Dear Rarity,

It was beneath the veil of breathless night that we first became one.

The biting snow fell gently against us, our bodies intertwined in that hallowed dance, until the morning sun rose to embrace the world. I could not dance, but you did not care; so deep was your unexpected love for me.

It was that willful blindness that made the night so magical to me. Never had anyone so completely looked past my flaws, to gaze upon the version of me that I wished I was. Not even myself. Not until you taught me how.

When we finally pulled away from each other—the cold winter air diving to fill the space between our bodies—you told me to wait. To keep our union a secret. Why? Were you embarrassed? Or perhaps the allure of a hidden romance was too much for you to give up?

Whatever your reason, I agreed. Because, to my surprise, I already loved you back.

Each time our eyes met and we held onto that connection just a little longer than normal, I felt it. Each time you found an excuse to bump into me while we were in public, I felt it. And when you said my name…

“Of course, Twilight, dear.”

There was something in the way you said it. Perhaps it was the way you held the first vowel sound longer than anypony else, or the way you exhaled with the “-light.” Something that set my heart aflutter when I heard your silken voice.

I wondered constantly if our friends heard it. It was a practiced art for you—frolicking close enough to the cliff edge to entertain the possibility of slipping, yet pulling back just before the momentum pushed us over. A delicate game, created to add a bit of thrill to our mundane lives.

I’m sure it was just as thrilling for you to play as it was for me to watch.

“Rarity.”

“Mm-hm?”

“We have to tell our friends,” I whispered in your ear one night. I had you wrapped in my hooves, with a wing draped across you for good measure. I think I may have been afraid of the wind picking you up and blowing you away, like a fragment of a dream.

“But darling,” you pouted. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“We have to.”

You didn’t respond immediately. To this day, I worry that those words might have been where it all started to go wrong.

“I know,” you finally said. “I’m going to miss this, though.”

I pulled you tighter against my form with my wing. You raised one of your hooves to my chest, keeping enough distance for us to look into each other’s eyes. And we did. Laid there staring at each other, like we were trying to burn the image into our minds.

At least, that’s what it felt like to me.

We told the world, and for a few weeks, the sun itself shined brighter.

We spent countless hours sitting next to each other, you working on dresses while I pretended to read. I’m not sure if you ever noticed. The truth is, I loved watching you work.

But there were parts of your work that I could not watch. I noticed it in your eyes: the exhaustion you carried when you came back from fashion shows, or day trips to your other boutiques. I tried to pamper you, thinking that giving you the chance to sit down and rest would be the best gift I could give.

I was stupid. I can admit that now.

I don’t know what you had to hear during those trips. I don’t know how it affected you. And even if I had been there beside you, I wouldn’t have known how make it better. By Celestia, I wish I did. I wish I had done so many things differently. You deserved as much. More, in fact. Much more.

It was beneath the veil of breathless night that we broke apart.

The memory feels like something I dreamed up. But every day I wake, I’m reminded that the dream hasn’t ended.

I don’t need to repeat your reasons. In full honesty, I can no longer remember exactly what you said. Your quiet, measured words were drowned out by the rushing blood in my ears and the silence of my thoughts. But I understood them regardless.

I want to go back and tell you what I know now—I don’t care what they were saying about us. I don’t care about your lack of “status” or "refinement," and I certainly don’t care about the opinions of anypony who does. I was scared back then, and I think you were too. Neither of us knew what it meant for me to be an alicorn. I was obsessed with looking inward, at gathering the confidence to fit my wings, while you–

Generous soul you were, you looked outward. At all the scowling faces that doubted me; who were waiting for me to fail. It hurt you immensely. I see that now.

Everything you did was for my benefit, and all I did was nod and agree—even when you wore the torment plain as any other garment.

I’m so sorry.

I know these aren’t the words you’ll want to hear, but you aren’t a young mare anymore, Rarity. When I see you, I can’t help but let cold dread seep into my fur while I wonder how long you have left. I know it’s a horrible thing to remind a lady of her own mortality, so forgive me for what you’re about to read.

I don’t want to lose a friend. I want to lose a wife.

It’s been decades since our lips first met under the snow-dappled sky, backlit by the moon and stars. And yet my love for you hasn’t faded in the slightest. I know you feel the same. All of our friends have married—some are even raising children—yet you’ve never so much as courted another pony. I can see it in your eyes, just like I did back then. I hope you can see the same longing in mine.

If you refuse, I won’t blame you. The fears you held back then are still just as valid, perhaps even more so considering my new role as sole princess of Equestria. But I won’t let my fear hold me back from extending my hoof one last time.

You’re worth that.

With all the love in this world and the next,

~~Princess~~ Twilight Sparkle ♡

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