The agonized wail echoed throughout the top floor of the tower, spreading out from there to travel on the wind over Equestria, away from Canterlot. The beautiful unicorn in the remarkably messy room let her head rest on top of her crossed forearms, almost crying: “It's the Worst. Possible. Thing.”
“Rarity? You all right?”
Few would dare to enter the renown fashionista's creativity room unbidden, but her husband, Spike, knew he was welcome at any time.
Rarity looked up from her desk, having all but forgotten about the existence of others in her plight: “Oh, I'm sorry, Darling! I didn't mean to startle or distract you from your work. It's just …” The dragon's wife trailed off.
“Artist's block?” The younger man ventured an educated guess.
Her bottom lip quivering, her face contorted into a gorgeous frown close to crying, the unicorn nodded: “I have to come up with new designs for all my deluxe customers and the Galloping Gala is only eight weeks away and … I have no ideas!” The dam finally broke and Rarity started to sob openly, feeling overwhelmed by stress and other people's expectations.
Her lover quickly rushed to her side, hugging her and stroking her back: “There, there. You always manage to come up with something spectacularily amazing. I'm sure if you just step back a little and unwind, inspiration will come flowing back to you. How about using other cultures for inspiration? That has been successful for you before, hasn't it?”
Rarity looked at Spike almost accusingly: “I've done them all!”
It was true. Over the recent years, when ever the Grand Galloping Gala was approaching and Rarity had some trouble thinking of novel and breathtaking designs, she had studied other cultures and incorporated elements of their traditional fashion in ways that complemented pony physique. Zebras, cows, griffons … even yaks, for Luna's sake (though Rarity had to say she was quite proud of how fashionable those little fake fur hats and the pillows of fake fur around the wrists and ankles of her dresses had looked). There just wasn't any culture she hadn't already used as inspirational basis!
“I'm doomed!” The white unicorn continued as Spike didn't respond after a second of silence. “Burned out! My creativity, my wellspring of passion, gone forever! Oh, I'll be the laughingstock of Equestria, all my customers will start looking elsewhere for fashionable wear and never, ever come back!”
“It won't be that bad …” her husband tried to console her.
“No, it will be worse!” Rarity interrupted him. “I'll be a has-been, a nobody, living on the street in poverty and shunned by everybody!”
“Now, now …” Spike hugged her tightly, using one of his hands to turn her face so she looked into his deep green eyes. “No matter what ever else happens, you'll always have me.”
Rarity melted into his embrace, feeling herself relax. She knew it to be true: no force in the universe would ever make Spike abandon her.
“Oh, I'm just a drama queen, ain't I?” The slender alabaster unicorn asked her husband, slightly embarrassed about her emotional outburst.
“I love you just the way you are.” Spike chuckled, gently stroking the beautiful mare's back.
Feeling a little gush of happiness, Rarity gave her lover a brief kiss, then leaned her head against his shoulder as she enjoyed just being held by him. She was blessed in that her partner understood that occasionally giving in to her inclination to overdramatize was an important way for her to deal with emotional stress and the strain her social activities put on her. Honestly, without having Spike to rely on, she might have broken down years ago.
Not surprisingly, Rarity's fashion line boomed, demand continually increasing throughout Equestria and even beyond. A lot of the simpler work was being handled by Coco Pommel, who by now even had several assistants of her own, while Rarity designed special sets that the others based their clothing on. For a very select clientele Rarity still created individual masterpieces, tailored specifically to showcase their best assets, but most ponies could at best hope to afford one of the standardized dresses that Coco and her assistants designed inspired by Rarity's originals. While the fashionista would have preferred to give each and every pony a perfectly tailored, individual dress that would accentuate their beauty optimally, that unfortunately just wasn't a realistically feasible dream.
Spike, meanwhile, handled a lot of the logistic and financial detail work that running a widespread fashion network necessarily entailed. While Rarity herself was a bit of a financial genius, as her owning the Boutique in Ponyville before she was twentyfive, and running a fashion company before she was thirtyfive proved, it was really nice to push some of these often somewhat mind-numbingly repetitive tasks onto someone else who could be trusted to handle them well. And Spike, having from his earliest childhood been trained by Twilight to be her assistant, sorting and re-sorting, writing in even finer cursive than his unicorn mentor and being able to handle vast amounts of information fluently, was perfectly suited to oversee all those lists of purchases and salaries and ongoing costs. With Spike now in charge of logistics, Rarity could focus on her real passion: designing.
Some time after their marriage, the two of them had finally moved to Canterlot. It had been a hard decision for Rarity to leave the Boutique and her friends behind, but even with Ponyville growing due to Twilight's School of Friendship and her castle being positioned there, it still kept it's charm as a small town, which Rarity found lovely, but it also meant that getting large amounts of rare materials on short notice or specialist craftsmen for special orders was quite difficult. This hadn't been a problem when Rarity had only designed maybe two dozen dresses a year, being able to order parts far in advance, but with her massively increased output over the past years Ponyville's infrastructure just couldn't keep up. And while she missed her friends at times, they were less than a day's travel away, and Rarity quite enjoyed the cosmopolitan nature of Canterlot.
One other reason, one that she did not talk to others about, was that Twilight had 'borrowed' Spike a little too often. Rarity could understand that very well: if you gave Spike any task you could expect it to be done perfectly, so he was the most comfortable and easy solution for so many problems, but he was Rarity's husband now, and it was time for Twilight to find someone else to push work onto.
Spike coughed politely, and Rarity realized that she had been lying in his muscular arms silently, lost in her thoughts, for several minutes: a simple but delightful pleasure that her marriage afforded her.
“How about I take you out for dinner to Rousseau's tonight?” The younger dragon asked, now that he had his wife's attention.
“Oh, that'd be delightful, Darling, but there's still so much work to do here and I haven't even started on the designs for the Gala. I really must double down and somehow come up with a new concept.”
“Rarity.” Spike addressed her, and held her gaze with his own: “I am taking you to dinner at Rousseau's tonight.”
The unicorn did a mental double take: Spike rarely ever opposed her, and if he did, then usually for a very good reason.
“Oh, fine.” She conceded. “It might be nice to get out again for a change, I really haven't been doing that enough for a while. And maybe a change of scenery might help get my creative juices flowing.”
Her husband nodded, smiling, before releasing her from his embrace and moving to leave her design room.
“Wear something nice.” He requested with a wink as he ducked out the door.
While real estate in Canterlot was ludicrously expensive, Rarity's fortune as owner of an immensely successful fashion company allowed her to afford the luxury of two separate dressing rooms for her and Spike. Not only did this enable the pair to prepare for a night in town without stepping onto each other's toes, but the brief separation also gave Rarity a chance to pleasantly surprise Spike with whatever outfit she chose for their date. Her walk-in wardrobe was actually the largest room in their house, yet still barely able to contain the multitude of dresses Rarity had accumulated despite almost constantly giving some away as gifts.
The white unicorn stood pondering in front of her huge shoe cabinet, trying to pick the perfect choice of footwear to go with the evening dress she had selected. She had spent almost two hours getting ready for their dinner date, from combing her hair just the way she liked it, spending copious amounts of time on getting her make up perfect to choosing a dress and accessories. She was wearing a backless side-slit evening gown of deep burgundy with a low-cut cleavage, and a lacy, see-through brassiere and thong underneath. A black choker, black silk gloves and nylon stockings fastened to a garter-belt completed the ensemble. Her jewellery selection for the evening consisted of a golden butterfly with multicoloured gems inset in the wings in her hair, simple and small diamond ear-rings, a thin silver bracelet with three blue sapphires and a pure silver collier … and her wedding ring, of course. For footwear she was having a hard time deciding between bright lacquered red high heels or black shoes – also high-heeled – which consisted mostly of thin strings forming a criss-cross pattern over her feet. Ultimately she decided to go with the latter: they showed off more of her perfectly manicured feet, and while the bright red would have contrasted interestingly with the dark burgundy, it might have drawn attention too far down.
Finally finished, the renown beauty exited her dressing room and moved to the living room, where, as expected, her husband was already waiting, sitting in a chair, reading. As the fashionista entered, Spike looked up from his book and gave an appreciative whistle, to which Rarity responded by twirling on the spot, giving her lover a nice view from all angles.
“What ever did I do to deserve such beauty?” The young dragon asked as he rose, straightening out his clothing.
“You are quite a feast for the eyes, yourself, Darling.” Rarity replied, a smile brightening her face. Spike had thrown on a black tuxedo with a bright red tie, and she could tell he had waxed his crest and ear-frills to make them look extra shiny. The suit was tailor made and accentuated his broad shoulders and chest while also helping to bring out his smaller waistline. And of course he carried – not a real surprise to Rarity – a bouquet of bright red roses interspersed with white baby's breath to break up the monotony.
Very often the fashionista overheard some of her employees complaining how their spouses lost interest and started to cease investing into their relationship, no longer doing their best to woo their partner but rather often even forgetting things like anniversaries or birthdays. No chance of such a thing happening with Spike: every day anew he did all in his power to make Rarity feel valued, loved and appreciated. It didn't take a special date for him to take her out to a fancy and expensive restaurant, merely a hint dropped that she was feeling a tad down.
“Shall we?” the handsome dragon asked, handing her the bouquet and holding out his arm for her.
“We shall.” Rarity responded, taking hold of the arm and taking a deep breath of the roses' scent.
Together the pair paraded from their home to the renown restaurant, drawing a number of gazes and whispers in their wake. While the Canterlot regulars were already used to them walking by, a large metropolis like that had enough people passing through that almost always someone stopped to ask: “Is this really the Rarity, owner of the fashion line and Element of Generosity?” Rarity recognized it as a way to make conversation: what other white unicorn with a curled purple mane would stride through Canterlot on the arm of the most handsome dragon in town? In her youth such a pairing would have been considered impossible, even a marriage between a unicorn and an earth pony bordered on scandalous, but these days more and more interspecies relationships popped up. Of course part of it was Twilight's School of Friendship, but Rarity liked to think that at least some was also the example she set in marrying Spike.
Not surprisingly there was already a line of guests waiting at Rousseau's: many who came to Canterlot for the first time wanted to eat in the famous restaurant, but did not know that usually you had to make a reservation several days in advance. Rarity and Spike politely moved to the end of the line, but were quickly ushered forward by the maitre'd, once again whispers of recognition being exchanged by the other waiting guests.
The restaurant itself was kept in warm tones of brown and red, their table illuminated by a single, albeit large, candle. A small group of musicians provided a pleasant backdrop of classical pieces to enjoy during the experience.
It did not take long for them to get their menus, and they conversed amicably about the appeal of different dishes. A short while later a cute young pegasus waitress came to take their orders.
“For the Lady a golden consume as appetizer, then the trout in lemon sauce and a black forest cake as desert, and I'll have panini with tomatoes and mortadella, veggie wraps with a side dish of emeralds for the main course and a sacher cake to finish. As for drinks, a … '67 Chardonnay?” He looked at Rarity questioningly, who responded with an almost imperceptible nod. Spike had never really gotten into enjoying wine as much as his unicorn lover did, but he had learned his wife's preferences, even if he himself often had trouble telling different wines apart.
The pegasus waitress leaned forward, licking her lips as she tried to gather the young dragon's attention: “Can I get you … anything else?”
“Oh, no, thank you.” Spike responded politely, still looking over the menu. “I wouldn't want to gain weight.”
Rarity almost burst out laughing as the young pegasus mare retreated in defeat after having tried to shamelessly flirt with the famous dragon right in front of his wife. Spike looked up from the menu somewhat confused as he had just about missed the entire spectacle: “What?”
“Nothing, Darling.” Rarity replied, still suppressing a giggling fit. “Just please always stay as you are.”
It wasn't exactly a rare occurrence. As word spread how Spike saved the Crystal Kingdom and of his other heroic deeds, both minor and major, he became more and more famous and thus sought after. That he was polite, intelligent, took great care of himself and was quite muscular – he had built up quite the stature carrying stacks of books for Twilight that were almost as tall as he was when he was but a tiny dragon – didn't hurt his popularity with the mares, and even some stallions as Rarity had heard. Of course Rarity herself also often received compliments from customers which more closely bordered on illicit suggestions. At some events she practically clung to Spike's arm to ward off the sometimes really rather overenthusiastic suitors. When she accompanied her draconic lover to the Power Pony Convention as a favour to him, wearing a custom created cosplay outfit (which was a major sacrifice she made for Spike – not even so much as the outfit was so riskily revealing, but rather because of the garish colour combinations that the original artist had somehow thought to be a good idea) Spike almost had to become violent to shoo away the fans.
Her husband generally didn't understand that a mare was gunning for him unless Rarity spelled it out for him in bold font: in his mind he was already completely bound to his lover, and doing anything against her will was utterly unthinkable to him. He did recognize the advances especially some of the richer nobles made on Rarity, but showed little reaction: he trusted his wife completely, and to him it was only natural that a beautiful, intelligent and successful mare like Rarity would attract suitors in droves, even though she was already married.
Rarity listened to Spike telling her about the book he was currently reading – a fictional story about tool using apes who had advanced their civilization far enough to travel the void between the stars – while simultaneously taking the time to look around the room. The fashionista's husband had matured splendidly, but occasionally still displayed a childish fascination for the fictional that Rarity found most endearing.
To no surprise the purple-maned unicorn found a large percentage of the other guests either stealing glances or staring openly at them. Over the years she had to get used to attracting an immense amount of attention wherever she went – even her specially designed disguise outfits somehow hadn't really helped in that matter. While occasionally Rarity would have preferred more privacy, most of the time she appreciated the attention she was getting, using every opportunity to help other ponies and advance the cause of beauty in the world.
As a slight surprise she spotted Fleur de Lis and Fancypants at another table – while the finest restaurant in Canterlot was naturally the place for them to go, Rarity knew that the two of them usually preferred to dine at home, enjoying the meals of their own, quite capable, kitchen chef. Oftentimes Rarity ate at home as well, her meals usually expertly prepared by Spike, who, while not a certified chef, was a better cook than her, as the unicorn had to admit, and while his range of recipes wasn't as broad as a trained cook's, Rarity usually found his dishes delicious. But at least as often she almost had to eat out: business dinners, social obligations, galas, soirees, concerts, … After an eventful week she was often glad to be able to spend a quiet day at home with just her husband.
Their dishes were brought by a different waiter, a strapping earth pony stallion who winked at Rarity as he set the tables down, something she chose to bluntly ignore. At least this one had had enough sense to flirt with her in a way that was not immediately obvious to Spike.
The food was everything the restaurant promised: the soup creamy, the trout almost melting on her tongue. As the alabaster unicorn was approaching desert, there was a slight bustle at the stage where the small ensemble played classical pieces. To Rarity's great surprise Octavia entered the stage, took out her instrument and started playing. For a famous concert soloist to perform as side music even at a renown restaurant like Rousseau's was most unusual. Rarity threw a suspicious glance at Spike, and could immediately make him out as the culprit.
Knowing that denial was in vain at this point, the younger dragon explained: “I wanted to do something nice for you tonight, and I know how you do enjoy her style. It was really short notice, so she didn't know if she'd make it … I'm glad she could come at the end, even if it was a tiny bit late.”
Rarity felt her heart melt at this show of appreciation and kindness. As the expertly played notes started to float to her ears, the unicorn thought that, just for tonight, the world was all right. She leaned back and enjoyed the combination of the creamy sweetness of her cake and the languid beauty of the drawn out notes of a serenade from a long bygone age. And all of this because of the love and devotion of her wonderful husband. If not for him, she would still sit at home, desperately trying to come up with new designs but probably still falling short, rather than opening up her mind to this artistic combination of sound and flavour.
Maybe Rarity was the tiniest bit tipsy from the excellent wine that she had had several glasses of. Maybe it was that the darkened atmosphere of the restaurant gave it a special sense of privacy. Maybe it was the almost frivolous flirting their waiter and waitress had engaged in. Or maybe Rarity was just a little adventurous by nature. Either way, the beautiful mare felt she wanted to give back a little to her wonderful husband who went to such lengths to make her feel loved and appreciated. Underneath the desk, she silently slipped out of one of her shoes, then used her naked foot to caress the inside of Spike's leg. Her husband's shocked, almost scared expression brought a wide, slightly malicious grin to the beautiful unicorn's face. Shooting him a look of mock innocence from beneath her purple curls, she let her foot travel higher, her caresses growing bolder. While there was almost no chance of them getting caught with how dark and cozy the restaurant was, the thrill of doing something naughty and forbidden lit a fire in Rarity's loins. She relished the power to make her huge, muscular husband, someone who had faced down monsters and old gods, helpless and scared with but a few gentle caresses of her foot. She could see him swallow and fidget as her foot slowly crept higher, and she was certain he would have been sweating bullets had he been capable of doing so.
With a slight look of desperation in his eyes, Spike raised his hand and called: “Check, please!” almost leading to a laughing fit from his wife.
Once outside the restaurant, Rarity found it most pleasant to have her large, muscular husband to lean on. She was more than a little bit tipsy, and in the cool night breeze the comfortable warmth that Spike was radiating was extremely welcome. Careful and gentle the dragon spread his large wings, and tucked his wife beneath one of them. Rarity loved the feeling of being surrounded by Spike on all sides, shielded from the world by his gentle, caring presence. She deeply inhaled his scent: the fragrance of the spicy perfume he used with just the tiniest hint of his personal odour that remained.
While the cobblestone pavement of Canterlot wasn't exactly easy to navigate wearing high heels, Rarity was an accomplished dancer and even a tiny bit tipsy she managed to get home without getting one of her shoes stuck in the crevices between the stones. As the door of their home closed behind them, Rarity was at least as drunk on the smell of her husband as she was from the white wine she had had.
“Finally home!” she exclaimed, quickly kicking off her shoes.
“Finally …” her lover agreed, but found himself cut short as the purple-haired unicorn drew him into a deep, long kiss. Hungrily, eagerly, she all but ripped his shirt open so she could run her fingers over his toned muscles, delighting in their tightness and definition. Spike responded with all the pent up desire of the evening, though Rarity could tell he was still holding back, scared of hurting her with his superiour strength. All that power, tempered by gentleness, love and devotion … It just drove Rarity wild. Hiking her slit dress up to her hips she hopped up to wrap her legs around Spike's waist, knowing full well he could carry her weight easily. She rubbed her breasts against his naked chest, knowing he delighted in her femininity, and could feel something hot and hard press against her groin, responding to her hunger.
Continuing their languid kisses, Spike carried his wife over to one of the sofas and gently set her down so he could move more freely during their lovemaking. The huge dragon's caresses travelled downwards to kiss her neck, while he continued to press his muscled stomach between the unicorn's thighs. Rarity moaned lustfully, opening herself up to him, allowing him to fully explore her with tongue and lips and teeth. She let her own hands wander over his head, guiding him towards the most pleasurable areas, feeling his wonderful scales under her fingers, which, while individually hard, woven together felt like silk …
Rarity's eyes shot open. “That's it!” She yelled.
“Whuh?” Spike's reply as he looked up at her was less than refined.
“Oh my wonderful Darling, that's it! You just saved the Grand Galloping Gala! Scales! The secret is scales!” In her mind she could already see it: bold, large plates for the more horizontally generous ladies, exquisitely expensive dresses made from hundreds of interwoven tiny pieces that flowed like water in the moonlight, evening gowns with slightly larger scales of silver resembling armour of old, …
“I need something to draw!” The fashionista exclaimed, pushing Spike off her to go look for designing supplies.
With a sigh, Spike reached behind the sofa and pulled out a notepad and a pencil, which he handed to Rarity.
“Oh, thanks!” The unicorn exclaimed, starting to sketch down ideas immediately. After a few seconds she looked up from the notepad to her lover questioningly: “Wait … how did you … ?” She gestured to the items she held to explain her unfinished question.
“How many years have we been married, Rarity?” Spike asked calmly. “I hid a notepad and a pencil in every room of the house.” The dragon explained.
“You're the best!” Rarity exclaimed, briefly dropping the notepad to give her husband a big smooch on the lips, but then immediately returned to jot down the multitude of designs that were currently flooding her mind.
Spike sighed and laid down on the sofa, unobtrusively caressing his love's thigh. He would not fall asleep being embraced tonight, but to him it was all worth it to see the elated euphoria on his wife's face as she lived out her life's passion for design.
