony else could have the moments the days and seasons permitted spent how they liked, but Twilight Sparkle was certain she would never exchange a single second she spent with Rarity for anypony else in the world.
Author's Note
Author's notes go more in-depth on the next chapter, but for now: I needed a fluff break. Not just from self-isolation stuff, but in general.
It was three nights after Twilight Sparkle first got her wings that she suggested Rarity be the little spoon. The idea was already a peculiar one. Usually, it was Twilight whose mind plodded steadily along three different paths at once, too measured to stray to dreams and much too orderly to become insistent. Rarity was the northward needle of them, sharp and guiding. To declare was too dramatic, and to demand was too forceful for Twilight Sparkle. She knew how to lecture, and goodness, could she interweave that with info-dumping in ways nopony else could. But what she did not do was command, and that was no doubt the biggest paradox to her princesshood.
Yet, it was more than the looming sight of those new wings that were behind those words. Rarity was absorbed by the look of something close to pleading in those two lovely amethyst eyes dripping with unshed embarrassment, a silent highlight to her marefriend’s request. And it was a request that Rarity would have no problem filling.
Should have no problem filling. She was not unfamiliar when it came to being the delicate, elegant little spoon. There was a subtle refinement to the act, a perfect balance that only was diminished with carelessness behind being called a small girlfriend. Oh yes, Rarity was aware that Twilight was no longer the slight mare she had been, but Rarity would never ever let anypony say that being petite meant she was not bursting with a deliciously snuggly personality.
(Thank you very much.)
Not feeling Twilight Sparkle’s new wings tickling her stomach into uncomfy oblivion was certainly… nice.
Rarity shouldn’t mind being the little spoon with Twilight Sparkle.
But.
But but but.
(Such was the pitter-patter of her thoughts firing between her ears, which like to rest of her were not particularly pleased about her wandering mind on this eve’s insomnia.)
But with Twilight Sparkle she did.
With her stallion loves, Rarity relished in getting to be whatever spoon suited her. When it came to the few mares who had her heart before Twilight Sparkle, Rarity was very much the same. Sure, she was a smidge fussier with her marefriends, but she could never say why. Just that it usually led to her be a feisty ladle of a mare ready to absolutely smother her teaspoon of a marefriend when the time came to relax.
The coziness of Golden Oak’s master bedroom pressed down upon Rarity instead of cradling her into the Sandmare’s embrace that night. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing them with all her might to become heavy with the perfect slumber. Instead, Rarity felt the incessant wriggling of Twilight Sparkle in her half-asleep fitfulness. The whole inside of the ancient oak no longer felt hollow; there was an atmosphere of tense, bated breath permeating every bit of the dark.
It wound and wound and wound…
...right until Twilight Sparkle’s wings snapped open, snatching the blankets from them both so that the cold rushed upon them both.
...
Twilight Sparkle’s family was like a line of boxes. Most days, Rarity envied that. Her marefriend grew up with a family that was identical to their picturesque perfection both in albums and out of them. Her Twilight Sparkle had been doted on so sweetly, rather than overly so by a mother who worked from home. Meanwhile, Rarity still remembered all the days when she was left with the housesitter and asked more about how she felt about her mother’s gourmet chef tours and father’s work as a youth hoofball coach than her own apprenticeship with the local seamstress.
She hadn’t ever been expected to say what she really thought, or ever mention how much she loved her involvement in drama club, fencing lessons, or how much she was looking forward to finishing school when she was old enough. Rarity certainly wasn’t afforded the same treatment as Twilight, who told her all about how much she was the star that dazzled all the houseguests who orbited her and her prodigy brother. Of course, that wasn’t anything close to how Twilight Sparkle actually recounted things, but how could anypony blame Rarity for adding every dramatic trapping her lovely marefriend neglected.
In those moments, when they both could lounge together in Twilight’s vast castle with Rarity sewing her next creation by magelight, it was always their tails that were the first to intertwine. Despite the enormity and enchantment that her marefriend’s castle offered, the atmosphere it offered was never cold. Most ponies would think that the mystical, regal edifice was the most alienating feature in Ponyville. Though Rarity would never say it, the pond-side cottage she grew up in was a much more crowded, chaotic kind of loneliness. Her foalhood home with Sweetie Belle and the rest of her family bore the same painful anonymity that Manehattan streets dumped on the working mares, unable to be artists as she was.
Rarity loved the sister she had by blood and would forsake her for nothing. Yet, when she was in the place she was now…
…with the love of her life, her princess, her Twilight curled up at her side reading without worry, her muzzle scrunched up in the cutest way…
...Spike, too, was lounging beside her as she rested; he flipped through a comic book diligently in a stark contrast to the rambunctious Sweetie Belle…
...whenever they were all together like this, indulging in quiet time Rarity felt like a book wedged comfortably between two bookends.
Rarity felt more at home in the castle of her heart’s family than she did anywhere else.
...
As long as they had been together, Twilight Sparkle had always been the little spoon. It was a simple fact of life, no different than knowing which of the gods had control over which heavenly bodies. Twilight Sparkle was the mind of the relationship, in her chronically adorkable ways, but she was the kind of mind that never stopped bowing to the power of the heart. And that heart was Rarity, and she was Rarity’s Twilight. Rarity cherished this, the charming simplicity in her whirlwind life as an artist of knowing that Twilight Sparkle would always be her darling little spoon.
Wings and a growth spurt did not fit into the sacred art of spooning dynamics that Rarity and Twilight had long since settled into. Feathers could prove to be pesky things, and nopony wanted to deal with wings springing out from under a blanket because the pony who bore them had not mastered folding the feathery appendages.
That night, deep in the crystal castles halls where Luna’s starshine did not reach, Rarity was determined to solve the snuggle dilemma that had plagued them both for far too long. With careful motions, she shimmied about and pulled one foreleg out from under Twilight’s soft coat. She kept as silent as possible, particularly about how her marefriend’s oatburger sprees could not be chalked up her grand growth spurt, and her budding pudge was making her rather weighty to hold.
Without disturbing the luxuriously cozy blankets that they shared, Rarity successfully untangled herself from Twilight Sparkle’s sleeping form. She watched her chest rise and fall, careful to observe the pattern of her breathing with the greatest detail possible in the darkened bedroom. Of the two of them, it was Twilight who was the light sleeper. Her still-new wings and their ‘quirks’ only amplified that.
Rarity waited for one, two, three, four breaths and listened to the patter of her own heart in her ears. When there was no more than a twitch to Twilight’s wings, Rarity knew she was safe from any surprises. She expertly crept around Twilight and settled across from her marefriend, making the slightest ripples spread throughout the sheets. The silk, warm touch they had made Rarity’s beating heart ease into a much gentler pace. As she adjusted to her new, unfamiliar space Rarity heard the telltale sound of rustling feathers. There was not a doubt in her mind that one of Twilight Sparkle’s wings would be splayed out where Rarity had once lain, if only she cared to rise and see.
But Rarity did no such thing, not when the weight of comfort was hers to command and sleep was calling her. She nuzzled up to Twilight Sparkle, her muzzle tucked right under her lover’s own. Unicorns were said to sleep more heavily than the dead; they had to. The unmovable object of all Twilight Sparkle’s hypothetical this-and-thats could not be anything other than a peacefully sleeping unicorn pony. Though her marefriend’s wing had unfurled without the grace of Rarity’s imagination, her tired mind was wondering. Did Cadance have to learn to sleep heavier than a brick? And what of those who were born to godhood, as Luna and Celestia were? Did they sleep as soundly as unicorns did?
She did not have the time to answer herself. Rarity’s eyelids fluttered closed, slipping into deeper, comforting darkness. Her curls spilled around her pale face in neat waves, she felt their cool touch as her mind slipped away quietly. She felt Twilight’s own mane, which was much more sleep-frazzled, brushing above the bridge of her muzzle.
Rarity could sleep contentedly knowing that from now on, she would be the big little spoon. Twilight Sparkle, her princess, and her love would always be the grand one, even when she was caught between being adorably oblivious to it or adamantly denying that it was so. She was the crown and scepter, as ponies surely realized. No matter how grand and royal her lover was, the crown jewel of Rarity’s dreams, it was always the diamond (no matter how small) that was the unforgettable heart of all.
At last, Rarity’s dilemma was solved. Sleepily, Rarity wound her forelegs around her marefriend’s midsection, holding her Twilight tightly as they lay across from each other, face to face.
Dreaming, together.
Author's Note
Writing Raritwi doesn't come particularly easy to me. Admittedly, I get anxious trying to approach my ideas that I have for the pair. Being anxious about writing isn't something that normally happens to me, but there's such a devoted sub-community for Raritwi with Expectations On How Raritwi Should Be that I just... ended up never touching most of my ideas for the two because I want to contribute my flavor of Raritwi words for me first, not imitating anyone else. They're one of my favorite pony pairs, and even though Rarity's voice can be hard to nail for me, I felt that it was finally about time I began to chip into some of those ideas I had for the two with some fluff to start with. It's been a while since I've written anything that's pure fluff, minimal everything else. I hope it was alright; I'd really like to be able to put out some more fluff-centric ideas sometimes. Drabbles and things are nice, especially since I can't always be doing epic horse shenanigans. I like getting to focus on some of the little moments and relationships in my continuity.
Raritwi is also just good.
