Twilight felt tired. Sleep tugged at her lids, trying hard to drag them closed, but she fought against the allure of a good nap.
She sat on her seat around an enchanted slab of stone that made up the centerpiece of her castle, staring at the map and the piles of papers stacked atop and beside. She held a quill up before her within a pinkish magical aura, though she did not put it to paper. Instead, deep, dark ink dripped from the quill’s tip and onto one of the many rolls of parchment laid across the map table.
Twilight’s eyes did not focus on any point in particular, but instead drifted around. She gazed at the table, her quill floating past Ponyville and to the large star-shaped structure that sat at one particular edge. The cosy little town looked so small to her from her seat of power. She felt a tickle at the top of her head, as though her own gaze penetrated the crystal and stone walls around her.
Twilight forced herself to glance northward, over Canterlot and then beyond Equestria’s northern borders. Her lips curled a little at the warmth and love in the middle of that frozen wasteland.
In Twilight’s periphery, she spotted the hamlet where she and her friends had met Starlight. Her muscles tensed and ears pricked up. A small alarm rang in her head and she forced herself to look toward the eastern coast.
She glanced over Manehattan and its over-represented urban sprawl, only to stop and focus on something faded and beige. She saw words along the top of the page, but when she tried to read them, the text’s true meaning was garbled. She tried again, mouthing them out this time, pushing past the struggle to understand the gist of each letter–
All of a sudden she jerked up when the door to the map room opened with a thunk and a creak. Her horn flared, flicking the quill into the air. Ink careened off the end.
A few deep black blots landed on the cheek and chest of the otherwise immaculate white unicorn that opened the door. To her credit, instead of screaming up a storm, she only stared in abject horror at the vandalism.
Twilight splayed out her ears and backed up in her seat, but she also couldn’t help but sigh with some relief as Rarity shuddered and walked toward the table. “Sorry, Rarity,” Twilight offered her friend a sheepish smile. “You sorta startled me.”
“So you threw ink at me?” Rarity huffed, and with a glow of her horn, she pulled in a case and bag from the hall behind her. Out of the bag came a white and blue handkerchief, which then turned black and blue as Rarity wiped herself clean. The played-up scowl turned into a smirk. “Though you were most likely drawn into your new work, I suppose. In the zone, shall we say?”
Twilight glanced back over at the documents before her, then back to Rarity with a smudge on her cheek. She bit her lip. “Something like that,” Twilight muttered. “What brings you here anyway?”
Rarity raised an eyebrow. “The new gown for the upcoming gala. The one I told you I would bring?” She took the handkerchief away, but there was still a large, dark mark across Rarity’s cheek. Twilight suppressed the pang in her heart, but she could not draw her eyes away.
“The–oh, my gown, right,” Twilight tittered as she vacated her seat, walking up to Rarity.
Rarity nodded back as she absent-mindedly lifted the case up and onto the map table. “Yes, that one.” Rarity flicked open the clasps on her case without looking, while she reached forward with a hoof to give Twilight's mane a gentle lift. “Goodness, you are looking so frizzy. Have you been taking care of yourself?”
Twilight swallowed. Her nerves were fired to jerk her away, but her muscles rebelled, keeping her rooted in place. “I’ve been so busy,” Twilight squeaked out.
“Twilight!” Rarity cried out. “You are a princess, you can’t just let yourself go!” Rarity tutted as the case popped open, and a thick gown of deep blues and purples bulged over the top. “It’s a good thing I brought more than a dress with me. Please stay still for a few moments.”
Twilight’s wings twitched and she stepped back. “I’m busy!” she protested, but Rarity had already whipped out a brush and was tugging it through Twilight’s mane.
“Pish-posh, Twilight. Even the work of a princess can wait while she takes care of herself.” Rarity stepped closer, her head tilted to examine Twilight’s side. “Now stay still, please.”
Twilight squeaked as Rarity’s head drew in close. The faint, alcoholic sting that accompanied the strong smell of lavender perfume made Twilight’s eyes water.
As Rarity lifted her head to pay attention to her brush, their muzzles met. The kiss held as the two stood still for a long, excruciating moment. With Twilight’s eyes rammed shut with leaking tears, she could not see the expression on Rarity’s face.
The clattering of the brush falling to the floor sent a shock through Twilight’s mind. She threw her eyes open, taking in Rarity’s expression, and her heart fell. With a sudden motion she backed up slightly, with her wings held aloft, a weak smile tugging at her lips, if only for a second.
Rarity’s face was still. Those plucked perfect eyebrows had shot up high. Those magnificent eyes narrowed and stared at the Princess. Despite the slight part to her lips, her skin and fur outlined the muscles of her jaw where they had tensed.
The Princess bowed her head, and all the air in her lungs spilled out. “That was stupid.”
Rarity took in a sharp breath through her nose, making Twilight wince.
“Yes,” Rarity replied, her voice faint yet sharp. “I mean it was–I’m flattered, but–” Rarity glanced about. She looked to the table, over the dress. She sighed, and some of the tightness in Rarity’s muscles dissipated. She pulled the dress out, and said at last, “Well, that’s made a professional fitting quite awkward.”
