The messenger had been given what, for the assigned task, had seemed like an oddly specific instruction: make absolutely certain she understands exactly what she's supposed to do. The words had possessed an emphasis which generally didn't emerge in the Princess' voice: at least ninety percent order, with just a minor balancing hint of something which felt strangely like desperation. And the messenger hadn't understood that, because she was passing along a very basic request. Furthermore, that request was being relayed from an alicorn to an alicorn.
So the pegasus who'd just flown into Ponyville on a pleasant spring day and absolutely had to get back into Canterlot in a hurry because the makeup she needed for her fast-approaching date wasn't going to put itself on... she did what she normally would have done with just about any message. She passed a portion of the words along to the recipient, and didn't pay any real attention to what might be happening on the other end. Because the messenger, who hadn't been working for the palace all that long and wouldn't be employed for very much longer, assumed there were certain basic requirements for being an alicorn and like so many of those who had no real personal experience with them, falsely assumed that one of them was sanity.
"So that's it," the pegasus concluded. "Normally, the Princess would do this herself, or Princess Luna would take over in her stead -- but you understand: with the Courts the way they are right now, with election season going on... it's just a little too hectic. But it's a minor thing, really, just something you can do in order to take a tiny amount of pressure off them, by fulfilling one of the smallest duties there is."
The little purple figure nodded and, to anypony who wasn't primarily concentrating on whether it was supposed to be four dates before you decided whether you were going to extend the date into your own residence or five -- actually, with any stallion that handsome, it really should have been two, or one if he just hadn't felt a little sick after she'd made the mistake of swooping him home -- it might have seemed like a rather uncertain one. But the messenger was already plotting out the best way of getting her makeup out of male fur before her conquest had to head for work, and so missed all of the subtleties.
"You'll be in Baltimare tomorrow," the messenger continued to abbreviate, with most of the original script having been drowned in a rapidly rising sea of hormones. "The harbor district. Felt's Point. And by four in the afternoon, you'll have officially launched three ships. There's nothing to it. Princesses launch ships all the time -- well, okay, not all the time." (The pegasus was originally from the east coast.) "There just aren't that many ships which need launchings, but a Princess has to be the one who does it. It's traditional. Nothing can happen until you make everything official. Four in the afternoon. Felt's Point. Three ships." And only because the tallest (and most oddly-stressed) mare in Equestria had insisted that she say it, "Do you understand?"
Another nod. The pink stripe in the middle of the bangs was beginning to look slightly frayed.
"Then that's it!" the messenger smiled. "Have fun! Because there's nothing like a ship launching! Just make sure it's official!" And with that, the pegasus was out the open window, already looking forward to nuzzling and kissing and every activity which would follow, barely capable of seeing the real world through the haze of fantasy. She certainly never saw her place in a rapidly-approaching unemployment line. However, being out of work gave her lots of extra time for discovering the possibilities which existed from the fifth date on, so that was all right.
The former unicorn sat stock-still for a moment among books and the rays of Sun streaming through that open window, staring silently at the rapidly-vanishing tail. For it had taken many lessons to bring her into this point in her life, and she had already recognized the need to utilize one of the most important rules there was.
So when the panicked scream finally resounded through most of Ponyville, the messenger was already fully out of hearing range.
"Three ships!" Twilight gasped across the distance between herself and Rarity, beginning to wrap up the desperate rush of words which had flooded most of the interior. (It was a decidedly pony-free space: the Boutique's customers had a way of clearing out when a terrified alicorn came galloping into the shop, and two of the dresses were still in the process of drifting to the floor.) "The last time I tried to launch a ship, I was a filly! And I wasn't exactly good at it!"
"Twilight," the designer carefully tried. The word emerged with a light layer of distraction coating the syllables, as the unicorn who'd just spoken had the air of somepony who was thinking rather quickly.
"That was back when I was still reading foal stuff," Twilight hastily explained. "And I didn't know anything about -- anything! Not when it came to -- well, she explained some of it, but I was too young, I didn't really understand just about all of it, and I didn't really think about stuff like compatibility..."
Which brought forth a brief, oddly-ladylike snort from the white snout. "The majority of shipping," Rarity declared, "has never exactly been concerned with such minor issues as whether those being shipped happened to be compatible. So if you failed to incorporate that trivial factor as a filly, Twilight, then please be assured that you were already operating at the shipping level of a regrettably typical adult."
Twilight softly moaned, sank back onto her haunches. "I shipped Rain Masquerade with Excelsior."
Rarity briefly frowned. "I don't quite see --"
"Rain was the main character in my third-favorite Thaumic Fiction series," Twilight miserably continued, barrel now quickly descending to the floor. "And Excelsior was her sapient tail-mounted razorwhip."
There was a long pause, which provided more than enough time for a fully-lowered Twilight to press her forelegs against her horn.
"I can see," Rarity eventually said, "how there might be some difficulty in consummating the relationship."
A soft moan filled the Boutique. "I'm no good at this. I know it. I haven't been in a position to ship anypony or even anyone or anything for years, Rarity, not when I was just reading academic papers and the only things I was putting together were chemicals. And even most of those exploded. I don't know how to do this. I'll get it wrong."
"Because you," Rarity reviewed, "have to personally and officially launch three ships."
"Tomorrow," Twilight miserably confirmed. "And that's why I came straight here."
"To me," Rarity ventured.
The forelegs came down, and the purple head raised slightly. "Because you're the most romantic pony I know."
"Outstanding that you finally noticed."
"...what?"
"Oh, nothing..." More quickly, with blue eyes brightening, "Romantic, you said?"
"Well," Twilight continued, looking up a little more, "you're always checking romance novels out of the library."
"Nicely spotted," Rarity dryly stated. "Anything else?"
"You're always saying things like 'Wouldn't a dinner by candlelight be ever so romantic!' Or 'Don't you think Moon's light is particularly romantic tonight!' When we're going out to dinner as friends, or taking a friendly trot under Moon. Because like you just said, you want to see if I can spot that sort of thing. Oh, and romantic movies. The last three films you asked me to see with you at the cinema were all romances."
"...right," Rarity finally acknowledged, with the word just barely managing to shift the several hundred bale-weights of burden needed for it to emerge at all.
"Mare-mare romances," Twilight added.
"Well, we have a one-screen cinema. We are generally stuck with what is playing. And matches up with our mutual schedules. Which, of course, require rather careful planning. Incidentally, after that last film, the one with Silver Nitrate, whom I distinctly happen to remember your mentioning approval of, did you happen to notice how I've recently taken to styling my mane in a manner reminiscent of --"
"And," Twilight went on, "then there were all the things you were talking about before our first Gala --"
"-- yes," Rarity hastily cut Twilight off. "Let us simply say that my credentials as a romantic have been sufficiently established. Twilight, what do you wish me to do?"
"I can't ship ponies," the librarian said. "Not without getting it wrong. But -- you could."
The designer, who'd already been giving off the impression of deep thought going on at all times, now appeared to be simultaneously composing and defending a PhD dissertation.
"I know tomorrow's the first day of the weekend," Twilight carefully continued as she began to force herself back to her hooves. "And you'd normally be selling. I hate asking you to lose a sales day. But this is a Princess duty, and I think I might be able to ask the palace to compensate you for your losses. As a -- royal retainer? But Rarity... even if I can't make that happen... I need help. It took me so long to figure out when I have to ask for help, and I know this is one of those times. Please, Rarity... help me..."
The white unicorn took a slow breath.
"There will need to be," she stated, "certain rules."
Twilight, eyes now showing the glimmer of somepony looking at both solution and checklist, listened.
"I am far more romantic than you are," Rarity said. "We have proven that. Repeatedly. You have come to me as an expert, and so I must be accorded final say. The ship launchings will appear to be conducted by you. But all decisions are mine. Can you agree to that?"
The librarian, stress-disrupted fur visibly beginning to settle back into its natural grain, immediately nodded.
"Second," Rarity continued, "it will be just the two of us. Too many cooks spoil the soup: too many ponies spoil the ship." A thoughtful pause. "Except for those times when one attempts to launch a harem, and that is an exceptionally tricky business. Far too advanced for our purposes in this launching. The balance..." and stopped as she finally spotted Twilight's total confusion. "...well, perhaps on our next movie night. But you do agree, yes? That it shall be yourself and I alone? You came directly to me --" and smiled "-- which is something I truly appreciate, but that also means you would have had no chance to tell the others, so unless they saw or heard you...?"
"Just us," Twilight agreed as her ears resumed their natural loft. "Anything else?"
Rarity nodded. "Wear your regalia."
The skin under purple fur began to pale. "I --"
"-- I know you dislike doing so," Rarity calmly interrupted. "You feel it makes you stand out far too much. But Twilight, you are one of but a few alicorns in the world. You already stand out in a crowd. Nopony could mistake you for anypony else, or anypony who was not -- special. A pony who --" and a rather quick, oddly deep breath. "-- needs my help. But even with horn and wings visible, Twilight, ponies may need an extra reminder that they are being shipped by a Princess. Officially launched. It may be necessary to make those ships work at all. The regalia will not hurt."
After a few seconds, Twilight reluctantly nodded.
"Also," Rarity casually said, "it sets off your eyes."
Twilight smiled. "This is part of why I came straight here."
"Because I recognize when you look your best, even when you fail to acknowledge it yourself, and can state --"
"-- because it's a romantic thing to say! Talking about a pony's eyes... none of the others would have thought to say something like that."
"True," Rarity acknowledged.
"And when you say it about the ponies in Baltimare, it'll help so much!" Twilight turned, started to trot towards the exit -- stopped, glanced back over her left shoulder. "What time do you want to be there? It could take all day to launch three ships, so the earlier --"
The defended dissertation was now fighting its way into a printing press, twisting some of the letters into new shapes along the way. "-- no, Twilight. Felt's Point is a tourist area: such do not see real traffic flow on hoof and wing until later in the day. Adjusting for their time zone -- two in the afternoon. We arrive then."
Twilight blinked. "Just two hours?" And the panic began to rise again. "For three ships?"
"Twilight." A simple, quiet word, and this time, it was more than enough to stop the fear. "Do you trust me?"
"...yes."
"Regalia," Rarity summarized. "Allowing me to direct the pairings. And the two of us, in Baltimare, tomorrow afternoon, with your having told nopony, very much including Spike, where we are going, what we are doing, or why. It will make the stories that much more entertaining upon our return. Because the Princess has told you to launch ships in her stead, and I will make certain that we meet her requirements."
"Okay," Twilight finally said. And smiled. "I trust you, Rarity. I'll contact the palace's transportation services, and we'll meet at the gatehouse about -- ten minutes before two?" (The designer nodded.) "I just really wish Cadance wasn't in the Empire. If anypony should be launching ships..." More hastily, "I mean, I'm not saying you can't do it, but with her magic, if there's anypony in the world who would be better than --"
"I am not insulted," Rarity gently told the librarian. "But if not Cadance, then let me do what I can. Until tomorrow, Twilight."
A nod of open relief, and the alicorn left.
"Yes," Rarity told the air, several safety-guaranteeing seconds after the door had closed. "We do it all tomorrow..."
Just about every town, city, and settlement had at least one gatehouse: a free-standing, completely hollow structure which never had its interior occupied for more than a moment. They were intended as the end goals of rapid transports: in times when ponies had to cross the continent in a hurry, an escort-capable unicorn would meet their passengers at one gatehouse (Ponyville's slightly dusty one was behind Town Hall) and then teleport them to the next receiving point in line, where another teleporter would hurry inside and bear the Very Important Ponies to the next transfer point. Over and over, all the way from one part of the country to another, until the journey ended with two rather disoriented ponies reeling their way out of the double-doors onto cobblestone streets, the twin scents of salt and alcohol already beginning to soak into their lungs.
"Felt's Point," Rarity finally said after the world stopped spinning. "My father has told me about it: he took many trips to Baltimare as a hoofball player, and continues to visit as a coach. I have never seen it with my own eyes, and yet I know it so well..." She smiled, gestured with her right foreleg. "Look towards the water, Twilight!" And then, much more quickly, "No, not too far, there is no point to viewing what exists of our navy."
Twilight tore her addition away from an oddly-glossy hull just visible in the distance, one whose wood appeared to have never contacted water. "What am I looking at?"
"The crabbers!"
It took a moment for the librarian to spot them. There were ponies standing at the edge of one dock. One of them was lowering a small metal pyramid into the water via a rope which had been run through a group of four temporarily-united topping circles. Another was extracting the odd structure from the ocean, a pyramid which had a shelled, snapping occupant moving sideways within the little trap. The pony lowered the metal to the dock and released the rope from his teeth: the loss of tension made the walls fall away, and the crustacean angrily rushed out -- heading directly for the edge of the dock, where it dropped back into the water. The pony nodded with satisfaction, then began to bait the trap again.
Twilight watched the incomprehensible activity for a full minute before venturing the question. "What's the point?"
"To catch crabs. For a few seconds."
"Ponies don't eat crabs! Ponies don't keep crabs as pets! Ponies don't do anything with crabs!"
"But aren't they fun to watch? And there's the thanatology shop!"
Twilight blinked.
"Thanatology shop."
"Yes! Oh, my father has spoken to me of it so many times, but I never thought I'd see --"
"They practice necromancy? In the open?"
Several passers-by, who had been slowly closing in to get a closer look at the regalia-wearing alicorn, collectively and permanently decided to give the new arrivals some extra space. Rarity simply frowned.
"Thanatology. The science of death, not the magic. There is a difference, Twilight."
Slowly, "There's a pony skeleton in the window."
"Yes. It was donated."
Shakily, "By...?"
"The previous owner, obviously. Oh, I wish I had a dressmaker's form which was articulated half as well... And there's the bar!"
Which momentarily got Twilight's attention off the skull.
"Which one?"
Both mares looked to each side of the wide avenue. Purple and blue eyes made a quick count.
"Every other building," Twilight realized, "is a bar."
Two drunken ponies stumbled out of one building and managed their best stagger, each body helping to prop the other up for exactly as long as they could both remain in motion. This turned out to be two buildings down the line, which was just far enough to let them fall through the door into sousing.
"Literally," Twilight continued as her eyes worked down what, by the following morning, would feel like an oddly natural progression. "Bar. Brewery supply store. Bar. Pawnshop. Bar. Alcoholism counseling center. Bar. Funeral home. Bar."
"Well, that's just here," Rarity said. "The ratio moves up somewhat as one approaches the actual beer garden."
The scents in the air were mostly salt and alcohol. Twilight was just beginning to pick up on a faint undercurrent of vomit.
"Baltimare," she decided, "is weird."
"Well, yes," Rarity stated. "They pride themselves on it." A quick flicker of soft blue corona adjusted her sunhat, for where Twilight had been ordered into full regalia, Rarity had chosen to wear something soft and billowy, contours changing with every breeze which came off the ocean, the underlying form obscured and revealed gust by gust. The hat itself was so wide-brimmed as to nearly shade her tail, and she'd put on what seemed to be an unusual amount of makeup for the occasion. "But we will surely have time to explore later, after your duties as a Princess are concluded. I am curious to see the rounders stadium, but... for now, let us begin!"
Which made Twilight realize just how much time had already been lost in looking at the area. "Rarity -- can we do it?"
"I can do it," Rarity smiled. "You, as befits true royalty, will simply get all of the credit. So... let us move around somewhat -- no, not towards the masts! We -- want to stay in the heart of the tourist area. To get the best possible selection. All one acquires with -- sailing vessels -- is sailors. I would prefer to work with civilians."
"Three ship launches," Twilight worriedly said. "Can we create that many?"
"I will guarantee one," Rarity replied, an oddly distracted expression on her face as she surveyed the crowd. "With me now, Twilight."
Who blinked.
"Let us advance into the crowd," Rarity clarified. "Move with me..."
In one sense, it could be said that there were few things which Twilight truly hated -- but the rage-singed checklist tended to be occupied by some rather wide categories. Pony stupidity generally held the lead entry, although travel always had the chance to extend the species limit. And close behind that was tight deadlines. They had but two hours to start with, on Rarity's advice, and now they had less. Considerably less, as Rarity was looking at the crowd as if she was planning a giant painting of the scene, with frequent stops to check angles and consider the adjustment of afternoon lighting. Some part of Twilight understood: after all, proper shipping shouldn't be done as a casual kick-together of any two ponies who just happened to be in the same general area when shipping was demanded. But still.. the clock was ticking, and every beat felt like a little kick into her ribs.
But she had to trust Rarity. The single most romantic pony she knew, the one who kept trying to teach Twilight all about what romance was -- which, considering the subject-dubious quality of the student, was an act of truest friendship. Rarity would get them there.
Still, it took nearly forty minutes of moving around the area, past bar after bar after pony who'd collapsed coming out of the bar, before the designer nodded to herself. She twitched her tail twice, so that the hairs lightly caressed Twilight's flank. The librarian glanced over.
"Those two," Rarity softly said, tilting her head to indicate the direction.
A whisper. "You're sure?"
The somewhat larger of the two chosen ponies said something. The slightly smaller responded by hind-kicking that companion in the ribs, hard. Both laughed.
"Completely," Rarity smiled. "Follow my lead, Twilight..." She trotted forward, and her friend followed: it only took seconds to reach the pairing, who were busy semi-assaulting each other within a welcome bubble of open space. "Pardon?"
The larger looked up. A somewhat-surprised gaze was slowly focused through irises, lenses, and several recently-consumed mugs of beer.
"She's an alicorn," the pony said, and kick-poked his companion. "See that? Alicorn."
Twilight blushed. Rarity simply said, "I'm very glad you recognize that! Because you see, the two of you are about to be on the receiving end of an official Princess duty! You have been chosen! Is that not a great honor!"
The smaller had a thought visibly try to leap across a moat of wine. "Chosen?"
"Yes!"
That one looked them both over.
"Well," the smaller pony said, "all right!" And paused. "I call the unicorn."
"Seriously?" the larger said. "You've got an alicorn right there and you're calling the unicorn? Do you know how many ponies have landed alicorns?"
"No. Do you?"
"Um... well, if you believe that one magazine, it would be --"
"Your pardon," Rarity steadily said as Twilight's blush began to radiate out from her actual body.
"-- but you know, half those stories are made up. Half the alicorns sure are. I mean, a Princess Of Sex. Who's ever seen that?"
"Maybe," came the dazed and splash-landed proposal, "we're seeing her right now..."
The larger looked Twilight over again.
"She's a little small," that pony decided. "But hey, size doesn't matter, right? I call alicorn!"
"Your pardon," Rarity tried again, this time with considerably more force.
"Look," the larger pony said, "don't feel neglected. You're really pretty. And since there's four of us in the bed, we'll all shuffle around eventually."
"There will not," Rarity half-hissed, "be four of us in a bed."
"Oh." A long moment of thought. "Because it's a Princess duty. So just the two of us and her, then?"
Rarity took a very deep breath.
"The two of you," she said, "and nopony else. Or rather, the two of you and neither of us, should you decide to go recruiting after we leave. Because you are being shipped. The Princess --" and a quick glance of apology at Twilight, whose fur felt as if it was about to catch fire "-- is officially launching your ship. A royal. ship. launching. Have we made ourselves clear? You -- and you -- are now a we."
The ponies stared at them.
"I'm a guy," the larger stallion said, with his tones no more than ninety-nine percent questioning of the world's sanity.
"And I'm a guy," the smaller male quickly agreed, with the moat beginning to visibly drain while incidentally taking most of the blood away from his face. "We're guys!"
"I hardly see how that matters," Rarity sniffed. "You are shipped."
The larger stallion took a breath.
"I like mares," he tried. "Just mares."
"Me too," said the smaller. "I mean, nothing against stallions who want stallions, because that leaves all the more mares for us. But mares. Just mares. Always just mares."
"The Princess," Rarity imperiously stated, "was observing the way you two interact. The shoving. The casual infliction of small injuries upon each other. The constant questioning of each other's masculinity. Do you know what that typically reflects?"
Both stallions thought it over.
"...that we're bros who've been using our day off to drink together since just before Sun was raised?" the smaller shakily proposed.
"Unresolved. Sexual. Tension," Rarity sternly corrected. "You are clearly channeling your undeniable attraction to each other into -- well, denial. You hang out together because it brings you together. You drink together because it dulls the pain of not truly being together. You are, in fact, in love with each other, and neither has the courage to say it. Well, gentlecolts, that has ended. Because you are now officially -- and again, royally -- shipped."
The stallions stared at her. Twilight. Each other. The cycle repeated a few times.
"So act like it," Rarity something-more-than-suggested. "So that the Princess will know this part of her duty has been fulfilled."
"The... Princess," the larger tried, with his tones sinking by the letter.
"Yes," Rarity evenly replied.
"We're shipped," the smaller desperately risked. "Seriously? This isn't some kind of joke?"
"Royal duties," Rarity stated, "are never a joke. Princess Twilight, are they really, truly, and extremely royally shipped?"
Twilight, who did occasionally recognize a cue, nodded.
"You are shipped," Rarity told the stallions. "I believe you should know what to do next? Because there is only one way to make it official."
The larger looked at the smaller. The smaller took a slow breath. Both had their eyes move from horn to wings, with a long pause at the regalia along the way.
It was twenty hoofsteps into their trot before Twilight risked a brief glance backwards.
"They're still kissing."
"Good," Rarity declared with satisfaction. "One shipping down, and two remain."
Another glance.
"I mean, they're... really kissing."
"Many things can happen when the tension is finally released," Rarity told her. "An outpouring of affection, if you like."
One more.
"I'm... um... do stallions usually -- I mean, his tongue just..."
"Undoubtedly they'll move it inside shortly. When they remember that an 'inside' exists."
"Ponies are staring at them."
"Who wouldn't stare at a successful ship launching? And a royal one at that!" Rarity laughed. "I am rather enjoying this. On to the next, Twilight!"
"Um... their tails just..."
"I rather fancy those two over there, don't you? The ones currently arguing at the table in front of the bar -- no, that bar."
"It sounds like he got her drink order wrong."
"In order to get more time with her speaking to him! Come, let us close in and listen. Perhaps the return insults are ones of desperate endearment..."
They didn't ship the server and patron, in part Rarity decided that it wasn't enough of what she called a meet-cute to truly base a shipping on. The rest was due to time, and not the clock steadily kicking against Twilight's slim form: it seemed as if those two had just met, and even the librarian knew that for shipping to truly occur, the ponies involved had to have known each other for ten minutes at least. Anything else was just kicking bodies onto beds and seeing which ones wound up under the blankets.
In fact, it took several false starts before Rarity found a second shipping. More than a few couples who were touring the Point together turned out to be dating, and how could you ship a pairing which already existed? The same problem existed for those ponies who were married, although that further reaffirmed Twilight's faith in Rarity: the most romantic pony she knew had been drawn to those whose love had already bloomed. But then one particularly attractive duo turned out to be brother and sister, which made Rarity blush before stammering an apology and nearly pulling Twilight away by her tail: after all, even shipping needed to have limits.
Eventually, however, they heard squabbling from inside one of the bars and under Rarity's direction, peeked inside long enough to see waitress and bartender having an all-out row -- one which even Twilight could tell was emerging with a well-practiced rhythm, actor and actress speaking familiar lines just for the sake of seeing who could outperform the other. Rarity quickly diagnosed another case of rechanneled urges, stepped into the bar, and had the pair shipped within ten minutes. There was even a round of applause from the bar's patrons, who had apparently been waiting three years to see those two just get it over with already and, according to the one whose overweight form was just about embossed into a private bench, had been through so many false starts and teases as to make a full series of short plays.
Two-thirds of the way to their assigned goal, with -- Twilight checked the nearest clock -- forty minutes before deadline. So they were actually just about right on pace. It could be done. They would do it -- or rather, Rarity would, and she kept saying that she didn't mind Twilight taking the credit because that was what Twilight deserved. A good friend indeed.
Plenty of time.
But time had a way of passing...
"Look over there." The tones were frantic. Rushed. They had to be rushed: there were less than ten minutes left and to speak slowly was to feel each extra second slide off her tongue.
Rarity looked -- then glanced at Twilight. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"
"Those two!" Twilight hissed. "You see the way they keep looking at each other? But only when each one thinks the other isn't looking. And their eyes... it's like that movie you took me to last moon, with the ones who were just too shy to say anything, it's almost an exact replica of that scene, we've even got a waterfront..."
The designer took another look. "We are getting a little too close to the sailing vessels, aren't we? Let's go back to the main tourist area."
"Rarity! It's just like the movie! Don't you remember what Silver Nitrate's character had to do? We can save them from that! All we have to do is -- all you have to do is...!"
Rarity was looking right at her now. Their snouts were close enough to have the sunhat's brim shading both faces.
"You remember the film that clearly?"
"I saw it with you," Twilight immediately said. "The things we do together are important to me."
Rarity slowly smiled.
"Because my friend feels those things are worth our time together," Twilight finished. "Those two, Rarity. What do you think?"
The white unicorn turned. Looked at the earth pony mare and pegasus stallion, and held that regard for what felt like far too long as regret slowly pooled in blue eyes.
"No."
"...no?"
"They are wrong for each other," Rarity stated. "At least at this point in time. We move on."
"But...!" Several fast, sharp breaths, and she could feel the seconds expended on every one. "We're one short! It's just like the movie, Rarity, just like it, and in the movie...!"
"Movies are movies," Rarity said. "And life is life." She slowly turned back. "Twilight -- do you trust me?"
There was only one answer to that. "Yes."
"I will not create an inferior shipping," Rarity declared. "Not when I am fulfilling a duty to royalty. Allow me to continue."
"But you've been rejecting everypony," Twilight desperately reminded her. "Everypony since the bar! And it's almost four! If we don't make it...!"
She didn't know what would happen if they didn't reach the goal. She simply knew that the Princess had wanted something done and if it didn't happen, then no matter what Rarity had tried, Twilight would have failed. That made it all the worse.
It was making her desperate, and that state increased with every tick of the clock.
"I know time is short, Twilight, but we have time yet," Rarity insisted. "Over this way..."
"Over this way!" Twilight shot back, the fear of failure saturating the words. "Towards the masts! We've checked the entire Point! Maybe there's ponies wandering around over there, ones we haven't seen yet!"
"Or new tourists could have arrived at the base of the street," Rarity tried to remind her. "Also, we have the beer garden to consider --"
Which was when the panic set in.
"-- Twilight!"
But it was too late. The librarian was racing away, frantic purple eyes moving from couple to couple, trying to see potential, trying to find ships when all she could truly see was a slowly-tapping white forehoof moving in the rhythm of disappointment...
Rarity caught up with her a few minutes later. A few -- and too many.
Twilight had gone to ground leaning against a boat repair supplies shop. The one next to the bar. And the other bar.
"Twilight?"
"I..." Breathing too hard, too fast. "...I'm sorry... it's the Princess, it's an order from the Princess and I... even now, Rarity, even with my wings, I... I'm sorry, I just..."
There was a flare of soft blue corona, accompanied by a practiced shake of the elegant form. And then there was a bare white coat pressed against her flank.
"It's all right, Twilight," Rarity softly whispered, her mouth close to flattened right ear. "It's all right. When it's you, I will always understand."
"But we're out of time... I was looking for ponies, every hoofstep..."
"I did the same."
"...and nopony looked right, we're out of time..."
Twilight trembled under Sun. The light had been distorted into a odd cast of white, which put strange highlights into Rarity's coat.
"We have two minutes," Rarity assured her. "Two minutes is enough."
"There's nopony on the street. We'd have to get lucky in the bar, or the repair shop, or the bar. And we can't just ship any two ponies just to meet the deadline..."
Rarity's restyled mane shifted as she pulled back slightly, just enough to look Twilight directly in the eyes.
"We have one possibility left."
It had been a statement. A plain acknowledgement of fact, the inventor emerging from their workshop with a device for the ages, wishing only for recognition of miracle. There had been a moment of genius: applause could be held until after the actual demonstration.
Twilight heard that plain statement and knew that whatever the solution was, Rarity had it.
"What?"
"We can be shipped with each other."
Twilight blinked.
"That's brilliant."
Rarity nodded.
"We'll have to go on dates for a while," Twilight rushed on. "Actual dates. Plus we should probably eat out together. And have sleepovers. Plus whatever else shipped ponies do. To make it look official. And real."
"Yes," Rarity patiently said. "And of course, things which look real often become..." A quick breath. "Twilight, we are nearly at the deadline now. We must make this official. And there is only one way to do that."
They looked at each other.
Snouts moved closer to each other. Eyes began to shut. Tails curled in towards bodies.
"Only one way," Rarity whispered, with her lips so close to Twilight's. "One way to make this work..."
"Found you!"
They froze.
Two mares glanced up.
The uniformed pegasus stallion was hovering overhead. "We've been looking everywhere!" he declared. "I never would have thought it would be so hard to spot a Princess from the air, but I was the only one who was trying this close to the Point! I've got to get you over there! We're already running late, we'll never get out of here on time, but now that I've found you...!"
"And who," Rarity hissed, every word fired into the air from the steam pressure of fast-building rage, "are you?"
"...Cadet Tarfu," the stallion risked.
"You were looking for us?" Twilight asked -- then figured it out. "Oh! The deadline! I should have known the Princess would have sent somepony to make sure all three ships were officially launched!" And then, more hesitantly, "But... we finished on time!"
The stallion managed an awkward shuffle in midair.
"...well... yes... to the first part and -- on the second... no..."
They were led out of the shadow cast by the largest sail on the highest mast. It didn't take all that long before they reached their destination.
There was a trio of gleaming wooden sailing vessels at the dock. There were also three champagne buckets, each with nearly all of its ice melted, one in front of each hull. And standing at near-frozen attention next to the central construction area (which was between the bar, and the other bar) were three full groups of rapidly cramping sailors, none of whom were allowed to actually board their vessels until Equestria's three newest ships were officially launched.
Twilight took a few available-seeming seconds to look everything over.
"Um," she said, and fainted.
The white hoof was steadily tapping, and every beat sounded a note of doom.
Twilight's gaze slowly worked its way up from the hoof (and the gold-shot marble it had been tapping against), up the left leg and onto the body, then along the neck and past the slow twisting of semi-tangible mane. It took a while, as there was a lot to move across.
"Um," Twilight said.
"I understand," Princess Celestia said, "that there were some difficulties."
"Um," Twilight tried again, having found no better word in her vocabulary during the trip into Canterlot.
"Oh, some of them are rather minor," the Princess continued. "When I wished for the two of you to be in front of me immediately, Rarity apparently insisted on stopping and speaking to a shy young couple before leaving the coast. I'm sure there's a very good reason why."
Rarity answered that with "Um...," which Twilight took as her friend's attempt to offer support.
"Under one of the other hooves," the elder of the Diarchy mercilessly continued, "there is now a movement in Baltimare to institute a law against public displays of affection. A very recent movement. The last three hours, which is coincidentally the amount of time during which two stallions have been making out with each other in full view of the Point. I suspect the offended parties are actually upset over their personally not being quite that good at it."
This inspired Twilight to locate a second word. "I..." It didn't seem to help.
"And then there's some mildly terrified ponies racing around the Point, trying to avoid -- well, let's just say most of them wound up in the bars, so at least tourist traffic is pretty much normal."
That didn't seem to require a response.
The Princess took a breath.
"Twilight," Princess Celestia slowly asked, "from you, I would like to start with the answer to one question. Why was it, when my former messenger asked you to launch ships, did your mind immediately go to 'pairing ponies up simply on the basis of their having been in each other's vicinity for a while'?"
A royal order had been given, and so sentences were engaged. "...Cadance was my foalsitter."
The forehoof stopped tapping. The leg lifted, went in front of the Princess' face, briefly covered the eyes before being lowered again.
"Cadance," the Princess softly repeated.
"She used to talk about shipping all the --"
"Cadance," the Princess sighed. "Right. And -- Rarity?" Who looked rather far up. "Obviously, that explanation is not going to work with you."
"Well," Rarity half-stammered, "my foalsitter was --"
"Because I have a memory," the Princess cut her off. "One I never thought I'd need to call on -- but fortunately, it's rather distinctive. I wonder if you might happen to recall it as well, seeing as how you were there at the time. During those days when Fancypants was showing you around Canterlot society."
"Um..." Rarity tried, because four was death.
"And he arranged," the Princess continued, "for you to launch a ship."
"Oh," Rarity said.
"With champagne."
"...yes."
"One would presume," the Princess stated, "that would tend to give somepony an idea of what ship launching was. So what, exactly, in detail, is your excuse?"
Rarity concentrated on her breathing as if it was the very last thing she needed to be concerned with in all the world, which certainly felt like a possibility.
"I assumed that Twilight was providing me with the exact details of her assignment. And so I went along with her beliefs, because that interpretation had been created by the orders I presumed..." which was when she noticed the stare "...she'd been... given?"
"And no other interpretation came to your mind."
"None."
The Princess slowly closed her eyes. Opened them again.
"Go home."
"...Princess?" Twilight tried.
"Both of you," the Princess said. "Go home. Just -- go home."
"Are -- we in trouble?"
"It's not her fault!" Rarity quickly added. "Please, Princess, really, when you think about a filly who was foalsat by Cadance -- "
"Twilight. Sparkle. Rarity. Belle."
The two mares briefly stopped breathing.
"Go home," the Princess told them. "Now."
They nodded. Twilight turned to face the Sunset Gate, began to slowly trot, her tail tucked between her hind legs. Rarity's front knees bent, and her snout descended towards white hooves --
"-- don't."
Rarity straightened. They left.
The air carriage dropped them off, with decidedly indecent haste, in front of the Boutique. It took a few seconds before the now-absent wind stopped roaring in their ears.
"I'm sorry," were the first words Twilight managed.
"It's not your fault."
"I guess... it could have been a lot worse?"
Rarity nodded.
And somehow, Twilight found a smile.
"I mean, we almost wound up shipped!" Which was followed by a laugh. "Just to make a deadline! We could have been dating and eating out and having sleepovers for moons! Or even longer! All that time we would have had to spend together, when we couldn't just be friends... can you imagine?"
"Yes," Rarity softly said, the word oddly hollow: a state Twilight immediately decided had come from exhaustion. "Yes, I can."
"I have to go sleep this day off," Twilight declared. "Right now. You should too. So -- see you in three days? For the next movie?"
A silent nod.
"You'll probably have to explain most of it to me again," Twilight smiled. "I mean, I'm me and... you're the most romantic pony I know."
Again.
"Well -- good night!"
Rarity watched Twilight trot away, including every moment of the tail which was slowly working its way back to full loft. And only when that tail's owner had fully vanished from sight did she turn away, allow soft blue corona to interact with the Boutique's locks.
The trot inside was a slow one, as was the closing of all the curtains. She took a moment to check on the state of the sound-muffling spell and made sure Opal was resting in a place where abruptly-extended claws would do no harm.
The unicorn took a deep breath.
"CURSES! FOILED AGAIN!"