A nighttime gathering brings the promise of smiles and idle chatter, an inescapable web for Princess Celestia. This night, however, brings forth an opportunity for companionship she lacked since the start of her lonely reign.
A nighttime gathering brings the promise of smiles and idle chatter, an inescapable web for Princess Celestia. This night, however, brings forth an opportunity for companionship she lacked since the start of her lonely reign.
Love at first sight? Not quite. But love in a place like this? Princess Celestia can't help but think it to be a rarity.
Preread by Timaeus and Snekinabox. Cover art by silver1kunai.
Royal purple eyes tracked the tiny bubbles floating to the surface of her champagne. The arcane energies of the shimmering gold aura surrounding the glass flute played such delightful games with the sweet, pale yellow drink.
A wry smile tugged at Celestia’s lips. My mother would scold me terribly and tell me to act my age and stop playing with my drink. And Luna would laugh while pulling faces behind her.
But how exactly was a mare as old as Celestia, Princess of the Day and Herald of the Sun, meant to act when so profoundly bored? It certainly wasn’t as though she could simply will entertainment forth!
Well, she could. Typically. But not tonight. Just this once, as promised.
A thousand curses in as many tongues ran through her mind as she stood surrounded by mares and stallions, each of them dressed in smart tuxedos and splendorous dresses, every one of them doing their best to catch her attention and steal her ear about some various policies, proposals, and upcoming legislation. It was all about making friends with the right ponies—namely, herself and Luna, who had sidled off to converse with a small group of artists and musicians while Celestia entertained the nobles. A far cry from the warm, friendly affair Fancy Pants had so wanted.
This was meant to be a social gathering, not a political one.
Yet here she was.
Something needed to happen.
She scanned the crowd until she found her sister. Her beautiful starry mane and midnight blue coat stood out among the veritable sea of colorful ponies. A smile spread across her face as she watched Luna laugh and converse with Octavia Melody, a rather famed cellist, and her girlfriend, a mare of wild blue mane and eggshell white coat, who appeared to be signing something about a fish in a pitcher of tea and Octavia shrieking like a banshee.
A wonderful tale, to be sure. The Matron of the Arts was in her element at long last.
The Herald, meanwhile, found herself wishing for some excitement. Anything would do.
Why, oh why had she let Raven wheedle a promise to behave out of her? No antics, no inviting somepony along as her plus one just to “spice up the night.” No, no, her ever-faithful mare-in-waiting demanded Celestia behave while she enjoyed a night off. A well-deserved night off, truly.
Behave, she thought, her smile straining. Perhaps Raven might be my mother reincarnated. She does seem to know me better than any of the others who came before her.
Her eyes flitted about the room. Where in Equestria had Fancy disappeared to? The silly foal had invited her, after all. One could think after all those years bouncing him on her knee while discussing charity events with his mother, he would be at the side of his proverbial—ah, there he was! Chatting it up with a pair of mares. How very typical of him.
The naughty foal stood with his loving wife, Fleur de Lis, at his right side. The mare was garbed in a dress of splendid lavender with a soft pink sash that complemented her gorgeous mane around her waist. Before them was another mare with an eggshell-white coat and royal purple mane which flowed into perfect curls—a natural beauty, if Celestia could be so bold as to say. A sapphire dress which sparkled in the light flowed from her delicate shoulders like a waterfall of color and trailed off into soft silk that spilled onto the floor. It was perfect. Every detail of her beauty was highlighted by her dress. Every motion, every turn brought on another wave of sparkles across her body. Its radiance matched only by the brightness of her smile and those dazzling sapphire eyes.
Oh, by the heavens, those eyes.
Rarity had always been beautiful inside and out. But tonight …
Well, it was as though the proverbial spotlight shone down upon her. She took to it with little effort more than a toss of her mane and bell-like laugh.
Immaculate white feathers fluffed as ancient eyelids lowered into a contented, half-lidded gaze. A sense of warmth and desire filled her chest and built into a little hum in the back of her throat, the first time she’d felt like this since the first days of Canterlot’s founding. Any other evening, Celestia would have been delighted to have her company. If only they weren’t confined to such a … stuffy affair. All respect due to Fancy, of course.
An idea hit her like a bolt of lightning. The little hum deepened an octave. I only promised Raven I wouldn’t cause something to happen, she mused as she began to leave her tagalongs with an apology and excuse that she needed to speak with their host. Her eyes left Rarity for little more than an instant, but it felt far too long for her taste. All the while, the first seeds of a wonderful plan sprouted.
Never did she promise Raven not to slip away to enjoy another’s company.
Celestia escaped the crowd with practiced grace and made her way over to Fancy, Fleur, and Rarity, her golden horseshoes clicking against the tile floor with each step. She willed her feathers to unfluff and resume their relaxed state. It would hardly do to approach the group like the starstruck filly she might have been over a millennium ago. A coy smile and half-lidded eyes served as her mask. With every step, her hips swayed and turned opposite her flowing rainbow tail, a little dance she once performed so well to draw the eyes of stallions and mares the world over.
Princess or not, one could hardly fault her. She was the near-immortal ruler of her own little paradise, not dead.
“Fancy Pants, you wicked stallion,” she drawled as she snuck up behind him. Celestia allowed herself a tiny snort at the way he jolted and turned, so much like he would in his younger years. He offered a coltish smile, not one bit dimmed by the test of time. “You invite me to a party only to slip away and leave me surrounded. What ever would your mother say?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “My mother would no doubt chide me for leaving your side,” Fancy replied with a twinkle in his eye. “However, I should note that a stallion can hardly be faulted for wishing to speak with his wife and entertain a dear friend. I understand you know Miss Rarity quite well.”
“Quite well indeed. I do believe she has saved our land alongside my former student enough times that I may call us friends.”
On cue, Rarity dipped into a curtsey. “You’re far too kind, Princess,” she demurred in contrast to the gleam in those sapphire eyes. “I’m but a humble dressmaker who creates what she believes to bring out the best in her customers. I should hardly dare to call us friends, lest the public think me to be some sort of social climber.” A champagne flute wrapped in a bubbling sapphire glow floated to her lips. “I like to think I learned my lesson from years passed.”
Ah, the games of socialites. Really, Celestia found them tiresome at worst, but with those few she knew well enough, they could be so much more. Wordplay and trickery was a game she and Luna had so loved in their fillyhood days.
“True, but as we both know, ponies will always gossip.” Celestia gave a warm smile. “And from what I hear, you do enjoy such things yourself, no?”
Rarity had the grace to raise a hoof in imitation of a fencer’s salute. “True, true.”
“Then I, at least, consider us friends. Regardless of the gossip it may cause.”
At Fancy’s side, Fleur trilled a note. “Perhaps we might allow you two a moment to converse in private, non?” she offered with a sly smile. “If our guests see the four of us together, it will be mere minutes before we are all surrounded.”
Fancy took a moment to adjust his monocle. “Indeed, my love. If you’ll excuse us, Princess—” he bowed to her, then offered a slightly lesser one to Rarity “—Miss Rarity.”
Celestia assented with a nod, smiling as the young colt she once watched over trotted away with his wife close by his side. “That colt,” she said loud enough for Rarity to hear, “hasn’t changed a bit in all the years I’ve known him. Age aside, of course.”
“Oh?” Rarity tittered. “Pray tell, just what was he like at my age? Or younger, dare I ask? I imagine quite the popular colt with the fillies with his silver tongue.”
“You’ve no idea. Many fillies tried to win his attention, but he only ever had eyes for one.” She nodded in the direction of Fleur de Lis. “Would you believe it if I told you that Fleur would scarcely give him the time of day when they first met?”
“No! Why, they’re the perfect couple!”
A laugh bubbled forth from Celestia’s chest. “Today, yes, but it took him quite a bit of effort to win her favor. She thought him some fool who saw nothing but skin-deep beauty in a young model. But, eventually, she found his affections and attention had only some focus on her appearance.” The corners of her mouth twitched. “He loved her wit, even when directed at him. Especially so, I think.”
Rarity let out another bell-like laugh, a sweet sound that filled Celestia’s ears and brought that warm feeling back again. “Oh, dear, he really hasn’t changed then! She still chides him like a foal!”
“I believe it. As I said, little has changed.” Celestia paused to sip at her champagne. “How have you enjoyed the party?”
To her surprise, Rarity’s smile faltered a touch. “It isn’t quite what I expected when Fancy mentioned a social event,” she replied carefully, as if worried she might offend Fancy Pants with the mere notion. “It seems a bit more reminiscent of …”
“The first Gala you attended?” Celestia supplied.
Rarity’s cheeks tinged a dusty pink. “I was trying to find a way to put it delicately.”
“There’s no need for that. I was thinking much the same thing myself.” With a sigh, she took a step to her left so her face was shielded from her ponies, and leveled Rarity with a tired gaze. “Might I confide in you a moment?”
The younger mare blinked. “I … I suppose that would be all right, Princess,” Rarity replied slowly. “How might I help?”
Celestia cast a fervent glance around the room. “I was hoping for something a little different as well, something a bit less formal so I could actually talk with ponies rather than the usual fare. Not that I hold anything against the, ah, nobility, but …” Another sigh and shake of her head. “I suppose what I mean to ask, if I could stop beating around the bush for a minute—something of a habit at such events, I fear.”
“A function of talking at such events,” Rarity countered with a smile.
Snorting, Celestia nodded. “True enough. What I mean to ask, quite simply, is whether you might like to find somewhere else to talk.”
Those gorgeous sapphire eyes blinked back at her, confusion written plain upon her face. “You mean leave?” Rarity glanced nervously in the direction Fancy and Fleur had trotted off to. “Won’t they be offended?”
“Hardly. Fancy will at most ask us to dine with him in a more private setting.” She waved Rarity off. “And I know just the pony who owes me several times over for covering for past absences.” Pausing in thought a moment, she coughed and glanced down at her flute. “If you wish, of course.”
For a moment, Rarity hesitated. She bit her bottom lip and gave her tail a nervous little flick. Her ears drooped, then perked up. The left one flicked toward the crowd as a wave of laughter sounded behind Celestia. Fancy was in his element, no doubt, entertaining his public.
And, coincidentally, leaving them the chance to stand together and chat for a moment, and plan a possible escape into Canterlot nightlife.
She could see the conflict in Rarity’s eyes. On one hoof, her desire to be a good guest and enjoy the company of the Canterlot elite she once so longed to be a part of, the same ponies who had, and in some cases soon would, be her clientele at her Canterlot Boutique. But on the other …
Rarity could dress and tidy herself up all she liked, but she was a Ponyville mare. A Ponyville mare who loved to spend time with her friends and loved ones. In general, she was a mare who knew how to enjoy a good time, albeit of a bit more refined nature. Though with her tastes, Canterlot was the right place for such a thing.
Celestia couldn’t help but try to sweeten the deal. “There is a rather lovely Mexicolt restaurant overlooking the city from the edge of Platinum Park. Have you ever heard of La Joya de la Montaña?”
Those alabaster ears perked. “That’s supposed to be one of the best restaurants in Canterlot!” she gasped, earning a nod of assent. “But that … Princess, if I might, they’ll be filled wall to wall with reservations at this hour!”
“True,” Celestia mused with a playful rustle of her wings. A sense of giddiness filled her chest with butterflies. “Unless you’ve known the proprietary family since its founding and have a table permanently set aside, of course.”
A bright grin spread across Rarity’s face, lighting up Celestia’s world in ways she only wished her sun could. “Well, with such a generous invitation and wonderful company—” she paused to drain the last remnants of her champagne, then set it down atop a tray held by a passing waiter “—how can I refuse?”
If ever a pony could glow like the sun, Celestia would wager her crown she could take wing and brighten the night sky by her lonesome. Placing her own flute atop the water’s tray, she turned to lead Rarity out of the ballroom. Her eyes, meanwhile, found Luna.
Her little sister looked over at that very instant, as if she could sense Celestia searching her out. Teal eyes met royal purple and held a silent gaze for a mere few seconds.
Then Celestia glanced to Rarity and back, flicking her right ear. Their little sign.
The corners of Luna’s mouth twitched. She inclined her head a mere fraction of a hint, the return sign. Permission granted.
Celestia resumed her silent escape, humming as Rarity’s shoulder brushed against her leg. The younger mare had to nearly jog to keep up with her brisk canter. As they passed Fancy and his guests, she made eye contact with him and gave the same signal she’d given Luna.
His eyes widened and flitted between herself and Rarity. An amused smile made its way to his lips and his eyes shone with mirth as he inclined his head in reply, just like Luna. However, he mouthed a single word. The same she used to mouth when he would slip away with Fleur:
“Behave.”
Behave? Her?
Celestia waited until she was just about to disappear behind the wall, then stuck out her tongue.
Behave.
The very nerve of that colt. She was older than Canterlot itself!
She would misbehave to her heart’s content if she damn well pleased.
La Joya de la Montaña had been owned by Salsa Ranchera’s family since her six or seven-times great grandmother, Salsa Verde, first opened it in the fourth century of Celestia’s solo reign over Equestria.
It was decorated in traditional Mexicolt design—beige walls with figures from the famed Manada del Sol’s beautiful culture painted upon the walls, flowers of vibrant pink, crimson, and soft blues filled the hanging planters and spilled out as if reaching down to tease the patrons’ manes. A lovely balcony with black metal railing overlooked the city, a showcase of beautiful lights that made it an almost perfect spot to dine with good company. The four tables outside were occupied already, of course. There were a premium. Nearly impossible to reserve.
Nearly, unless you happened to know the family. The balcony was only almost perfect by virtue of the private balcony accessible only when Salsa unlocked the polished wooden door and led Celestia and whomever she deigned to dine with down the short hallway, passed all the pictures and paintings of family members past and living, then left through the wrought iron gate and onto the stone floor of the balcony itself. At the center of the balcony, directly atop the image of her blazing sun painted into the stone some century or so ago, stood a circular table big enough for two and a pair of cushioned chairs she knew to be far more comfortable than her own throne.
All in all, it felt like home, like she was in her own suite in the castle, but with her favorite view in all the land.
Rarity took the seat opposite her with a flourish and an elegant sweep of her dress. The curls of her tail bobbed with the move, drawing Celestia’s eye.
Another appreciative hum built in her chest as she took her own. She muttered their drink orders to Salsa Ranchera out of the side of her mouth, then turned to Rarity. “Would you like to see a menu, or would you prefer I order for both of us?”
A glint shone in Rarity’s eyes. “I’m curious as to what you might recommend. This was, after all, your suggestion, Princess.”
Princess. So formal. Celestia flicked her tail. That would have to be taken care of in short order. With a single nod, she turned to relay her usual order to Salsa: chips and salsa for an appetizer, then winter squash enchiladas for the main course. For dessert, well, they would have to see about dessert.
One or two things come to mind, she thought as Salsa bowed and turned to walk away. After Salsa returned with drinks and assurances that their food would be ready shortly, she left once more and left them alone to enjoy their evening together.
Alone at last with proper company. In the form of a beautiful mare, no less. Celestia felt like a filly all over again.
Wreathing her cup in her magic, she brought it to her lips, savoring the taste of true Mexicolt alcohol. “Have you ever dined at a Mexicolt restaurant, Rarity?” she asked. “Not a particularly intuitive question, but I am a curious mare.”
Rarity shook her head as she raised her own glass, eyeing it a moment. “I can’t say I have, Princess. My tastes typically trend toward the Prench or Istallion cuisine. On occasion, I do enjoy Neighponese food as well.”
“Istallion? Ah, perhaps we could dine at Cavalcanter’s together another night. He—well, they have the best sauces I’ve ever tasted outside of Istallia itself and Cadence’s cooking. If you find it agreeable, of course.”
“Cavalcanter’s too?” the mare practically purred. Her eyelids drooped, she fixed Celestia with a teasing, half-lidded look that made her pristine feathers twitch. “Why, Princess, if you keep throwing such names out, I’ll simply swoon! Don’t tell me you have private tables at all the well-to-do restaurants across the land?”
Celestia laughed and shook her head. “I’m sure if I wanted, I could have them upon request, but no. Only the older ones here.” With a shrug of her shoulders, she finished off the last of her drink, then set it aside. Salsa would be back with a couple glasses of tea once the food came out. She knew Celestia limited her alcohol in public. “They’ve served as my favored dining spots over many, many centuries. And I suppose there is a measure of gratitude since I was the one who allotted the properties for business back then. Now it’s up to the municipalities.”
Humming, Rarity sipped at her drink. “I see. Well, I suppose that only makes sense. It’s a similar feeling to how Ponyville hurries to prepare everything for your visits, and how the Apple Family is particularly insistent on making sure everything is perfect.”
A snort escaped before Celestia could bring it under control. “True. I will say, I don’t think I’ve ever had my drink filled so quickly before or since Mrs. Cake served me tea. How is she?”
“Quite well, though a bit more busy now that she’s raising twins. Pinkie Pie has been helping her out quite a lot in that, though, so I believe they’ve managed to balance things.”
“Ah, parenting. Always a challenge ponies overlook until it comes to be their time.” A teasing smile played upon her lips. “I will confess, I long looked forward to seeing my niece share the struggle of a foal of her own power. Raising her after the adoption was no easy task.”
“Oh?” Rarity tilted her head. “How so?”
Celestia arched a brow. “You have a little sister, I believe. Has she ever used her magic out of anger? Or to get her way?” At Rarity’s nod, she smiled. “Imagine an alicorn with Cadence’s talent losing control because of a bout of temper, then imagine how difficult it was for her to learn it after she spent her formative years as a pegasus, where wearing one’s heart on their shoulder has been the way since before Commander Hurricane’s days.”
A shudder ran through the younger mare’s body. Rarity shook her head. “Forgive me, but I don’t envy either of you.”
“There’s no need. I don’t envy her. Just know that all parental and familial curses are real.” Celestia grinned and waggled her ears. “I told Cadence she would have one just like her. Now that she has, I get to play doting great-aunt and watch her deal with alicorn-sized foal tantrums. The debt has been paid with interest, as it were.”
To her surprise, Rarity leaned in, grinning wickedly. “I don’t suppose you put the same such—ah—curse on Twilight?”
Celestia shook her head. “Heavens no. Twilight was perfectly well-behaved while under my tutelage. Besides—” she raised her brows “—Cadence was an orphan whom I adopted. Far be it from me to take the sacred right of the parental curse from Night Light and Twilight Velvet, regardless of how close to family I may be.”
“Well, you technically are now that Princess Cadence has married Shining Armor, Princess.”
“Ah.” She raised her hoof in return to the gesture from earlier. “Fair point, yes. I suppose I could if she weren’t so well behaved. That aside, there is one issue I feel we must address.”
Rarity blinked. “What might that be?”
“Call me Celestia.”
Again, the mare blinked. “Pardon?”
Celestia leaned in close. “Call me Celestia,” she said slowly, carefully annunciating each syllable. “I invited you to dinner because I wanted to spend time with you as Celestia and Rarity—” she ignored her feathers’ fluffing “—not as princess and subject. We had enough of that back at the party, I think.”
For the second time that evening, Celestia could see conflicting sides war behind Rarity’s eyes. This time, however, she made no move to sweeten any deal or sway Rarity’s decision.
All she did was smile and wait, and watch as those pearly white cheeks tinged rosy red.
So good to know that giving permission for a mare to forgo my title is as flattering now as it was when I last courted.
Slowly, hesitantly, Rarity nodded. She bit her bottom lip as if to hide a smile, more the picture of a filly before a crush than the refined beauty of a mare she truly was. “Okay,” she said softly, the tips of her ears turned the same shade of red as her cheeks, “Celestia.”
Celestia did her best to limit her joy to a small satisfied smile. At last. “You see? Isn’t that better?”
At that moment, Salsa returned with a tray ladened with two cups of iced tea and chips and salsa. The scents of tomatoes, peppers, and spices brought forth a contented smile. Good food and good company always went well together.
After a lovely dinner at La Joya, Celestia invited Rarity on a walk through the Royal Gardens. To her delight, the mare accepted with a gleam in her eyes and a bright smile.
“I heard the gardens were quite lovely this time of year,” Rarity said as they entered, her eyes wandering about freely to take in the literal rainbow of colors displayed by the warm glow of flickering torchlight.
Tulips, marigolds, violets, bluebells, snapdragons, roses of white, red, and pink, carnations, tiger lilies, even Luna’s favored night lilies surrounded them on their walk. Celestia’s eyes, however, were not on the lovely flowers or friendly birds and woodland creatures who scuttled about in the branches of oak trees far older than Ponyville, peeking out to look at the new visitor to their home. They all seemed to relax when they noticed how closely she walked beside their most frequent visitor over the years, a sentiment shared by the princess herself.
Each brush of delicate shoulder against her leg, or hip against her thigh sent tingles across her skin. Every brush of the regal curls of her purple mane and wafting of sweet vanilla perfume made her feathers twitch and fluff. Each accidental brush of her tail, a flirt against alabaster thighs, coaxed a sharp breath and swish of ethereal rainbow tail, and a sway of her hips.
Oh, by the heavens, it had been more than an age since the last.
But Celestia played it “cool,” as the young ponies would say. Though her heart fluttered like a filly for her first crush, she kept her strides even and the hint of an airy tremble out of her voice as she replied, “I would wholeheartedly agree. I find myself visiting more often when dealing with particularly vexing matters of state, or preparing for a visit from our … friends from Yakyakistan.”
The comment drew a laugh. “Oh, goodness! Not a fan of the, er, charming ambassador?”
Celestia stopped in her tracks, turning slowly to fix her with a flat stare. The image was ruined by the slightest twitch at the right corner of her mouth. “Would you like to host the Yak delegation in my stead?” she drawled.
“I’m afraid I must respectfully decline,” Rarity replied without missing a beat. A bead of sweat rolled down her cheek and fell to stain her lovely dress. Her smile was practically plastic. “Nothing against our friends from the distant north, but I have very delicate fabrics, materials, and tools around my boutique, and I couldn’t possibly expect them to alter their … er …” she trailed off, her ears alternated between drooping and standing up straight as if to hide her discomfort. “Unique culture.”
“Then you understand my struggle.” With a chuckle, she steered Rarity left at the fork in the path, leading her along the hedge grove and through a trail framed by stone statues of Equestria’s heroes and heroines long passed. Heading in the direction of their goal. “Have you enjoyed your visit?”
Rarity glanced up, a genuine smile returned to grace her beautiful face once more. “Though the party wasn’t quite what I expected and the evening wasn’t at all what I planned, yes.” Her tail swished merrily. “I’ve quite enjoyed this. It reminds me a lot of that evening you joined us at Pony Joe’s. After the Gala.”
“Ah, yes. That was quite the evening.” She chuckled at the memory. Six miserable mares and one bored drake sitting in that tiny doughnut shop, trying to bury their sorrows beneath a mountain of sugar. “I must say, I have enjoyed seeing your ensembles make their way to Canterlot since then. Your work certainly has grown over the years, though I must say I found your pieces from that evening to be among my favorites.”
“Really?” Her ears perked. “Which were your favorites?”
“Oh, well, I am biased toward my student, so we’ll exclude her just this once.” Casting a sly wink, she continued, “I must say, I found the color scheme for yours quite intriguing.”
Those pearly white ears twitched. Eagerness shone naked in her eyes. “Might I ask why?”
“Of course. While I do love the sapphire dress you’ve made for yourself tonight, and I daresay purple would have heads turning for the chance to glimpse your beauty as you trotted by …” she trailed off to smile at Rarity and savor the returning rosy hue in those cheeks. Oh, and right across her nose as well. Then she tossed her mane and tilted her head back, gazing at Rarity out of the corner of her eye. “I found the choice fuschia and cream yellow color palate quite interesting. Innovative, of course, as one would expect purple or blue, but I found your Gala dress did a wonderful job in highlighting the care you put into brushing your coat and the way light seemed to caress your mane like silk.”
If the little blush Rarity had sported before was cute, the way it bloomed across her face and spread down her neck, to her very collarbone was positively delightful. Celestia threw back her head and laughed, unfurling her right wing just enough to offer a comforting caress of downy feathers.
It had been far too long since she’d felt like this. Far too long since she’d had so much fun.
They crossed a small wooden bridge that stood over the narrow mouth leading from a bubbling fountain and charmingly innovative filtration system into the crown jewel of the gardens—in her humble opinion, at least. The pond.
The lazy glow of a single torch bathed a dozen or so feet of water in a warm orange light. While not as widely known, Celestia loved to come out and spend a few quiet moments each day with her fish friends. Philomena adored them as well, sometimes chasing them around, swooping over the water as if to snatch one out, and trilling out her song as they darted this way and that, like she was herding them into an underwater rainbow for Celestia’s benefit.
Though, knowing Philomena, that could well be the case.
Tonight, there was no Philomena. Only herself and Rarity, and a small pond full of fish from the tiniest of minnows nibbling in the shallows, to the quartet of ancient and gorgeous koi, the crown gem of her little paradise.
A short distance away, there was a swirl of water and merry splash, then a flash of orange-red and white scales as one came near the surface to get a look at their visitors.
Rarity let out a gasp, a hoof leapt to cover her mouth. “Is that …”
“Koi from the Sea of Neighpon? Yes.” Celestia gestured for Rarity to join her in sitting on the soft grass just a short trot from the bank. “They were a gift from an old friend nearly thirty years ago.”
“Thirty years? Really?” Rarity leaned forward to peer into the depths of the pond. Her brows knitted together and ears swiveled forward. “I had heard tell that koi could live for great lengths of time, but isn’t that a bit long for a fish?”
“Koi have been known to live incredibly long lives. I believe there was a story once of a koi in a rather important governor’s private pond—his name escapes me—which lived to see one hundred. Another, I recall, was owned by Minister Suzumebachi. She claimed it had been with her family for two hundred before it finally passed on.”
“Two hundred years? My word!”
Chuckling, Celestia nodded. “Indeed. Quite the impressive feat.” She peered into the water, a wry smile playing upon her lips as she noticed the koi settling just at the edge of the shallows, lazily drifting back and forth. “It seems they’re giving us a little space. But curious enough to investigate.”
Rarity hummed. “A pity. I was curious to see them a little more closely. Although …” She leaned closer, an odd glint shone in her eyes. “Their scales are such a lovely shade, like fire, actually.”
Celestia stayed silent, watching as Rarity considered the koi for a moment, then slowly turned to gaze back at her. Then back to the pond.
“Oh, come now.” Celestia nudged Rarity’s shoulder with the edge of her wing. “Don’t hold me in suspense. Share your thoughts. We’re talking as Celestia and Rarity tonight, remember?”
A nervous smile tugged at Rarity’s lips, but disappeared after an instant. Her ears flicked. “I was just thinking,” she said, a touch of hesitance in her tone, “that you would look positively—” she swallowed “—positively radiant. In that color. More radiant than the sun itself.”
It had been far too long since the last time another mare made butterflies flutter in her chest, or made her cheeks flush at some praise. Practically an eternity.
Another lifetime.
Celestia leaned in close so their noses nearly touched. Her feathers trailed across Rarity’s back, coaxing a shuddering gasp from those soft lips as she wrapped a wing around her shoulders. “I’m afraid,” she whispered, “there is already a mare more radiant than the sun. However …” She tilted her head to the side and parted her lips, her eyelids fluttered closed in almost perfect synch with Rarity’s.
Those soft lips pressed against hers. She dared to trail her tongue along them, moving to cup Rarity’s cheeks. A tingle of pleasure danced beneath her coat, billowed into a full wave her belly and sent a warmth beneath her tail which spurred a sensuous swish. The tip teased Rarity’s thigh.
Rarity gasped into the kiss. Her back arched and ears slowly pinned back as she melted into it, opening her mouth to invite Celesita’s tongue into a sensuous, entwining dance within. Every inch was explored, both prodded, teased, and massaged until the smaller mare practically pressed herself against Celestia’s belly and threw her hooves around her neck.
They parted, panting for breath. Their eyes locked with one another as slow, satisfied smiles spread across their faces.
“Where were you planning on staying this evening?” Celestia asked, nuzzling her nose.
Sapphire eyes fluttered shut. “F-Fancy invited me to stay in his home.”
Such a generous colt. Celestia kissed her nose. “I’ll send word to him. You can stay with me tonight.” Her voice dipped an octave. “In my room, if you would like.”
It had been far too long since her last. Far too long since she held a blushing, squirming lover in her embrace.
Warm sunlight flowed into the room, across the soft pink carpet until it crept across the magnificent plush bed and regal purple covers like a river of gold. It touched upon the slumbering young mare’s delicate, pearl white shoulders, teasing her ears with its breath as it whispered phantom tidings and bade her awaken.
Rarity’s want to steal a few moments more of blissful sleep voiced itself in a sleepy murmur. She turned away, burying her snout in the pillow as she had done so often when her mother came to rouse her for school, chasing away those wonderful fillyhood dreams. Of course, back then those dreams had been about dashing princes.
The last had been different. Oh, so delightfully different.
She willed herself to hold onto this one with every fiber of her being. Just this once. A little while longer before she had to rise to work.
It was just to perfect to allow to slip free into the aether, or wherever such fanciful things disappeared when they left her mind’s eye. A wonderful night, a perfect night spent with a mare of beauty spoken of only in the hushed whispers of stricken admirers, or depicted by poets and painters who plied their best efforts to capture a mere inkling of her splendor. All had been in vain. But who could blame them?
Who could dare hope to touch that of the mare who shone like the very sun she raised?
But a dream was all it was and ever would be. So much like that silly want to be wooed by a noblestallion she held onto from her fillyhood days, one she could happily say had been buried after a couple unfortunate attempts to snag attention. Rarity would just have to wait until the day somepony, mare or stallion, turned their eyes her way.
Celestia whisking her off from one of Fancy Pants' parties, indeed. Rarity let loose sigh, one part disappointment, two parts derisive. She was doing it again. Letting her mind conjure up some flight of fancy, like a little filly. She was home, in her own bed, not sleeping in Canterlot Castle, let alone Princess Celestia's private suite.
No matter what the dream suggested.
Still. It had been … so lovely. Especially that little moment where she could’ve sworn she felt a gentle snout nuzzle into the crook of her neck, warm breath ghosting over her coat as soft lips trailed fluffy kisses along it, up her cheek until the Princess of Day whispered, “Sunrise, dear. I’ll be back in just a moment.”
A shiver ran down her spine at the thought, her lips tugged into a contented smile as a want to hold onto that feeling rose above all others. Oh, how she could live in that moment forever!
Oh, if only.
Regrettably, life didn’t often allow for such things. With a heavy sigh, Rarity surrendered to the unyielding light of the morning sun and made to rise and begin her routine. A nice, warm bath would help her get started. Even if it was but a momentary substitute for the warmth of Celestia’s embrace and lovely bed.
At least, that had been the plan.
As she made to rise, Rarity noticed something wrapped around her barrel—two somethings, actually. One, she could only guess to be a pony’s foreleg by the feel of velvety smooth coat tickling against her own and the firm hoof’s edge teasing against her belly. The other, however, was what she could only describe as the most gorgeous wing she had ever laid eyes on. Its soft, downy feathers seemed to trail a sensation of electricity beneath her skin as the limb tightened and pulled her backward, back until she felt her shoulders press against the pony’s broad chest as their free hoof snaked its way around her as well.
Then she felt a warm snout press against the back of her neck, and soft lips plant a kiss upon the base that coaxed forth a quivering breath and sensuous arching of her back. “Trying to slip away, Rarity?” Celestia’s familiar voice whispered in her ear, her tone one of affectionate mischief. “It’s been some time since my last one night romp, but I can’t say I’m not a bit hurt.”
Rarity froze, her eyes shot open. The events of the night before flashed before her eyes. Slowly, her jaw fell open. “I … wasn’t dreaming?” she murmured.
Celestia chuckled and kissed just beneath her ear. “I should hope not. Otherwise, I’ll have to speak with Luna about dream melding.” Rarity felt her shrug her shoulders, then lean down to nose against her cheek. “But given that I’m not so old and dusty that I can’t remember what it feels like to hold a lover in my embrace in the morning, I think I’m quite content.” She planted a kiss on Rarity’s cheek, gently coaxing her to roll with an expert nudge of her hoof. “Confident.” A sudden nip drew a squeal. Rarity squeezed her eyes shut, she felt the older mare shift and raise off the mattress so she could lay flat upon her back. Another low chuckle preceded a slow lick to her snout, she cracked her eyelids just enough to behold her the amorous princess.
The love shone in those ancient purple eyes made her heart flutter, her breath hastened as Celestia nuzzled a slow circle around her nose.
“That all of this,” she continued huskily, “is quite real, and I am most grateful for it.”
Pearl white ears twitched. Rarity had to fight to keep the biggest, goofiest grin off her face, but she couldn’t help but allow her tail to swish. Oh, heavens! She licked her lips. “Then we …” She drank in a deep breath and forced herself to speak. “Then are we …” Words failed her. There simply was no way to lend voice to her question.
Fortunately, Celestia had no such trouble. With a smile so radiant it could’ve warmed even the deepest, darkest cave, she dotted Rarity’s nose with a kiss. “I would be delighted for us to be, yes. If you shared my feelings.”
Perhaps not the sweeping romantic proclamation of her favorite novels, but more than enough to bring a light dusting of pink to her alabaster cheeks and break her feeble will to withhold that smile. Her tail lashed, the splendorous curls, matted and unkempt after a night of cuddling and romancing before they finally slept, ghosted against her ankle.
She swallowed a lump which had formed in the back of her throat. “I—I would certainly like to see where things might progress, as it were.”
“Then yes.” Celestia beamed, fluffing her magnificent white feathers, the very visage of perfection, even in the early morning hours before she had the chance to bathe and ready herself for the day. She lowered herself down to rest atop Rarity, propping herself up on her elbows. “I do believe we are.”
Rarity spread her legs wide to accommodate the alicorn’s larger form. A flurry of images rushed through her mind as she felt their coats brush against one another and those voluptuous hips settle between her thighs, the pink dusting in her cheeks deepened, the burn spread like wildfire to the very nape of her neck. Tentatively, she dared to wrap her hooves around Celestia’s neck in a loose embrace, then leaned up, her lips parted in a silent plea for a sweet kiss. Just like those they shared the night before.
With a low hum, Celestia sealed their lips together, her hooves trailed up to cup the younger mare’s cheeks. Her tongue teased and probed along Rarity’s lips, expertly probing along until she surrendered to allow entrance.
A mewl built within her chest and gave itself voice, muffled by their mouths. Rarity tilted her head back, pressing herself against the pillow and letting her eyes slowly flutter shut as she let herself submit to the sweet taste and sensuous prodding and massaging, expert ministrations of a mare with untold experience loving and being loved. A flirt of her tail against Rarity’s rear and deft teasing of feathers along her sides spurred forth a heady squeal and jerky roll of her hips.
When they parted, it seemed all too soon. A thin strand of drool lingered, connecting their lips until Celestia smiled at Rarity again and leaned in, slowly licking her lips. A veritable flock of butterflies danced took flight in her belly.
“As much as I would love to enjoy the benefits of spending a lazy morning in bed with a beautiful mare, last night was quite spontaneous on both our parts.” Celestia sighed, settling back upon her elbows. However, her smile didn’t falter an inch. “Would you care to join me for breakfast?”
“I would be delighted,” the words spilled forth from Rarity’s lips before she even realized. Her cheeks coloring, she hid a nervous smile behind her hoof and gave a shaky chuckle. “I—I mean, yes. Of course.”
“Wonderful. But first … an idea.” The teasing gleam in Celestia’s eyes told her the little slip hadn’t gone unnoticed. After another gentle peck to her nose, the Princess of Day rose, slowly sliding off of Rarity, the tips of her feathers tracing playfully over her belly while that ethereal tail flirted beneath her chin. She circled around the bed, her hooves struck out a confident cadence against the tile floor as she made for the door. Her pace slowed, Celestia glanced over her shoulder and aimed a smirk at the younger mare as she put a little sway in her hips.
A sway which made Rarity’s ears stand ramrod straight and eyes linger on that immaculate derriere. The tip of her tongue ran along her top lip of its own volition, a swish of that gorgeous prismatic tail stoked a fire beneath throughout her face and neck, and deep within her belly.
Those ancient purple eyes held her fixed in place with a hooded, smoldering gaze.
“I like to think a warm bath is a perfect way to start the day. “ Celestia let out a purr the likes of which would send mares and stallions alike prancing to her side. Her horn flashed brilliant gold, she tugged the door open to reveal an opulent bathroom decorated with white marble, glittering metallic gold fixtures, and soft purple towels and bath rugs covering the white tile floor. “Won’t you join me?”
Rarity hurried out of bed, yelping and muttering a curse when she found her hooves entangled with the silken sheets. A musical giggle from her princess, her lover caressed and tickled her ears. She flicked her tail, then took a breath and tossed the messy tresses of her regal purple mane over her shoulder and trotted over to Celestia’s side. Only her many years of practice served to aid her in preserving some semblance of her usual coy smile aimed in return.
Those ancient purple eyes sparkled with mirth and affection, which earned a puff of Rarity’s cheeks.
She may have taken the initiative, the young designer thought, her mind working a mile a minute to craft out a little plan of her own, but princess or not, I won’t just stand passively and be wooed. It’s high time I found some way to return the favor.
The pleasant tickle of feathers ghosting over her back as Celestia wrapped a wing around her shoulder chased those thoughts to the back of her mind. Such plans could wait until afterward.
Her immediate future involved a warm bath spent in close company with a wonderful mare.
Bathing with Celestia was much the dream of intimacy Rarity had fashioned for herself as a filly all those years ago. Oh, certainly, those dreams typically involved some dashing stallion with a toned body chiseled from stone, a strong jaw, and mighty hooves which seemed to touch her with reverence, an act of restraint taken as if she were made of glass. But, as she grew older, some of those trended toward lovely mares as well. A curiosity, at the time.
A dream, more like. One she could say she was living out in real time.
Those hooves were mighty, enough to shatter mountains, yet gentle enough to shape and guide a nation into an age of peace and prosperity, and hold a mare so closely. Her magic was warm, betraying the underlying heat of the very sun she could raise with ease, and the fires she commanded, but not once did it scorch a hair of Rarity’s coat as it guided washcloth, sponge, and brush to caress and clean her form. Wings powerful enough to whip up tornadoes and destroy hurricanes had wrapped around her, holding her flush against Celestia’s chest as those immaculate feathers scooped water and trickled it over her dampened mane.
And those lips …
A shiver of want ran down her spine. It felt oddly selfish to want more when she so often felt those soft kisses pressed into her neck, her shoulder, her cheek, and atop her head.
Afterward, naturally, came breakfast. A lovely affair spent at a small table, only just big enough for the two of them to dine together. A meal of delectable, fresh fruit, violet petals, pancakes, and orange juice awaited, followed by a nice cup of Earl Neigh tea, the perfect blend to start any day. For the most part, it was spent in a sort of understood quiet. Not as though Celestia or she simply refused to speak, but that there was just … no need.
Instead, they were content to hold one another in their gazes and smile. Mutual appreciation, if Rarity had to put words to it. A mutual appreciation for a mare so resplendent, it seemed a work of fantasy that she was even fit to behold such a visage in the early hours of the morning, let alone any dream her mind might craft.
And, unless her eyes did deceive her, the same thoughts were reflected in each of the princess’s lingering gazes. Those which she caught, of course.
Oh, did she ever hope those thoughts were shared. No matter how vain it might be to dare wish it so.
What mare didn’t long to be wanted by her lover, after all?
The end came all too soon for her liking. Their plates were cleaned and set upon the waiting cart. Rarity made sure to follow Celestia’s cue and give her sincerest compliments to the staff pony, a rather dashing stallion dressed in a black vest and blue bowtie, before he bowed and removed the dishes from their presence, leaving the two mares to share one last moment together.
Celestia’s smile seemed to falter a touch. She sighed, her ears drooping a millimeter as she rose from her seat and beckoned Rarity to follow with a rustle of her left wing. “If I could push Court back an hour without causing some fuss among the upper crust, I would do it with gladness this morning,” she said with a longing skyward gaze. Then she turned and let her eyes fall upon Rarity once more, a small, fond smile tugged at her lips. “Another time, I should think.”
Rarity returned her smile as she rose and circled around the table slowly, putting a little hint of a sway in her hips, payback for that little show she’d been given earlier. That her efforts earned a rather notable twitch of those beautiful white ears nearly made her squeal with delight. Practice and sheer will enabled her to maintain her calm smile and say, “Well, if I’m to be invited back again—”
“Do I need to say so explicitly?” Celestia asked, amused.
The younger mare fluttered her lashes, pressing her cheek against Celestia’s shoulder. “A mare does love knowing she’s wanted by her lover.”
A snort came in reply. “Touché. In that case …” A golden-shoed hoof cupped Rarity’s chin, the cool touch of metal playing teasing sensations over her coat as Celestia caressed her gently. “Another time, another night, I would love to have you here again, and would happily send for you rather than ask you to spend bits on train fare.” She leaned in close, enough that her lips brushed against Rarity’s like the touch of butterfly wings. “Won’t you consider my offer?”
Vows not to mewl be damned, Rarity nearly melted in her hooves then and there. Worse, her tongue betrayed her, a squeaky “Yes” escaped her lips before she could even think of a fitting reply to keep some semblance of coyness.
What little could remain after the previous night.
“Wonderful,” Celestia purred. With a deft flick of shimmering magic, she tugged the door open to allow them passage out into the hall. Her wing stayed wrapped tight around Rarity’s shoulders as she guided the mare from the room and turned right down the corridor. “I suppose I’ll be selfish this morning and ask that you accompany me to Court. Or, rather, to the hallway.” She cast a wink at Rarity, adding, “I think it a bit too early to ask that you suffer a full day of tedium with me when you could explore the castle.”
Rarity blinked. Now, there was an idea! “Er, how much of the castle?”
“Well, I would advise avoiding the east wing. Renovations. And where Luna keeps the dungeons, if you ask naughty foals’ mothers. Otherwise, and save perhaps for Luna’s chambers, I should think you’re more than welcome to wander wherever you please.”
A chance to explore the castle without restriction?
Her brows nearly disappeared beneath her bangs. Today promised to be quite an event indeed.
It was hardly the first time Rarity had stepped hoof in Canterlot Castle, but it never failed to steal her breath away.
Whether it was the bleached marble walls or the splendorous stained glass windows casting a rainbow of colors, or the countless works of master artists and sculptors gracing its hallways, there was always something that grabbed her attention and demanded she stop to appraise it an extra moment. And each time, she could feel her mind racing, her muse crafting vivid images of ensembles inspired by those little flights of fancy and lost attention, only to vanish in the midst of some terrible crisis.
Today, she did find herself lost in the splendid artwork once more. But this time, with focus. With purpose.
All for her.
One could hardly think Princess Celestia—er, Celestia, rather. They were seeing one another, after all—to be self-centered or vain. She certainly cut a figure and owned any room she entered, as the sun did the sky each morning she raised it. She could hardly help it herself. Beauty, grace, and utmost serenity had all been the hallmarks of her reign since before memory. Long since her time ruling alone, awaiting Princess Luna’s return, for certain.
Which was why Rarity sat on the tile floor and gazed up at the literal Celestia-sized painting hanging on the wall in the foyer. The colors were soft and blended together, like they’d been taken from a rainbow itself and brushed onto the canvas. The slight wrinkling at the edges and golden frame was a testament to its age, and only did more to emphasize the beauty held in the piece.
Celestia and Princess Luna, standing shoulder to shoulder whilst looking in opposing directions. Tiny smiles graced their lips, their horns were wreathed in gold and cerulean as day and night themselves seemed to pour forth from the tips of their horns—Celestia’s bringing forth warmth, light, and summer days, while Luna heralded a cool night, stars, and winter frost.
Rarity longed to have her sketchbook. If there were ever a more perfect source, this! The harmony, the perfect balance of day and night, and the seasons changing, she could almost see it in one of her ensembles!
She would just have to make due and commit it to memory. There were no major incidents—Celestia forbid!—so there was no reason to let the moment pass her by and let her muse wander elsewhere. And why should it?
The perfect ensemble was in mind. Perhaps something with sunny orange, like those koi scales, and yellow bleeding into pale, icy blue and purple. Or perhaps purple should serve as a barrier, a meeting of night and day, as the sky turned when twilight came. Or perhaps a trio of matching dresses. One for each princess. So not to run the risk of looking too gaudy—yes, that would be far better!
At the thought, Rarity had to hide a titter behind a hoof. Luna would certainly approve. If only for the reference to a certain Princess of Friendship—more importantly, her fiancée, the love of her life since her return. Perhaps she could even get Twilight to model it for them. Surely both Celestia and Luna would delight in seeing the young mare, one’s student and the other’s lover, wearing a perfect blend of their colors, as if to accentuate her namesake.
Or perhaps she would dare be selfish and model one for Celestia, herself. Better still, a fourth piece. The first, fashioned for Twilight as tribute to both, while the second was hers alone. Something white, with a blend of red, yellow, and orange around the hemline and over her chest—as if the sun’s fire and trailed after her and played upon her heart—and a little gold trim around purple sleeves …
So lost was she in the image, the happy visage of herself garbed in such fine dress and Celestia’s ancient purple eyes, wide and full of want, that mighty horn shimmering gold to close the door and grant them a bit of privacy, that she didn’t notice the presence lingering nearby until a soft, amused voice reached her ears:
“Ah, and here we find she who stole my beloved sister’s eye last night, lost in her own thoughts.”
With a squeak, Rarity scrambled to her hooves and turned around to face Princess Luna, her ears burning at the sight of that coy smirk.
“Although, I suppose I can hardly fault her.” Princess Luna chuckled. “Our collection is most impressive, if I might boast a little. Good morning to you as well, Rarity,” she greeted warmly. Her eyes shone like the dazzling stars in her mane. “I trust you slept well in my sister’s company.”
Her snowy white cheeks tinged a deep red and ears splayed back. “H-How did you find out of that, might I ask?” Rarity stammered.
“Tia told me, of course. Oh, you should have seen her—though, I suppose you did, but not in such state as this. One I’ve not seen in an age.”
“Oh?” Rarity’s ears twitched. “What state might that be?”
The Princess of Night met her with a knowing smirk. “Hardly one to be described in the foyer, of all places, I should think. Why, who knows who might hear? And I know well how our ponies do enjoy gossip.” Her feathers fluffing merrily, she gestured toward the west wing corridor with a little nod. “Would you care to accompany me on a walk? I think you’ll find some of the art in my wing rather intriguing as well. You can be my first tour of the modern age.”
Again, her ears twitched. Rarity rose, her curiosity roused. “I’d be happy to see your collection.”
The stark contrast in décor favored by Celestia and Princess Luna was as different as—well—day and night. It was quite cliché to note it as such, but even Rarity couldn’t help allow herself a moment of lapse into such things.
Celestia’s east wing favored wide windows which let her sun’s light pour in, soft paintings featuring sunny scenery and ponies at play, or scenes of heroes and heroines past standing between nightmarish creatures or terrible foes from days long past, with hanging fire basins (unlit at this hour) and brightly colored flowers near each corridor. And, of course, stained glass. All of it watched by guards in gleaming gold armor bearing a blue, five-pointed star.
The west wing, however, was like stepping through sunset itself. From day, to night, Luna favored her high arching ceilings, narrower windows, plants of softer shades and scents, and statues and gargoyles of creatures of the night, terrifying and not, and brave ponies immortalized in stone to join their living comrades in obsidian armor as they guarded over the castle.
The one thing both had in common was a love of paintings and busts. Those depictions of heroes and heroines, scenes of meadows shrouded in cool shadows and illuminated only by moonlight, and of her standing, wings spread, with bats or owls or ponies playing in her night, all of it was displayed throughout her corridor with pride.
“My sister had this wing done in this style,” Luna answered the unasked question. “She told me that, originally, she was unsure of how to design this wing, as the pain of losing me was too raw at the time. She left it to her architects and was left wanting.”
Rarity tilted her head. “Wanting how, if you don’t mind my asking.”
“Wanting in terms of it being more a castle for her alone, rather than one she wished to one day share with me.” Glancing sideways through twinkling teal eyes, she chuckled. “And I would not mention it if I minded you asking.”
A sheepish grin spread across her face. “Touché, Princess,” she replied, nodding as she returned her gaze the paintings, lingering on one of the Princess of Night looming over what looked to be a manticore, which recoiled in fear from her wrath. Behind her midnight wings, Rarity noticed a grown mare and a little filly held tight in her hooves. Curious, Rarity paused in her walk. “Was that …”
Humming, Princess Luna followed her gaze. As she found the painting, her ears perked. “Ah! No, that was a dream, dear mare. The artist gifted it to me—oh—a year ago. After I resumed my duties as Protector of the Dream Realm, I came upon hers. A nightmare, caused by her fear of losing her dear filly so soon after losing her husband to illness. She visited Twilight and I in court one night, after a year of labor on the piece, and gifted it to me as thanks.” A hint of rosy red colored her cheeks, her feathers fluffed. “I confess, I thought Twilight would have told you of the night we received this in court. She delights in reminding me each time we pass it.”
Does she now? Rarity tittered. “Oh, well, I wouldn’t worry about that tale getting spread around at all, dear.” Her tail swishing, she offered a comforting pat on the princess’s shin. “Twilight’s never really been one to spread gossip, least of all any involving a dear friend. Or, in your case, quite a bit more, I should say.” At the deepening blush in Luna’s cheeks, she had to bite the inside of her own. She turned away, gazing at the picture again. “I must say, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such artwork, even in the museums.”
“That, I admit, is a bit of selfishness on our part.” Princess Luna let out a breath, as if happy to change the subject. “My sister and I have always loved art. Admittedly, I’ve always been more inclined toward music and painting, while Tia favors sculptures and stained glass.” She turned to smile at Rarity, adding, “Which would explain the décor inside and out, I wager.”
“It certainly does! Between that, the artwork, and the difference in—” she turned to wave her hoof down the hallway “—the ambiance, it does hold a certain … magic to it, if you’ll pardon the expression.”
“I will not, for it warrants none.” Her eyes twinkled like stars. “I thought the same when Tia finally let me come down this wing. It was like she’d stomped a hoof and turned half the castle into my side of our old one again.”
Rarity blinked. That sounded impossible for most ponies. But, as her friendship with Twilight had taught her, the Royal Family of Equestria were anything but like most ponies when it came to magical talent.
Could Celestia have done just that?
She shook herself. “Yes, well. I appreciate that.” Rarity smiled and turned to face Princess Luna fully. “I was just a bit lost as you came up to me, and then lost again while we walked. It’s a sort of habit of mine, a bit nasty, really.”
Princess Luna arched a brow. “Oh? And why do you say so? Art is meant to be appreciated and inspire imagination after all.” A teasing edge shone in her smile. “I should think the artist of this piece in particular would thank you for the compliment should she learn it caught your eye so.” She took a step closer, tilting her head to one side. “Although, I am curious as to just what this habit of yours might be. Surely, you don’t think letting your mind’s eye take you into a depicted scene to be ‘nasty,’ dear mare!”
A sheepish grin made its way across her face. Rarity could feel the heat filling her cheeks as a rosy blush colored her alabaster coat bright pink. “W-Well, ever since I was a little filly, I’ve always had these little moments where something would catch my eye, and I’d just get inspired. The urge to create and somehow take what I’d seen and make it into some beautiful dress would hit me like a runaway apple cart, and I had to stop and visualize it.”
“Ah! Your muse. ’Tis a wonderful thing, that. I’ve enjoyed such moments myself, as have all artists I’ve known.”
“Yes, well, my father used to tease me—lovingly so, I should add.” Laughing fondly, she shook her head. Her regal purple curls bounced with each turn. “He used to call them my muse moments. He’d let out a big belly laugh, tell everypony to back away! Rarity’s having a muse moment!” She stood suddenly and held his hooves out, as if to ward off any oncoming ponies. After a second or two, she let herself fall to stand on four hooves. “And then he’d ask me what I was thinking about.”
For a moment, Princess Luna regarded her in silence. Her playful smile vanished in favor of a pensive look. Then, slowly, a warm smile began to spread across her face. “A wonderful thing, indeed. And with such support, I can only imagine why you’d find it embarrassing.” She cast a quick wink. “Then again, I can remember when my parents would tease me here and there for how excited I was to walk in dreams, so perhaps I can see why.”
The Princess of the Night took another step closer, gazing down upon Rarity with intrigue. “So, then, I must ask,” she said. “What did you see in your muse moment when I happened upon you?”
Blinking, Rarity thought back. “Um, well,” she stammered. “You see, I was thinking of that painting. The relationship you share with Celestia, and that of day and night.” Hesitating a moment, she added, “And how, in a funny sort of way, it’s furthered with Twilight being between you similar to twilight itself.”
That certainly made Princess Luna’s ears perk. “I’m intrigued. Go on.”
“Well, when I spoke with Celestia last night, she asked me once about what sort of color dress I might design for her. And while we were out by the koi pond.” Rarity paused to fidget a little in place. Her ears splayed to lay flat against her scalp. “I had another of my muse moments, which sort of led into today’s. And, well …”
Soft midnight feathers touched her shoulder, a comforting gesture she’d learned from Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash. “And where did you muse moments take you?” Princess Luna prompted.
Whether it was the touch of feathers or soothing words, Rarity wasn’t certain. Either way, she let her nerves go and the words spilled forth from her lips. She detailed each color, the style, even a notion or two of materials.
By the end of her little spiel, she found herself met not with a teasing look or laughter, but genuine interest still.
Princess Luna folded her wing neatly against her side and smiled. “I, for one, think I should be happy to wear a dress crafted by your hoof. And my sister, more so.” A hint of that playful gleam returned to her eyes. “Think of it as your way of returning the favor for that lovely date she took you on. It’s been some time since I’ve seen her so pleased with a lover, and more still since one has made her heart flutter as you have.”
“R-Really?” Rarity cursed herself for sounding so eager, so desperate! What was she? Some lovestruck fool?
The answer, of course, was yes.
“Truly,” Princess Luna said with a nod. “And it would brighten her day more than a thousand suns to receive such a gift from you. I think it my duty as her sweet, darling, pest of a little sister to gossip and inform you that she is ‘head over hooves,’ as the foals these days say.” Fluffing her feathers, she added, “As am I with Twilight.” She hummed a low note and gestured to continue their walk. “That said, I would like to see this vision realized for the next Winter Solstice Gala,” she said. “You will be paid in full, of course. For four dresses.”
Rarity’s ears twitched. Four? “Princess, but I can’t—”
“You will be paid in full for four dresses,” Princess Luna repeated, finality in her tone and that twinkle in her eyes. “Or I shall compare your rates with Twilight and double them. I will accept no argument or debate on price when an artist’s work is the matter. Least of all, one who makes my sister smile as she did this morn.” Thinking on it a moment longer, she added, “Consider the extra fee a price for your discretion. This will be our surprise for both of our mares, a way to see teacher and student preening as they ought, I should think.”
The blush returned in full, spreading to the very tips of her ears. Rarity could do little more than smile and duck her head. “I’ll need to get her size somehow,” she muttered.
“My sister has not grown an inch in thirteen centuries, depending on the season and how many sweets she’s snuck from the kitchens. I know it well enough.” Her piece said, she turned to face forward and guided Rarity further down the corridor, a small, self-satisfied smile worn plain upon her face. “And I do mean every word, dear mare,” she added softly. “My sister deserves happiness, and you seem to have brightened her day after one night alone. I would hope you think me less as some protective family member, more as an ally in this venture. And in the business of making my sister happy, I should think this a worthy investment.” Again, her feathers touched Rarity’s shoulder. “And you, a worthy mare to put faith in.”
Rarity would later confess she doubted her cheeks resumed their normal color until long after she parted ways with the Princess of the Night.
