Beauty Like Yours Is A Rarity

It's dark. There's little light born of the moon, and this deep in the castle, it's almost nonexistant. But the shadows and darkness that creep the halls are left to the edges of this room, as a single candelabra burns above. This close to Equus, most of the rooms were granted some level of an atmosphere.

Silently, her ethereal, sparkling mane twisting in an invisible wind, Nightmare Rarity stands at the foot of her elaborate bed. It's a grand, luxurious, alien thing that once homed the Princess of the Moon, just as this whole castle did -- though the Nightmares have been most proactive in altering its form for Rarity's unique tastes. Still, however, the objectively... 'off' feeling couldn't be escaped. The Obelisks that served as pillars, the flat walls and floor that seemed far too smooth, lacking any true texture or detail.

She stares down at the mess of luxuriant, plush sheets and pillows strewn about its bedding. The nightmares whisper to her, trying for her attention, but it falls upon deaf ears. The bed itself, however, brought her no comfort. Little did, now, but the ones actually using the bed for its intended purpose. Sprawled on his back is Anon, still dressed, with his hat pushed down over his eyes, dressed in that ever so familiar, but equally so garish garb. Tucked into the nook of his arm is Sweetie Belle, hooves idly kicking the air as she dreams, knickering in her sleep.

Her eyes slowly drift to the mirror that sits in the corner of the room, one of the few furnished pieces that made up her room. Like the dresser, the bed, the desk, it was all lavish and well-crafted, formed from the nightmares mists, nestled atop gorgeous carpets and tucked alongside elaborate tapestries depicting her, and the moons, images.

She sees her own altered form. No longer the beautiful, a smidgen on the short side, 'curvy' self she'd considered herself to be for years. Convinced herself, even. Now only a skull barring its teeth, her form tall, like the Princess -- but far from her beauty. The cracks that formed across her face, telling her of just how untrue she was. The bone-like merging of her flesh, with the sharpened daggers she could consider her teeth jutting out past her lips.

She was a monster. A Nightmare, fittingly. And not even the preferred one. Every tapestry that depicted her, every pot, every painting... it showed the Moon. The one that the Nightmares truly wanted back, no matter how much they tried to convince her otherwise with their pleasing, their pleading, their bargains, their whispers.

A slow, rattling sigh escapes her powerful form as a tired gaze falls upon the bed oncemore.

"...Anon." The ethereal, whisping voice of Nightmare Rarity says quietly. Too quiet to wake him, she speaks more to herself than to him.
"Am I beautiful?"

It's little more than a mutter, a soft, pained whisper that asks a question she's already given herself the answer to. An answer shown bluntly to her in every reflection, in every depiction.

"...Do you love me?" She asks even quieter, now. Hardly a noise escapes her otherworldly self.

She's about to turn, to leave the room, when she hears a shuffling on the bed.

Anon stirs, pushing the hat up off his face, rubbing at his eyes.

"You say something, Rarity?" He asks, stifling a yawn.

"...Apologies." She states, her expression flat, no hint of her prior moment visible on her face. "I presumed you were asleep."

"Not quite, but almost there. I was waiting for Sweetie to conk out first." Anon explains, groaning as he props himself up with an elbow, trying to sit up without disturbing the sleeping filly.
"Is everything alright?"

"...I suppose." She responds simply. In truth, she hadn't been looking for an answer. The nightmares urge her to silence his insolence, but there is no need for that.

"Doesn't sound like a yes to me." Anon presses, giving her a playful frown.

"Is it not?"

"From her most Magnanimous, Moonlit Magnificence? No, not really." Anon jests, wiggling a finger at her. "You're a little more verbose than that."

"..."

"Here." He pats the bed beside himself, carefully scooting Sweetie over. No reaction from the tired little one; revent events have been very... exciting, and rest was well overdue. She clings to the closest pillow, nestling against it.

"You're asking to share a bed with me?" She asks bluntly, tilting her head.

"Well, more asking you to come sit, but it's hardly the worst thing we've done on the bed before." He snorts, grinning.

Nightmare Rarity is silent, staring at him. The nightmares have little to offer but confusion.

Slowly, she steps around the massive bed; the tentative nature of her steps are strange for a creature of her glamorous design, as she climbs onto the bed, laying atop it, beside him. Hooves folded in, even as they sit, her head now easily holds over his.

She watches as he stares up at her, far closer now. Still, all he offers is that dumb smile.

"So? What were you saying earlier? Or were you talking to the shadows again?" Anon prompts, shifting in place to comfortably face her.

Something the nightmares don't appreciate. They're not particularly fond of him, in their whispers. They often recommend removing him, promptly, from the closest window. Even now, Nightmare Rarity watches the edge of the bed, as a thin, bold shadow creeps up it, towards them.

"Oh, get out of here." Anon mumbles, reaching for his phone. He taps it a few times, before a bright flash suddenly emits from its edge, bathing the edge of the bed in light. The shadows recoil, the nightmares in her ears hissing in displeasure as they retreat momentarily.

"That doesn't bother you, does it?" He asks to Rarity, concerned.

"Mm? No, it does not. It displeased them, for certain. They do not like you very much." Nightmare Rarity politely informs, watching the shadows retreat to the nearest crack, crevice, or underside of the bed.

"Well, sucks for them, then." Anon scoffs, tucking his phone back into his pocket.

"You're... handling the shift in our situation well." She comments, looking back to Anon. He glances up, confused.

"Oh, the whole moon thing? Yeah, it's... something, but as long as you're happy, you know." Anon shrugs. "Sweetie thinks it's pretty cool, too."

"I would've thought you'd be more... upset." Nightmare Rarity comments.

"What for?" Anon asks, confused.

"What I've had to do to our friends, since they weren't as... understanding, as you or Belle." Nightmare Rarity clarifies coldly.

"You guys'll figure all that out. Weird stuff happens all the time. Remember when Fluttershy became a vampire thing? With the fangs and the apple-fever?" Anon asks while dangling his fingers in front of his mouth, poorly mimicking a vampire.

Nightmare Rarity tsks. She might not be very appreciative of the comparison, her glorious self to a feral apple-hoarding creature.

"Well, nobody gave up on her then, right? And she didn't go down easily. Hell, she still eats like... twice the apples than she used to, even when she got turned back." Anon continues, unabated.

"So you're saying when they get the chance to fix me, this will all blow over?" Rarity begins, her tone droll and ill appeased, a furrow in her brow forming. The nightmares are quick to come crawling back, eager to whisper slandering in her ears.

"That no matter what happens, or what plays out, I'm here to support you." Anon clarifies, poking her nose with a finger, smiling at her.

That seems to... well, reset her, in a sense. She blinks several times, the eager nightmares deflating as they realize their missed opportunity.

"Even as I am?" Nightmare Rarity mutters.

"Duh." Anon scoffs.

"...Still?"

"Yeah?"

"...Even beholden to a form such as this?"

"Yep. It's pretty cool, honestly."

"...Why?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"But I'm..."

"The prettiest mare in Equestria? Yeah, I'm well aware."

"..." Nightmare Rarity is silent, as the intrepid whispers grow.

"Well, might be the prettiest mare in or above Equestria, now. Or does being on the moon make it Equus? Honestly, the exacts are escaping me."

"Your empty flattery isn't doing much, here." Nightmare Rarity suddenly growls.

"Ah-ah. Hold on, grumpy." Anon tsks, before holding his phone up to her. Another flash of like that makes her squint -- and the whispers quiet, the shadows that had been creeping up her sides escaping again. She hadn't even noticed.

"Sorry, but I think they like to creep up on you. You should really get some lamps and stuff around here for them." Anon jokes, watching as Rarity rises, scowling at the darkness that edges the room.

The room seems to... lighten, as they back off, inching away from her fury before she returns to laying beside him again.
"They enjoy forgetting their place." She growls outwardly, before her face softens as she faces Anon again.

"Still getting used to... being so tall?" Anon jokes, alluding to the larger changes.

"It is... odd." Nightmare Rarity sighs. "It's like... a step towards what I desire, but..."

Anon leans back against the bed, thumping into the plush sheets and sinking in. Rarity watches him, head tilted curiously. He pats his chest, before holding his arms out.

She leans down, chuffing at him and blowing his hair back, holding her nose close to his face. She's careful of her horn, larger than she's used to.
"The offer is sweet, but I cannot. I have... things yet to do."

"Can't even spare a few minutes? It's just a big, empty bed without you." Anon says back, his hand slowly brushing over the side of her face. There's no hesitation towards her appearance, as his thumb brushes one of the larger teeth.

"...Perhaps a few moments." Rarity sighs, fully lifting herself onto the bed. Her hooves dig into the mattress, her increased size adding a surprising weight as she gets closer, that pulls Anon against her as she settles. With Sweetie nested beside them, still snoring, unaware of any of her surroundings.

Rarity's surprisingly cold to the touch, where even her barrel doesn't offer much warmth against Anon's side. Taking offense to this, Anon leans up to start pulling a blanket over her, draping it across her back.

"What are you doing?" She questions, watching.

"You're cold." Anon retorts simply, tucking the edges under her.

"..." She looks like she's about to say something, but just watches his hands, before they rest against her face, brushing her gently.

Slumped back, Anon just... pets her. Strokes her mane, fingers brushing through her fur. Eventually, Rarity lowers her head to rest it against his chest, watching his face.

"You look like you want to ask me something." Anon whispers, planting a small kiss on her nose. Or, where he can, considering her new visage.

"...No. I believe I know the answer." She sighs, leaning into him.