Snapshots

I.

The first time was a mistake—or a blessing, depending how you looked at it.

Peering through her library’s window, Twilight’s horrified eyes tracked the dozens of raindrops smashing against the glass and then sliding down into the muddy ground. To say it was raining would be a generous description. A truly apt one would be to say it was pouring waterfalls.

“Oh, Rarity,” said Twilight, apologetically turning to her friend of just three months. She’d invited her over to learn about her gemstone-tracking spell, and it seemed that both the time and the weather had drastically gotten away from them. “I’m sorry! I really didn’t think we’d take that long!”

Rarity raised an eyebrow. “If only we hadn’t gotten distracted reading all three hundred and fifty pages of my geology book, rather than just the ten pages dedicated to the spell.”

“But we learned so much!” Twilight protested, and then quickly added, “Sorry… I know you had to get home early and… well… dry.”

A soft whine left Rarity’s lips. “Isn’t there something you can do?” She moved towards the window and pressed her muzzle against the glass, glaring at the stormclouds. “Can’t you, I don’t know, use your magic to clear the weather?”

“No,” she replied. “Only pegasi can do that.”

Rarity whined again. “Honestly, what is Rainbow thinking? We’ve had three storms this week!” She glared at the clouds for another moment before turning to Twilight, a glint in her eyes. “What about sending a message to Princess Celestia asking her to use the sun to dry them out?”

“What? Rarity! I’m not going to bother the princess for that, even if the sun actually worked that way, which it doesn’t!”

Rarity turned back to the window. “Drat.”

Twilight watched her despairing friend for a minute until an idea popped into her head. Sure, her first attempt at a sleepover hadn’t really gone as smoothly as she’d hoped but a sleepover with one pony would surely be more manageable than one with two?

“Why don’t you stay the night?”

Rarity turned to her. “Stay over?” She bit down on her lip. “I don’t know… I’m still recovering from the last one.”

“It’ll be different this time!” Twilight promised. Her horn flashed and her book on sleepovers appeared before her, the pages quickly turning. “We’ll only do fifteen activities!”

Rarity politely cleared her throat.

“…Seven?”

Again, another polite clearing of throat.

“…One?”

“Five,” Rarity replied with a smile. She moved away from the window and grabbed her things from the coatrack. “I’ll leave these in the guest room, then.”

II.

“Rarity. It’s been a month since the gala.” Twilight looked up from her book and stared at the unicorn sitting on her couch, furiously sewing a shirt. She tried to be kind as she said, “You need to get over it!”

“Get over it?!” Rarity gasped, turning to Twilight. “He was an oaf! He should be stripped of his title of prince! He should be stripped of it and have it thrust far up his—”

“Rarity!”

“Far up his bloated ego! I was going to say his bloated ego!” Rarity shot back, going back to her dress. “As if that nincompoop would ever irritate me enough that I would lower myself to vulgar insults.”

Twilight giggled. “Uhm. Are you forgetting what happened at the farm’s cider fest?”

“…As if that nincompoop would ever irritate me enough that I would lower myself to vulgar insults while sober!” she corrected herself. “What a brute!”

“They’re all like that,” Twilight noted suddenly, and found herself the target of Rarity’s surprised stare. “What? It’s true! I grew up there, Rarity. I grew up living surrounded by them at the castle! They’re snobs.”

“You’re not a snob,” Rarity quickly pointed out, and though Twilight appreciated her friend’s rise to her defense, it wasn’t all that true.

“I was,” Twilight said, a light flush on her cheeks, nerves forcing her to look back to her book. It wasn’t that easy to confess to somepony you were prejudiced against them. “Don’t you remember when I met you girls? I thought you were… well…”

“Annoying and uneducated townsfolk for focusing on the celebrations and not your obsession with a prophecy?” Rarity teasingly completed, which only prompted Twilight’s blush to increase.

“Anyway,” Twilight said, “Canterlot ponies are snobs.”

“But you’re not really a snob, Twilight! Or, if you are, then Celestia knows what Blueblood is, because you’re a godsend compared to him!” Rarity petered out into a whine. “Stars, I wish Blueblood had been like you.”

Twilight giggled, “Really?”

“Yes! You’re one of the most educated and cultivated ponies this dreary town has ever seen—Well, besides me, but, regardless! You’re kind, resourceful, humble, and honestly, I don’t think enough ponies appreciate how sharp your wit is.”

“Rarity, I—”

“And don’t even get me started on your magical talent! In fact, you know what?” She looked up at Twilight and gestured at her with a needle. “You should be royalty, not him! Honestly! I’m sending Princess Celestia a formal letter of complaint tomorrow!”

“Sure you are,” Twilight said, playing along up until she noticed Rarity wasn’t smiling. “Rarity, don’t.”

“Fine, I won’t.” She let out a big sigh and looked around, her sights falling on the window and the navy blue sky outside. “Goodness, when did it get dark out?”

“Do you have to leave?”

“I should, yes, but…” She drifted off into a whine, and Twilight grinned.

“You’re not done complaining about Blue Blood?”

“Not at all. I simply wish I hadn’t wasted a lovely afternoon with you complaining about that oaf,” she lamented. “Shall we raincheck? Sometime this week, maybe?”

Twilight bit down on her lip. “This week might be complicated. I don’t have any free time scheduled.”

Rarity’s ears lowered. “Ah… Shall I schedule an appointment for next week, then?” Her lips curved into a teasing smirk. “Or, knowing you, next month?”

“No, no! I have time next week!” Twilight quickly said. She did have time next week, but… Well, truth be told, she didn’t want to wait until next week to see Rarity again. Maybe it was the fact that Rarity’s flatteries had worked their charm, or maybe it was her own excellent mood, but whatever it was, it willed her into doing the unthinkable: changing her schedule.

“I have a few slots available,” she continued, “but… do you just want to stay the night? I cleaned up the guest room yesterday, and Spike is making his nacho tofu surprise tonight.”

Rarity’s eyes lit up. “Stay the night? Ooooooh…” She tapped her hoof against her muzzle. “I suppose I could, yes! But… what about your schedule, dear? Didn’t you tell me you had a book to read tonight?”

“…We can have an early night and I’ll wake up early to read it?” she offered and her heart swelled when Rarity laughed with delight.

“Darling, dearest, sweetheart, Twilight Sparkle,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “How charming of you to think we’re getting any sleep tonight.”

III.

After that, Twilight realized, making space for Rarity in her schedule became progressively easier and easier.

The thought of it being a crush hadn’t even occurred to her. She just liked to spend time with Rarity, plain and simple. A mere consequence of being her friend and not the fact that Rarity could keep up with any topic of conversation thrown her way, or that Spike wholeheartedly approved of her, or that she was pretty, or that she was smart, or the many other things that Twilight loved about her.

Or the fact that she kept coming up with excuses to see her.

None of these things, she thought, pointed to her having a crush.

Or, at least, they didn’t until they shared two bottles of Chardonnay left over from a designer’s soiree.

How beautiful Rarity looked that night, Twilight thought, sitting opposite her on the couch, her mane mildly undone, and the stem of a cherry hanging from her parted lips as she served herself her fifth or sixth glass of wine.

“Pinkie Pie told me something interesting,” Twilight announced, quite coherent despite her three glasses of wine and generally low alcohol tolerance. She levitated one of the cherries from the cake resting on the nearby table and continued: “She said that being able to tie the stem of a cherry with your mouth means you’re a good kisser.”

It was just trivia. A tidbit of knowledge Twilight possessed so many of, and yet Rarity accepted it as a challenge, levitating the stem she’d earlier left on her plate and getting to work. How cute she looked, Twilight thought, watching Rarity furrow her brow as she concentrated on the unintended test she had been given. After a minute, Rarity smiled and stuck out her tongue to display the knotted cherry stem on it.

“My, my, my.” Rarity levitated her work of art and put it on top of her empty plate. Afterwards, she took her glass of wine, the liquid swooshing inside, and smirked at her friend. “Will you look at that.”

“It’s just a myth. It only means that you have good dexterity with your tongue muscles,” Twilight quickly informed, ignoring her racing heart in favor of taking a different cherry to her mouth and biting it off the stem. Maybe, if she managed to knot it too, then Rarity might…

Well. Anyway.

Rarity let out a haughty laugh at the remark. She then leaned in a little and said in an alluringly insolent way: “Darling, I don’t need a cherry stem to know that I am an exceptional kisser.”

“Right,” Twilight might have said was she not still trying to knot her stem, her face scrunched up in concentration. Instead, she said something that probably, maybe, sounded like it.

She also, incidentally, nearly choked when Rarity giggled, rested her chin on her forehoof, and sighed in a dreamy kind of way, “You are terribly cute, aren’t you?”

“I—what?” she asked, flustered, the stem of the cherry falling out her mouth. “Ah, no! Wait!” Once she picked it up from the table and ascertained it to still be in a knottable state, she put it back in her mouth and returned her attention to Rarity. “Sorry, what?”

“Struggling with that stem, are we?”

“No. Maybe. Yes. Also that’s not what you said.”

Rarity hummed. “Oh? I suppose asking if you needed me to teach you how to knot the stem wasn’t what I said either, was it?”

Twilight frowned, forgetting for a moment her source of shock. “You can teach me how to do that?”

Rarity nodded, sipping from her wine. “Oh, yes. It’s frightfully easy.” A twinkle shone in her eyes and she levitated the wine away so as to clap excitedly. “Shall we try?”

“I…” Twilight sucked on the stem inside her mouth. “But, we don’t have any extra cherries.”

“That’s fine, dear,” Rarity said, patting the spot next to her on the couch. “We only need yours.” Once Twilight was sitting next to her, she cleared her throat. “Now, I need you to make sure the stem is lying flat on your tongue, perfectly straight and pointed towards me.”

“Like this?” Twilight attempted to say, opening her mouth and displaying the stem on her tongue.

“Like that, yes, splendid! Now, for the next step, you need to close your mouth and make sure half of the stem is sticking out of your mouth. Yes, like–No, no, still facing me, darling. There! Now hold it down with your lips, not your teeth.”

“Mm-hmm?” Twilight said, which was meant to be a “like this?” but circumstances made that difficult to voice.

Rarity cleared her throat. “Now, Twilight,” she said, “hold perfectly still.”

No sooner had she said that, she lifted a forehoof and pressed it against Twilight’s chest, her mean of support as she then leaned in very, very close. She completely ignored Twilight’s sharp intake of breath when their lips nearly brushed as she bit down on the other side of the stem.

She tugged on it lightly, beckoning the other side out of Twilight’s mouth, and then, without moving an inch from where she was, simply smiled at the flustered unicorn as she played with the stem inside her mouth.

After a minute, she leaned back, her hoof tracing its way from Twilight’s chest up to her chin, delicately closing Twilight’s half-open mouth just as she opened hers, sticking her tongue out and presenting a knotted stem.

“Voila,” she said, levitating it off her tongue and onto the nearby plate before turning to her shocked friend. “Well?” She leaned in again, ever so slightly. “What did you think of that?”

Twilight thought many things of that. Many, many, many heady things, several which made her heart race and her thoughts a mess. So, as expected, with her wits completely and utterly indisposed, she blurted out whatever logic and true fact first came to mind.

“Rarity, that taught me nothing about knotting cherry stems.”

She expected Rarity to be upset. She expected her to harrumph, look away and dramatically declare Twilight knew nothing about anything, anyway.

But instead, the unicorn’s eyes twinkled and a brilliant smile decorated her face as she proceeded to fall back onto the couch and giggle like the delighted, drunken, smitten filly she was.

“Wh…What?” Twilight asked, trying to ascertain whether this was good or bad or good or great or fantastic or Celestia knew what.

“You’re so shamelessly you, Twilight Sparkle,” Rarity said when she managed to compose herself, her statement followed by a dreamy sigh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, for a wild second thinking Rarity might kiss her when the unicorn sat up again and leaned in.

“It means,” Rarity said, “that unless we find more cherries so I can actually teach you to knot them, I should probably take my leave before the dreadful hangover that awaits me catches up.”

“Wait,” Twilight blurted out, almost panicked as she reached out to hold Rarity’s foreleg, trying to keep her in place. “I… Uhh… Pinkie baked another cherry cake with Spike a few days ago. Maybe she left some here? Maybe? The kitchen is a mess, though, so we’d have to look, but it’s late, but– ” She interrupted herself and voiced one of her favorite string of words: “Can you stay the night?”

“Can I stay the night?” Rarity asked, lifting her hoof to brush back Twilight’s bangs. “My darling, dearest, when have I ever said no?”

IV.

“Doesn’t it feel strange?”

“A little,” Twilight confessed, watching with interest as her marefriend examined her two new appendages, delicately rearranging the feathers with her hoof. “Be careful.”

“I am, I am,” Rarity insisted. When she finished her examination, she stepped back and looked Twilight up and down. “And are you taller? I swear this has made you taller—at least an inch.”

“I’m not taller,” Twilight giggled. “I think. I still haven’t run tests on myself to see the biological and telekinetic consequences of my ascension.”

Rarity hummed. “Well, I suppose this means you’ll never run out of feathers for your quills, will you”—She tilted her head and fluttered her eyelashes—”Princess Twilight. Will I have to bow to you every time I see you now?”

“No, silly. You’re my marefriend.”

Rarity nodded, looking quite serious. “Ah, yes, I see. So then, everypony else has to bow to you now?”

“Wha—No!” Twilight playfully rolled her eyes. “Nothing’s changed. I’m still me, and nopony has to bow to me, okay?”

Rather than reply, Rarity narrowed her eyes.

“…What?”

“I’m telling you you’re taller! Look!”

Without waiting for her, Rarity rushed out of the room, prompting Twilight to chase her down the library until she finally found her in front of the bathroom mirror, the unicorn gesturing for her to sit down next to her.

“Sit, Twilight! I’m telling you, you’ve grown taller!” she insisted, and when Twilight sat down beside her, and even Twilight herself noticed the inch that hadn’t been there before, Rarity exclaimed victoriously. “See! I knew it!”

“Oh,” she said. “Guess I did.”

Truthfully, standing there in front of the mirror reminded her that she still wasn’t, well, used to her… enhanced? Upgraded? Ascended body. It made her feel different, uncomfortable even, singled out in a way she hadn’t felt for a while. She’d spent so much of her time in Ponyville trying to fit in, and now the hope for that had been permanently washed away.

“This has been a weird month,” Twilight admitted.

“How so?”

She didn’t know whether Rarity was joking or not. “I confessed to you and became a princess in the same month.”

Rarity blinked. “And that’s weird how, exactly?”

“I don’t know,” Twilight replied. “It’s not weird, but… It’s…”

“It was expected, Twilight,” Rarity said, rather casually. “The only reason we’re not celebrating our fourth month anniversary is because we were having too much fun flirting and pining after each other, and as for your lovely crown, I’m sure the only pony who didn’t see this coming was you.”

A gentle warmth filled Twilight after this, willing a smile out of her. Her eyes drifted towards her new wings’ reflection, and a desire crept up her heart. Sure, they’d only been officially dating for less than a few weeks now, so boundaries were still being tested and explored, but…

Before she could overthink it, she opened her wing and carefully wrapped it around Rarity, biting down a grin when the latter closed her eyes and sighed contently. Thus, Twilight looked at their reflection in the mirror, this snapshot of what might possibly be a welcome recurring sight.

The moment was changed but not broken when Rarity yawned, a hoof covering her mouth as she snuggled closer to Twilight.

“Tired?”

“Somewhat, yes.” Her eyes fluttered open and rested on their reflections, seemingly admiring them just as Twilight had. After she’d stared enough, she finally detached herself from Twilight and stood up. “Time does fly when you’re having fun!”

“Do you have to leave?” Twilight asked, her hopes dashed when Rarity sighed theatrically.

“I should,” she said at length, playing with a lock of her mane. “I should. Probably. Maybe. Perhaps. Tentatively. Poss–“

“Did you need a thesaurus?”

“Perchance, unless you wish to spare me by asking me to stay the night.”

“Rarity,” Twilight asked, “would you like to stay the night?”

Rarity’s hoof went to her chest. “Why, darling! What a surprise!” She leaned in and kissed the tip of Twilight’s nose before trotting off. “I would love to!”

“Something wrong?” Twilight asked when she walked into the foyer and found Rarity staring intently at her saddlebags. “Did you forget to bring clothes?”

“No,” she said, at length. “It’s just…” She politely cleared her throat and smiled. “This is the first time I’m staying over since we’ve gotten together.”

“Yes,” Twilight said, helpfully. “…Is that a problem?”

“No, darling, but…” Rarity drifted off before clearing her throat, a pink tinge decorating her cheeks. “…Should I put these in the guest room?”

Oh.

“Oh.” Twilight swallowed, her own cheeks matching Rarity’s blush. “Uhm. Where do you want to put them?”

“I don’t know,” Rarity said. “Where do you want me to put them?”

“Wherever you want to put them.”

They both fell silent.

“Twilight,” Rarity said, eventually, “one of us has to say it.”

“No,” she replied. “No, we don’t.”

Instead, with a crack of magic, Rarity’s luggage disappeared from the foyer and landed somewhere upstairs with a thump.

“What?” Rarity looked up to the stairs. “Wait. Where did you put it?”

“Where do you think I put it?” she asked, and at Rarity’s stare, she answered the question herself. “I put it in the guest room.”

Rarity froze for a second. “Ah! Ah. Well. Well, that’s fine!” she said, taking it in stride, then making her way upstairs. “However! I should probably go make sure I didn’t forget anything, then! Better be safe than sorry and all that, you know?”

Twilight waited for about half a minute after Rarity had left before calling out, “Oh, no! I’m sorry! I meant I put them in the bedroom!”

No sooner had she done so, a grin pushed its way onto her lips at the sound of frantic hoofsteps rushing back towards her, and the sight of Rarity running down the stairs.

“Twilight Sparkle, I swear—”

Twilight blinked, innocently. “I’m sorry! I thought that’s where you wanted it? I could put in the guest bedroom, if you wa—”

“No! No, no, no. It’s there now, it’s fine,” she interrupted, joining Twilight downstairs. “Perfect, actually.”

“Perfect?”

Rarity nodded. “Yes, perfectly acceptable.”

“I see,” Twilight tried her best to stay serious. “Acceptable, then?”

“Yes. This is my fate, and I am accepting it.”

“So, so you could say we’re fated, then?” Twilight asked without missing a beat, and no sooner had she done so did Rarity dissolve into a fit of smitten giggles.

“Yes,” she said, enchanted. “Yes, we are.”

V.

It was strange to be there.

In those halls that seemed endless, the ceilings that felt sky-high, that castle where even nothingness echoed. It was all so big, bigger than her now crisped home had ever been, sometimes so much that everything inside it felt horribly small.

Except for Rarity.

When Rarity was there, it seemed to Twilight like an entire castle was too small for her marefriend.

“Twiliiiight,” she whined, a half-hearted complaint wrapped in affectionate laughter, the poor unicorn rushing down the stairs, escaping the grasp of her magical captor. “I can’t! I have to go!”

“But Rarity!” With a crackle of magic, Twilight apparated at the bottom of the stairs, impeding her marefriend’s escape when she whisked her in her magic. “We still have to finish organizing the books Mayor Mare and Princess Celestia donated!”

“Darling, dearest, that’s going to take us the entire night!” Rarity protested, looking down at Twilight while being held-upside down.

“So? It’s just one night!”

“You can’t keep saying that!” Rarity whined. “I’ve already stayed over five nights organizing the library just so you’ll wake up the next day and say you’ve changed your mind over what room you want them in! And put me down, please, before I’m sick.”

“Sorry,” said the princess, hiding a playful smile when she put the unicorn down and was regaled with a relieved, “Thank you.”

That said, Rarity let out a grand sigh and gave Twilight a Look.

“Twilight, dearest, I have work,” she said, kindly but determined. “You know that I have to finish the ensembles I promised Mrs. Cake for her foals.”

“I know,” Twilight relented, plastering the smile she’d been wearing since her home had been destroyed and a castle had replaced it. A smile that wasn’t trying to be fake, but certainly felt fake, just like her home that wasn’t trying to be fake, but certainly felt fake. “I was just…”

She drifted off, despite herself.

“Just being a silly pony,” Rarity finished in her stead, and when she leaned in to kiss her, Twilight did not protest the kiss nor the mistaken assumption.

When their lips finally parted, Twilight forced herself to talk. “I asked Spike to help take your suitcase downstairs before he left for his roleplaying game with Big Mac.”

“Oh, splendid!” Rarity exclaimed, missing Twilight’s lowering ears and spirit when she trotted past the alicorn further into the castle. “Thank you, dear.”

Just as said, Rarity’s suitcases sat by the two large crystal doors, all ready for her to take and leave. The doors swung open without so much as a sound, and Twilight wondered if it was silly of her to miss the creaking doors of Golden Oaks Library.

Even after everything her friends had done, their heartfelt attempt to bring back what was lost, the place still felt… still felt…

Well. Anyway.

“Do you need help?” she asked, her horn crackling and Rarity’s suitcases floating up into the air. “I can walk them home with you? It’s late.”

“Just to carry two suitcases? Goodness, don’t be ridiculous,” she said, her own magic intertwining with Twilight’s and relieving her of the luggage.

“Ridiculous?” Twilight laughed. “You do remember you’ve asked me to help you carry a basket to your house before, don’t you?”

“Well! Well, that may be so, but—!” Rarity cleared her throat, an embarrassed blush decorating her face. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be fine, dear.”

“I… All right,” Twilight relented. Her ears perked up when she asked, “Are you coming over tomorrow?”

In turn, Rarity’s ears lowered, her tail hiding itself between her hindlegs. “Ah… No, I’m not. I don’t think I’ll be able to drop by until maybe the weekend, in fact. It has been six days of work I’m behind on,” she explained before Twilight could try and protest.

“That’s fine,” Twilight said, wishing she’d had the foresight to have a workroom ready for Rarity. “I understand.”

Rarity exhaled a breath.

“Well then, I should leave.” She levitated her things, gave Twilight a goodbye kiss, and then stepped outside. However, rather than leaving, she threw the castle foyer one last look and turned to Twilight. “What will you do for the rest of the night?”

“I’m going to sit by the door after you leave and wait until you change your mind about not staying over.”

Rarity raised an eyebrow. “You’ll be waiting until morning, then?”

Twilight shrugged. “I guess so.”

“I see!” Rarity laughed, tapping Twilight’s nose with a hoof and then trotting away. “Better get yourself a pillow, your highness! A long night awaits you.”

As soon as Twilight closed the door, she teleported a floor cushion, a book and a magazine Rarity had left behind. After settling herself down on the pillow and debating on how long her wait would be, she sent the book back to the library, kept the fashion magazine and started to read.

Fashion magazines were not her usual choice of literature, but this one in particular had an extensive feature on the history of Saddle Arabian fabrics, which Twilight happened to know something about. She got so engrossed in her reading that she didn’t realize almost thirty minutes had passed by already, and had in fact almost completely forgotten about Rari–

“What?!”

Twilight looked up from her magazine and towards a garden window further away, barely missing Rarity quickly trying to duck out of view. Biting down a grin, she quickly got up and teleported the pillow and magazine away, impatiently waiting by the door until she heard three polite knocks.

She tried not to laugh when she opened the door and found a flustered Rarity on the other side, her two suitcases floating behind.

“Not a word, Twilight,” she threatened, crossing into the castle foyer, her suitcases following behind. “Not. A. Word.”

“So!” Twilight exclaimed, completely ignoring her, “does this mean you want to stay the night?”

Rarity turned to her. “Of course I want to stay the night!” Her luggage dropped to the floor. “And I hate it!”

“No, you don’t,” Twilight said, walking towards her and nuzzling her lovingly predictable significant other. “You don’t really hate it.”

“Twiliiiiight,” Rarity whined, letting herself be enveloped in a winged hug. “I have work! I have commissions! I’m not an all-powerful princess with extraordinary magic who can do whatever she pleases!”

“I’ll help you with your dresses tomorrow!” Twilight said, and at Rarity’s whine, she insisted. “I promise. In fact, why don’t we go get your sewing machine and you can work on them tonight while I organize my books?”

“And then tomorrow you’ll use my sewing machine being here as an excuse to convince me to stay an eighth night! And the worst part is you’ll probably manage to do it!” She leaned back to look at Twilight. “Darling, dearest, I love you endlessly, but I can’t stay here forever.”

VI.

The wedding was hell to plan for, but nopony could say it hadn’t been a success.

The sun was only a few hours away from rising by the time everything was truly well and done. Tired guards rounded up the rest of the straggling guests, trying to make sure as best they could that guests from out of town found their room in the castle, and that those who lived in Ponyville found their way home. Beyond them, the several dozens of ponies sleeping in the castle were all fast, fast asleep.

Well. Almost all of them.

The door to the castle’s master bedroom slammed open with a great thud, followed by a giggling Princess Twilight Sparkle being floated in as she tried to keep her long, flowing white dress from dragging on the floor.

“Shhh! Be quiet!” she gasped, her own laughter contradicting her statement. “Everypony’s asleep!”

“Pardon me, Twilight Sparkle,” Rarity replied, stepping into the room and regaling her wife with the heady sight of her slightly disheveled mane contrasting with her perfectly maintained tuxedo, “but my wife deserves a smashing entrance!”

“Your wife doesn’t want hung-over guests coming over to complain!” she shot back, only for her statement to become a delighted giggle. “Your wife,” she repeated, silly, delirious, afraid, excited, and all the emotions that entailed the adventure contained in that word.

Two words she repeated over and over while Rarity gently deposited her on top of the bed and then closed the door.

“Well, beyond the punch bowl incident, I think that went well,” Rarity said, starting to undo her bowtie. “I’m surpr—” She cut herself off, finding Twilight intently staring at her. “What is it, dearest?” She raised an eyebrow playfully. “Is it that you’re my wife?”

“Yes,” she replied, grinning when Rarity laughed affectionately.

“Aaah, I see. Well then, your wife would like for you to take off your dress before you damage it, please. I don’t think I’ve ever spent more time on a dress than I did on that one,” she said, walking over to the bed. When Twilight shook her head, she tried to give her a chastising look. “Darling, am I going to have to take it off you myself?”

Twilight fluttered her eyelashes. “You can try, Princess Rarity,” she said, and her heart swelled with affection at the sight of Rarity’s instant grin.

“Princess-consort Rarity,” she corrected, playfully. “I’ve yet to have a principality of my own.”

“That’s not true. You have me,” the princess offered, barely containing her laughter at Rarity’s renewed delighted grin.

“Yes, I suppose I do have a princess all to myself now, do I not?” she asked, batting her eyelashes. “Till death do us part.”

Twilight raised her hooves towards the unicorn, beckoning her forward. “Come on.”

“But your dress—”

“Rarityyyy,” Twilight insisted, “I promise the dress will be fine.”

Though she whined a bit more, Rarity eventually relented to the alicorn’s desires, climbing up on the bed and letting herself be pulled into Twilight’s waiting embrace. Her reservations over their outfits seemingly melted away, as well, as she sighed and snuggled up to Twilight.

“Are you happy?” Twilight asked, a silly question she couldn’t help but voice, her anxieties showing themselves even as she absentmindedly stared at the ring around Rarity’s horn.

“Deliriously so, yes.”

“Even though you didn’t get to make your own wedding dress?” she asked, watching Rarity pull back to look at her.

“Twilight, I thought we talked about this,” she said. “I’m the one who asked you to wear the dress instead of me.”

“I know! I know. I just…”

“You just looked stunning,” Rarity completed, leaning in to kiss her. “Stunning in that gorgeous dress that took me far more time than it should have because I was too busy constantly crying all over it from excitement. Besides.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “Any sadness I felt at not having my own dress vanished the second I saw your face when you came down the aisle.”

“You looked good,” Twilight said, her cheeks suddenly flushed. “Really good.”

Rarity ran a hoof through her mane. “You do deserve nothing but the best, do you not?” she said, or tried to say, at least, except a yawn interrupted her halfway. “Stars. I think the sandpony’s come to fetch me.”

“About that,” Twilight said.

Rarity blinked at her. “Yes?”

“Weeeeeell, I was wondering…”

“Yeeeees?”

“Did you want to stay the night?”

And Rarity couldn’t help but laugh, faced with such a wonderful question that warranted a wonderful answer.

“Oh, my darling,” she blissfully whispered, burying herself in Twilight, “I’ll stay the rest of my life.”

Fin.