“Rarity,” Applejack called. “We’re here.”
Rarity descended the stairs that led to her personal quarters, clad in a black nightgown that hugged her form. “Why hello, Applejack.” She smiled victoriously. “I do recall telling Sketchy to come alone, but I suppose it’s only natural that you’d worry about me seducing your coltfriend.”
“What’s a coltfriend?” Sketchy asked, coming in behind Applejack.
Applejack grit her teeth. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
“If you say so, dear.” Rarity nodded to Sketchy. “Speaking of coltfriends, it’s good to see you again.”
Sketchy nodded back. “Applejack wants me to tell you that she has a more attractive butt than you.”
Absolute silence reigned for a moment, then Applejack facehoofed hard enough to knock her hat off. “Sketchy, you weren’t supposed to tell her I told you to say that.”
“Oh,” Sketchy said. “Sorry.”
Applejack sighed. “Nah, I reckon it’s my fault for not explaining it properly.”
The sound of muffled laughter made her look up, to see Rarity fighting to keep her face straight. “My goodness, you two are just precious together.” She moved closer to Applejack and whispered, “And telling him to compliment your flank in front of me? You really are jealous, aren’t you?”
“Not in the least,” Applejack said.
“Then why come along at all?” Rarity asked.
“To watch this bull-headed scheme of yours fall apart.”
Rarity smiled. “I told you last night, you underestimate me, darling.” She pulled back and turned to Sketchy. “Everything is set up in the bedroom. If you’ll follow me.” She led them back up the stairs to a scene right out of some cheesy romance novel.
The curtains were shut, candles were everywhere, and white rose petals had been scattered across Rarity’s massive bed. Though the romance novels would probably leave out the drawing desk set up in front of the bed. Probably. Applejack had never read one of those books, so she wouldn’t know.
Sketchy didn’t say anything. He just sat at the desk and started unloading the art supplies in his saddlebags.
“I’m told you only work in black and white,” Rarity said, positioning herself on the bed. “I did my best to use objects that would show up clearly in that medium, but please let me know if there’s anything you believe should be changed.”
Sketchy paused in his unpacking. “One moment.” He closed his eyes.
The eyes that snapped open a moment later weren’t Sketchy’s. Applejack didn’t know how else to describe it. The color and shape were the same, but gone was the passive acceptance with hints of confusion. These eyes were intense, like the kind of expression Twilight got while casting a really tough spell. “Would you like the petals left white or shaded gray?”
“Very light gray,” Rarity said.
Sketchy nodded. “Would you prefer lighter shading overall, or darker?”
“Medium,” Rarity said. “I want to give the illusion of evening while still remaining completely visible.”
Another nod. Sketchy opened a large folder of sorts and drew out a big sheet of paper. “I am ready when you are.”
Rarity spared Applejack a quick smirk before loosening her robe and sliding it down just enough that it looked like it could slip off at any moment. Her expression changed too, becoming the sort of thing that teenage colts would dream about.
Sketchy picked up a pencil and got to work, adding lines here, shading there, and probably a bunch of other technical stuff that Applejack didn’t know the words to describe. His movements were simple and sure, capturing the scene on paper.
It was no surprise that Sketchy knew what he was doing. After all, drawing was his special talent, but Applejack was surprised at how well Rarity took to her role as the model. She held perfectly still, looking like she was completely relaxed, even though she barely moved or blinked.
Applejack took a seat behind Sketchy, watching over his shoulder as he worked. It was strangely hypnotic to see the lines and shapes coming together to form a picture. Every now and then, he set one pencil down and grabbed another. There was also some strange thing that looked like a pencil made of rolled-up paper. He’d rub that over parts of his drawing from time to time, smoothing out lines.
Nearly an hour passed before Sketchy set down his tools and nodded to Rarity. “Finished.”
“I can’t wait to see it.” Rarity climbed off her bed and slowly stretched out before approaching. “My,” she said, drinking in the picture before her, “it’s better than I’d imagined.”
Applejack couldn’t exactly argue with her. Sketchy’s work was so real that it felt like she could reach out and touch the sheets depicted on Rarity’s bed. He’d even made the candles in the picture seem to glow, somehow. Then there was his rendition of Rarity herself. She looked gorgeous and inviting, but also a little intimidating, as though she’d loosened her robe and was waiting to see if the viewer was stallion enough to get her the rest of the way out of it.
Sketchy shrugged and put the picture to one side. “When would you like to do the others?”
“Just give me a moment to change,” Rarity said with a smile.