In unison Coco and her reflection took a deep breath as they exchanged considering looks, both in the final stages of self-preparation, having just finished donning their surprise attire. The dress they wore, until then an exciting unknown, had a simplistic prettiness, although stark white not in a traditional wedding form, being without veil or elongated train. Instead it toed a line somewhere between cocktail and evening, much like a similar piece she herself had put together for this one’s designer now what seemed an age ago, except with the addition of pads in the shoulders, giving them a slightly broadened and angled look. Bisecting the pure velvet expanse about her barrel sat a thick black ribbon in contrast, tied to top her back in a neat bow, which to her satisfaction she realised would by chance nicely match alongside her partner’s suit. She turned side on, taking in the drawn flowing line of the outfit. Fleur undoubtedly had a good eye, the piece having fitted perfectly with next to no alteration, but she hoped the unicorn would forgive her own minor addition to it.
Coco turned to this extra end to a tightly wrapped parcel, previously secreted in her saddlebags and now left waiting on her dressing table (the only other bit of furniture apart from the mirror in the small tent in which she stood). She tore off a single strip of tape holding the folded amalgam of layered bubble wrap and tissue paper together, allowing the package to unfurl. What nestled within this copious protection, although not wholly requiring it, was a lily, delicate, beautiful and yet deceptively strong in its pale white and silvery petals being made of thinly blown glass. Despite it material, any fears she had had about its potential weight vanished as she lifted it free, her trust being well placed when she had it made. An equal worry had obviously been whether it would work with the dress, yet she had nonetheless gone with it and now as she pinned it to one side in her mane (its clip disguised against its stem) she found it fitted in perfectly.
‘It’s time’ a whispered voice muttered from beyond the canvas.
In an instant the tent flap was before her. She had long since passed the point of trepidation, apprehensiveness lost as she got ready in what her love had crafted for her. Those doubts that remained, what few they were and personal in nature, had been drowned out as her heart aflutter kicked up its tempo. Now therefore she was more afloat, allowing herself and only really needing one deep inhale more, as she lifted the fabric doorway and stepped through the portal.
Brightness surrounded her, the noontime sun high in the sky as its comfortable warmth fell on the world below. The day was perfect, not too hot and with only the lightest of refreshing breezes circulating the air, the sky clear as the ocean save for the few fixed clouds set as monuments within it. From these fluffy islands flowed colour striped in each and every shade of the spectrum, falling steep vertically as rolling streams, to land in the lakes and ponds of the tiny idyllic town and its outskirts. These pools then became rivers, splintering outward to run as ever thinner branches of a vastly intricate web which adorned the plateau, itself bound on all sides except for one by a bowel of snow-capped mountains. On the one side where these peaks were lacking the surging rainbows abruptly went into freefall as they leapt away from the cliff face. It was at the edge of one of these waterfalls that the tent she exited was placed, but it may as well have been anywhere because her eyes could not care less about the scenery.
In front of her, across the flowing rainbow gulf between them, a second pavilion was set mirroring her own and in equal reflection its flap opened, allowing through it the mare who instantly consumed all of her attentions. That Fleur was gorgeous was nothing at all new, but each time the snowy unicorn shone (in both look and appreciation) within something that she had made, Coco could not help her internal celebrations of pride. Her gaze almost greedily enjoyed the sight, glutting itself in tracing each inch of the elegantly suited form before her, coming to pause at something unexpected and gleaming at the mare’s chest, but whatever was within the suit’s buttonhole remained obscured as a colourful burst of reflected sunlight. When her eyes chose to move on, following the soft curves of a beaming face and its tempting lips, they came to meet a single brilliant violet iris (its twin hidden beneath a ripple of pale pink) which greeted her with a playful wink, instantly returned.
With some effort Coco made herself turn away from the shared look and moment, set into motion she knew was reciprocated by her partner, each of them tracing the river in parallel along its opposite banks. They both followed their own white carpeted path, in turn following the lightly meandering bends of the colour filled stream. Beyond them meanwhile flanking the outside of each of their routes was a double row of chairs, few in number but all uniformly filled with familiar smiling faces, all looking inward although as closest friends not making a stage play of their steps. Their journey, in reality not far at all but made to feel considerable in what it was and where it ended, concluded at an arch of rosewood planks bridging the gap over the passing waters. Further topping this had been added a framework gateway woven with white rose vines, a contrasting border to the image of a dark navy alicorn which stood waiting beneath it.
As one their hooves hit the planks. Closing the gap between them they came together at the bridge’s centres, pausing only as Fleur’s eye darted a glance swiftly at Luna before returning to Coco’s, the unicorn’s one visible eyebrow rising subtly as if to say ’what the buck!’ in pleased surprise. The earth mares stifled a laugh and instead replied with her own conspiratorial wink before the previously disguised something drew her gaze, the petals of its form becoming clearer in the shade. Recognition of her often worn and favoured flower was immediate; as was its associated wave of feeling, bound up in the simple yet touching symbol, whilst at the same time she noticed that Fleur’s attention had similarly drifted elsewhere. As their eyes returned to lock once more both succumbed to a joint giggle at their accidental mimicry, descending into fresh smiles full of warmth.
Finally no distance remained and they were side by side before the Princess of the Night. First Fleur’s forehoof went to fold with Coco’s (holding her possessively tight), then the earth mare’s head fell against her taller partner’s shoulder and in turn the unicorn’s came to rest against and lightly nuzzle her love’s mane, each tender action fluidly begetting the next. They moved and stood in sync, now hoof in hoof, lightly held by and yet tightly caught in each other’s embrace, in wordless harmony in front of the world behind and on the cusp of that beyond.