A Request [3/5]

She hadn’t meant to overhear.

As a matter of fact, she wished with every fiber of her being, mind and soul that she hadn’t overheard because she’d still be blissfully unaware of the meaning of misery. It was like their words were some sort of lethal poison, not meant to kill the victim, but seep into their very being and bring neverending pain.

“How about that young duke?” had said Rarity’s father in perfect flawless French; perfect French Twilight understood because she’d spent months now, night after night, learning the language while immersed in the… in the stupid, foolish idea that she actually had a chance at ending up with Rarity.

“Oh, yes! He’s so charming! He’ll make a fine husband for our little princess,” Rarity’s mother had exclaimed, the enthusiasm dripping from her words only sinking Twilight into the despair she had not been ready to experience.

It had been her luck that they had seen her, too. Had been her wonderful luck that they’d joyfully asked her to come sit with them, and she’d done like they asked because that was expected of her. She was, after all…

“So lovely during our stay here, Princess Twilight!” Rarity’s mother had praised, receiving the most convincing smile Twilight could bring herself to make. She remembered briefly a rather nasty encounter with a duke, and how Rarity herself had told Twilight to “smile past it, my darling”.

Smile past it indeed.

Rarity’s father cleared his throat, his imposing demeanor not softened by his smile. “Princess Twilight, you are acquaintances with the Duke of Saddle Arabia, are you not? Dis-moi, what’s he like?”

It was true Twilight had seen better days. She had noticed mares and stallions around the castle giving her odd looks, and some of the maids had been bold enough to ask if something was wrong.

“No, just tired,” Twilight would reply, almost mechanically, wishing she could say yes. Yes because she’d been forced to sit for an hour with her… what she had once hoped would be her in-laws, telling them all about how wonderful the duke was.

She didn’t know what was worse. That he actually was a charming, polite stallion, or that she hadn’t been able to lie about it. The more she thought about it, the more her own brain came up with reasons why Rarity should be with him, not with her.

Marrying into Saddle Arabian royalty would be a benefit to their — and by extension Rarity’s — kingdom, whereas marrying Twilight would only make an already existing alliance stronger. A duke from Saddle Arabia could offer Rarity riches like she’d never seen, wonders like she’d never had, and… and Twilight could only offer a castle, and books, and an affection so deep she was sure it would probably last a lifetime and beyond that.

But, to her dismay, love was not something that gained political favors or alliances, was it?

Lunchtime came too soon, and she found she was not the least bit hungry. A plate filled with delicacies some ponies could only dream of was placed in front of her, and she only stared at it, occasionally poking at her with a fork.

Rarity would object, wouldn’t she?

But what if she didn’t? What if, like her parents, the political status of her kingdom was her priority? Twilight was too afraid to find out.

A polite cough caught her attention. It was a cough she recognized quite well, considering it was their means of catching each other’s attention back when language was a considerable barrier. Twilight smiled, a reflex, but it soon vanished and she forced herself to not look up. She wondered if Rarity was upset Twilight had seated herself between two other mares.

A second cough, louder now, followed by somepony whispering her name. Oh Celestia, curse her and her accent and how whispering Twilight’s name was enough to melt the unicorn. With a rudeness she was certain would offend Rarity, Twilight turned around to talk with the mare next to her, ignoring Rarity and her third, fourth, fifth, and even sixth cough.

Please stop, Twilight had thought, and yet when Rarity did, it felt like the dagger already plunged in Twilight’s heart only twisted deeper.

And so one, two, three, four, five, six days passed in which Twilight avoided the increasingly irritated unicorn. Avoided her at meals by talking extensively about politics she didn’t care about with ponies she didn’t even like. Buried herself in the books of her private library, locking the doors she usually kept open at all times. Did everything to avoid her, everything, everything, everything.

It was on the fifth day that they met for a moment. Stepping into the public library, she saw Rarity waiting by a table, pretending to be interested with a book. She could tell Rarity wasn’t even reading because she’d taken the care to notice Rarity’s ears always flopped down when she read. Stupid, silly details Twilight had noticed, had become endeared to, and now wished she’d never noticed in the first place.

Rarity had looked up, their eyes had met, and two paths presented themselves. Twilight could smile, trot over, make-up an excuse for all her disappearances, and then excuse herself. She could also turn around and trot away, making it clear to Rarity that something was wrong. The first one was the most reasonable and mature, the second one…

The second one would fulfil Twilight’s now hopeless desire that Rarity would come looking for her, ask what’s wrong, and wash away all of Twilight’s fears with words of love and affection and devotion.

She noticed Rarity getting up.

In reply, she turned around and trotted away.

Seven, eight, nine, ten days passed, and Rarity had yet to look for Twilight again. There were no more coughs at meals, no more loudly asking the guards stationed outside Twilight’s room if the ‘Princess was in’, no more nothing.

The more time passed, the more doomed did Twilight’s theories become. She concluded in the end that Rarity must have received news of her parents’s desire, and seeing as Twilight apparently was not interested anymore, she must have said yes.

In the back of her mind, some terrible part of her wished she could declare war on Saddle Arabia.

With a frustrated sigh, she placed the book she’d failed to read back on her nightstand and curled back on her bed, contenting herself with staring at her wall. A soft meowing filled her ears, and a cat jumped onto the bed, purring and curling besides her.

“Hey, Crépe,” she softly said, scratching behind its ears. “Guess it’s just you and me.”

She vaguely heard voices beyond her door and remembered she hadn’t instructed the guards to keep ponies out. Not that it mattered, anyway, since it was clear she wouldn’t be receiving visits anymore.

The voices silenced and instead there were two knocks at the door. Twilight did not reply initially, knowing that if three quick knocks followed… She held her breath, closed her eyes, and waited. Three more quick knocks arrived, and the door opened before she could answer. She didn’t dare look back, curling up even more against her kitten — their kitten — and waiting for a voice.

But the voice never arrived.

She heard hoofsteps instead, coming closer and closer until the weight from the mattress shifted, and a foreleg wrapped itself around her. Twilight let out a long breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding when Rarity gently nuzzled her, saying with gestures much more than she could say with words.

“What do you think of the Duke of Saddle Arabia?” Twilight asked before the question even registered in her mind or asked permission to be said.

“He’s a bit of a bore, isn’t he?” she replied, not bothering with English and instead stretching out to cuddle more of Twilight, briefly petting Crépuscule. She let out a long sigh before asking, “Why do you ask?”

Silence.

“My parents are quite taken by him,” Rarity continued, seemingly nonplussed by Twilight’s silence. “They think he’s quite the catch.”

Silence again until Twilight asked, “And you?”

“Well, as I said, he’s a bit of a bore,” she replied again. “They invited me to lunch a few days ago to talk about him.”

Twilight felt herself stiffen up, an involuntary reaction she hated. It was only soothed when Rarity left a trail of kisses down her neck before she continued with her story.

“They had the magnificent idea of proposing he and I should be wed,” she said with utter nonchalance, as if she were talking about the weather. “Apparently, when they consulted with you, you seemed to have nothing but glowing praise for him.”

Tears made their way into Twilight’s eyes, and though every inch of her body begged for her to turn around and bury herself in Rarity before she left, she valiantly held her position.

“Twilight.” Rarity’s voice was gentle, soothing, concerned and most of all loving. “Is that why you have been avoiding me?”

That was all it took.

In a flash, Twilight turned around and buried herself in her beloved’s chest, the entire story coming out in muffled sniffles. Rarity listened quietly, holding the lavender mare closely and using her hoof to brush Twilight’s mane. When she finished her teary confession, Twilight felt as if a weight had been lifted off her chest. Once she felt brave enough, she looked up, expecting to find Rarity staring at her gravely, but instead…

Rarity was giggling.

“W-What?” Twilight asked, feeling her cheeks redden considerably. Her flush only grew stronger when Rarity just kept giggling, sporting what could only be described as a very silly, smitten grin.

But, just like that, it vanished and was replaced by a rather serious expression. “I’m afraid I have bad news, Twilight,” she said gravely, her sombre expression cracking slightly when Twilight’s ears fell. Before she could throw herself back into despair, however, Rarity continued, “It seems you are stuck with me until further notice.”

It took a moment for Twilight to register, but when she did, she practically toppled Rarity over when she threw herself at her, giggling out of relief. “Couldn’t you have told me that in the first place?” she asked, finding immense joy in the kisses Rarity was now subjecting her to.

“I just like keeping you in suspense, ma chère,” Rarity giggled, now finding herself the victim to Twilight’s kisses. “Especially when you get so terribly upset over such silly ideas.”

And maybe they were silly. Maybe the entire idea that Rarity would ever let her parents dictate her life was silly, but Twilight couldn’t help but worry about everything when it came to her.

“I know,” Twilight said, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead against the unicorn’s, smiling when the latter giggled again. Throughout her relationship with Rarity, she’d learned to carefully select her words. But now, now they finally came naturally, without having to overthink. “I just don’t want you to leave,” she said, both an excuse for her behaviour and a confession.

Rarity was quiet for a moment, enough to almost make Twilight wonder if she’d spoken her feelings to soon. Her fears vanished when Rarity sighed and kissed her. “Never.”