//------------------------------// // III- Vows in the Night // Story: Little Scars // by take flight //------------------------------//         Rarity fidgeted with her dress, tugged at her hair, batted her eyelashes, and squirmed in her seat. Her makeup artist let out an exasperated sigh, resting a now smeared makeup palette on the ground.         “Honestly, Rarity. You’ve been sitting here for five minutes. Now tilt your head to the left, please. I’m almost finished.” Twilight maneuvered to Rarity’s cheek, nimbly applying the colored powder with deft strokes of a brush. With a flourish, she swiveled the seat around, granting Rarity a view of her full reflection.         Rarity gave a little squeak of surprise, pulling Twilight into an hug. The purple unicorn shifted awkwardly, attempting to avoid touching Rarity’s hair, which had taken ages to style.“Oh Twi, it’s lovely! Gorgeous! Where did you ever learn to such artistry?”                  The purple unicorn gave a little cough, mind wandering to the nights she played dress up with a certain princess. “Erm...natural talent?” She busied herself by clearing makeup from the crowded table. The air in the small room was damp and heavy. It had been a back shed before Applejack had it converted to a makeshift wedding prep room. A few chairs and tables rounded out the plain space. The floor was strewn with fabric scraps and leftovers from the day’s lunch.         “Then, your cutie mark should have been a mascara brush, Twilight. I could not have done a more fabulous job myself!” Rarity leaned in, examining her face more closely. Dark eyeshadow ringed her deep blue eyes, shrouding them in a grey, smokey mist. Twilght’s pale blush did not conceal the scars- Rarity had vehemently protested the idea- but rather eased the transition between the pink, shiny burns and her muted white fur. It looked natural, but unmistakably beautiful and elegant. Perfect.         “Now, stand up. Let’s see that dress. Tack hemmed it and brought the sides in a bit closer.” A young grey unicorn stood nervously in the corner, eyes flitting around the dressing room. She was Rarity’s youngest apprentice, but was immediately recognized as immensely gifted. A spool and thread adorned her otherwise plain flank.         Rarity obliged, pirouetting in front of the mirror. She and Spike had settled on simple, understated attire for the wedding. Her dress was form fitting, emblazoned with streaks of white and red. She briefly considered the traditional bridal train, but, much to Twilight’s chagrin, had deposed of it the night earlier.         With a crash, two figures burst through the door, nearly knocking the heavy wood off its hinges. Rainbow Dash shook out her mane, spraying water droplets with impunity. Rarity shrieked and dove for cover. Rolling her eyes, Applejack stepped forward. Rivulets of water ran down her body, forming a warm puddle beneath her. Rain plastered her straw yellow mane to her face.         “So apparently the weather ponies had ahn unexpected change of plans for tonight,” she said, directing the words to her companion.         “Hey!” Rainbow Dash gave her hair a last vigorous shake, spraying a final volley of water around the room. “Not my fault. That’s the last time we let the new kids use the storm generator, I’m telling you that.”         “Well, you guys can stop it, right?” asked Twilight. She stole a quick glance at the clock, brow furrowing with worry. “Quickly?” Rarity crawled out from beneath a table, her perfect hairstyle now in a crumpled disarray.         “Well, I can try. No promises, though.” Dash opened a window, revealing the howling gale outside. Fat droplets of water spilled in, drenching the rugs. She flashed Rarity a saucy look. “Afraid of getting a little bit wet?”         The unicorn harrumphed, pointedly ignoring Dash. With Twilight’s help and a bit of hairspray, she began teasing her mane back into shape. Finally, Twilight spoke. “Tack, can you run out and grab Big Mac? They should let us know if anything changed.” The unicorn ran out the room, a grey blur disappearing into the storm. “Dash, if you are so inclined to be less...destructive. There are a few things I need taken care of.” Twilight’s horn shined as specks of dust and dirt flew from Rarity’s mane, depositing themselves in a neat pile on the dresser. “Nah, I’m good.” She motioned with a toss of her head. “Apple, ya ready?” The Earth pony rolled her eyes again, but followed Dash out into the rainstorm, the door banging shut. They worked in silence for some time, Twilight neatly reprocessing Rarity’s hair, and the bride herself touching up now creased out. “So, are you excited?” asked Twilight, a smile blossoming on her face. “I still can’t believe it...” The unicorn returned her smile, the thought of Spike warming her heart. She busied herself by brushing invisible motes of dust from her hooves, brushing the soft fur until it shined. “Very much so, Twi. How quickly things have changed in the past few years. The feeling is almost... indescribable, really.” “Well, me and Luna wish you the best. I can still remember when Spike was a baby hunting for excuses to spend more time in your boutique. The good ol’ days, right?”         And there Rarity was, snuggled against Spike as the fireplace slowly dimmed, filling the room with a soft warmth. That fateful night, when the subject of conversation turned to examining their little scars. Rarity brushed her mane absently, her eyes unfocused, fixed on some point deep in her memory. “Yeah,” she murmured.         ***         The rain’s rhythm slowed, imperceptibly at first, but finally turning from a steady downpour into a light trickle. Rays of sun peeked from beyond the cloud peaks. The air smelled fresh, cleansed by the downpour. Beads of water hung glistening on the delicate petals of flowers, only to be smashed away by the mare galloping through the fields.         “Spike!” Luna called out, grimacing as a hoof landed in a puddle with a wet squelch. There was no reply from the dragon, so she entered the library, taking care to duck her head beneath the low door. Several alicorn-horn-shaped dents from past library rendezvous seemed to mock her.         She entered the library antechamber and skidded to a sudden halt, her quick mind immediately attempting to process the scene before her. Spike was wearing the half-stages of a suit, as if he had given up on dressing himself partway through. Wrinkled black slacks were buttoned messily around his waist. Tears fell from his eyes, splashing messily on the ground. He held a smooth, inky black gem, rolling it idly in his claws.         “Spike?” She took several cautious steps into the library. She had expected to find Big Mac and the rest of the groom’s entourage, but the stallions were conspicuously absent. Heavy silence hung in the air. “What is the matter?” she asked.         The dragon sighed, carefully returning the stone to a worn leather pouch. “Oh, Princess. Hi.” He flashed her a flat smile. “I’m doing quite fine. Thanks.”         “Forgive me for being so forward, but your condition, coupled with your upcoming ceremony of matrimony, makes me believe you are doing less than fine.” Luna closed the gap between them, gently nudging the dragon over as she took a seat next to him. “Now, tell auntie Luna what the problem is.”         In spite of himself, Spike managed a hoarse chuckle. He smoothed out his pants with a claw. “Today is her birthday,” he said plainly.         “Oh?”         “Except...I’m feeling anything but happy. She’s always tried to hide her age, but the thought still hangs over me. Her life is so...fragile. Short.”         Luna drew a sharp intake of breath, his words cutting into her. For first time in many centuries, she was at a loss for words. She simply sat there, enveloping the dragon in a hug.          “Every year,” he mumbled. “Every year she ages faster and faster.” His voice was flat. “How can you stand this? Outliving everypony that matters to you.”         Upon seeing the princess’s pained expression, Spike wished he could take back his words. How stupid I am. Concerning myself with these thoughts on my wedding, of all days.         But when Luna finally spoke, her voice confident and strong, her words carefully measured. “Spike,” she began. “The passing of loved ones never becomes easier, every death building upon layers of scars on my heart. For many days and nights I nurtured the same thoughts as you, continuous nightmares that ripped at my heart . I could not stand the idea of someday being alone. One of these nights, I browsed the library to ease my troubled mind. I found a dusty tome of poems. My time is probably short in the larger scheme of things, but the day is long. And that night, I resolved to end my pitiful wallowing and suffering. If a mortal pony could accept death with such simple hope and optimism, why shouldn’t I?” She nuzzled Spike, her dark mane tickling the dragon’s cheeks. “Rarity, Twilight, and everypony else- their hourglasses are minuscule compared to yours and mine. But let us appreciate the long day, and,” she added with a gentle smile, “the long night.” With a start, Luna realized that she had began to cry, drops of moisture seeping from her eyes. “Thank you so much,” Spike whispered. He glanced out the window. The last rays of the sun poked from beneath the clouds. She hugged him goodbye. The dragon sighed. There was work to be done. ***         It began with a low rumble, as if the sound emanated from the very earth. Ponies glanced around, neighing with surprise. With each successive burst of noise, the sky glowed brighter with patches of brilliant stars. At the thunderous crescendo, an array of white lights streaked through the inky night sky, splaying the field with color.         There was a brief, stunned silence, and all crowd broke into cheers and hurrahs. It was a small gathering- both Rarity and Spike had insisted on restricting the event to friends and family. However, the parapazzi were not deterred, and several pegasi fluttered overhead, snapping shots with concealed cameras.         Groves of apple trees stood in the distance, outlined by the gleaming lights of the wedding party. Applejack had suggested hosting the event in a secluded area of the farm, the land flanked by gently sloping hills and the faint scent of apple blossoms. The ceremony itself was conducted on a raised white dais that seemed to glow with an inner light. From opposite ends emerged the groom and bride. Exclamations of surprise filtered through the crowd as Rarity gently walked to the center aisle. Her purple mane was done up in loose braids that curled around her shoulders. Tiny red flowers dotted her hair, bright exclamation points that seemed to glow like embers. A simple lace veil obscured her face. Spike entered, donning a fitted suit and an expression of carefully hidden bliss. The crowd’s muttering had died away, revealing the singing crickets and gentle breeze that lent sound to the night. It had been thousands of years since Luna had been asked to deliver wedding rites. New couples had began to do away with the tradition all together, believing the entire ceremony to be too elaborate and arcane. But after weeks of insistence from both Spike and Twilight, the princess of the night relented and holed up in her office to study the precious words. She stood front and center, her starry mane billowing in the night breeze. On her face was an expression of perfect serenity and happiness. With a final flourish of her horn, the moon finally emerged from beyond the dark landscape, glowing in the night sky. “It is one of life’s richest surprises when the paths of two ponies cross and they proceed together along the common path known as husband and wife.” Silence from the crowd. Their friends and closest family occupied the front row of seats. Twilight and Fluttershy dabbed their damp eyes. Rainbow Dash yawned, only to receive Applejack’s firm elbow in her ribcage. Pinkie Pie twitched excitedly. The solar princess herself composed herself into an inscrutable expression, a small smile the only hint of emotion on her porcelain face. “The circle is regarded as symbol of the sun and moon, the cycles both our heavenly and mortal bodies follow. Let the circle become the symbol of your eternal peace and happiness.” Her horn glowed dimly as a lacquered box levitated to the center of the dais. It opened on a hinge, revealing a ring and a bracelet. Both dragon and unicorn knelt to the ground, eyes downcast. “Spike and Rarity,” intoned the alicorn. The unicorn lifted her eyes. The bracelet levitated up, revealing itself to the crowd. Fused silver ores had created a striated, shimmering grey piece of jewelry. The dragon rose to his feet. With utmost gentleness, he placed the floating bracelet around Rarity’s hoof. “I love you,” he whispered, eyes shimmering. Next was a silver ring, created in the same plain, simple style of bracelet. Rarity slipped it over Spike’s, leaning in to brush her lips over his. “May this day shine eternally. Under the loving gaze of the moon, I wish you long and happy lives.” The echo of her last words hung in the air. Spike and Rarity held each other’s gaze, eyes burning with tender emotion. They leaned in and kissed.         Like a spell had been broken, the guests erupted into cheers and applause, wiping fat tears from their cheeks. White sheets were lifted off rows of picnic tables, revealing the spectacular feast beneath. Ponies dug in with hoof and tooth, standing in circles and chatting animatedly as course after course was presented. Cider flowed freely throughout the night.         The new couple flitted from table to table, chatting and laughing, always linked in each other’s arms. Each of their friends had insisted on delivering a speech after the meal, though Rainbow Dash’s was cut short after the twelfth toast (“To Celestia’s ever shining flank!”), sparing the inebriated pegasus from more future embarrassment. After the meal, some groups dispersed to talk amongst themselves, the entire orchard lit by hanging lanterns. A renowned string quartet had began to play, but their set was cut short by the pounding bass of an arriving DJ pony. The ensuing musical battle was enough to get everypony on the dance floor.           “Great night, huh?” said Twilight, the faint scent of alcohol lingering on her breath. She tugged at her dress, the fabric moist with sweat.         And Spike couldn’t help but agree.