> Moonlit Waltz
>  by Carapace
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> 1. The Commissioner
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A breath of cold wind played teasing games through her hair, across her skin. Like a lover’s breath in the early morning. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and the young woman shivered and adjusted her cream-yellow scarf so it settled upon her better and covered her bared skin. 

Soft, silky smooth, and fashion forward, she mused as her sapphire eyes fell and lingered a moment on the three pale blue diamonds hand-stitched at either end. Fine work for an idle, self-indulgent project in the early season.

A fine work of fashion, better still to protect from the rigors of the Canterlotian winter high on the slopes of Mount Canterhorn, where the air was thin and the winds as harsh as the nobles’ coffers were deep. And that was just the summer storms!

As for winter on Mount Canterhorn－well, legend had it that Celestia, the Ageless Princess of the Sun, and her younger sister afforded the Winter Spirits one place to work the brunt of their harsh magics in exchange for some reprieve for the rest of the realm.

Personally, Rarity held little such interest in that tale. Nothing but the delights of winter play for the children and marvelous fashion for the civilized came from the so-called Spirits’ magic.

If they even existed. They were, after all, but stories—old wives’ tales her mother told to frighten her sister and she so many years ago.

Then again …

Rarity traced a finger along the hand-stitched diamond pattern. Luna, the Ageless of the Moon, had been just a story too. Nothing but a silly legend they learned about in school.

Until last Summer Solstice.

A shiver ran down her spine. Rarity leaned against the railing of the second-floor balcony of her prized boutique, the Fount of Fantasies, wrapping her delicate fingers around a cup of steaming tea as if to steal its warmth for herself. She glanced out of the corner of her eye at the lone pieces of furniture—a pair of wooden chairs and a small table for two, painted white with a bit of purple trim. 

Or, more specifically, her eyes focused on the neatly opened envelope, card, and glinting brass letter opener laid upon the table. Imprinted upon the card’s face in elegant, flowing cursive was an invitation.

An invitation to an event which promised nothing short of glamor, opportunity, and intrigue.

Oh, was there ever intrigue in this.



Miss Rarity of Canterlot,

Her Royal Highness, Princess Celestia, would like to extend her cordial invitation to the upcoming Winter Solstice Ball, taking place on the twenty-second of December, year of Harmony two-thousand and one. This historic evening will mark the first official event in which both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna have hosted in over a thousand years, which, of course, will feature a joint appearance by the entirety of the House Guard, officers, and Lady Twilight Sparkle, Regent of the Night.

Formal attire is required. If you so wish to bring a guest, you are granted a Plus One with your invitation. 

Please R.S.V.P. with your intent as soon as possible. Her Majesty looks forward to hearing from you and hosting you in Canterlot Castle.

Sincerely, 

Raven



A historic evening indeed. On many levels at that.

Rarity drank in a deep breath through her nose, savoring the smooth, soothing scent of tea as she took a sip. A long day of work on her dresses had done little to dull the shot of adrenaline she’d gotten when her shop door opened to reveal that stately looking gent in fancy red coat and white gloves, come all the way from the castle to hand-deliver her with that invitation.

Frankly, the only way it could have been a bigger feather in her cap would’ve been if Princess Celestia herself had come. But, Rarity realized, that might be getting just a bit ahead of herself.

Right up there with being crowned Princess of Fashion—oh, the flights of fancy she had when she was young!

She said at a mere twenty-three years old. Yet, still, she had those little moments where her mind saw fit to wander back to those fanciful dreams, away from the trials and tribulations of adulthood. Or the mundane.

Such a shame about that princess dream never panning out, she could have used a helping hand or two. Or, at very least, she did miss those days she could trick Sweetie into helping out in exchange for treats.

Damn. “I suppose the boutique won’t clean itself.” Rarity sighed and ran her fingers through her royal purple tresses. 

With a shake of her head, she drained the rest of her tea in a single shot, savoring the warmth as it ran through her very being. Rarity rose from her makeshift seat with a sort of elegant, almost fluid grace and moved to clean off the table. Clutching her emptied up and letter opener in one hand and the card and envelope in the other, she hummed a low, aimless tune and glided through the balcony door and master bedroom. The young woman ignored her plush bed’s siren call with all the reluctance of a young girl who scared of the storms outside.

Rarity valiantly beat back that insidious little voice, whispering that such rest would come in but a few minutes and descended the stairs, careful not to drop her cup.

But as she reached that last step, the blade of her left foot caught caught on the carpet, her ankle rolled.

Fire shot up her calf.

She let out a startled yelp, her arms wheeling as she stumbled forward and tried to right her footing before she tripped and was served a face full of wall. The empty mug tumbled from her hand with a clatter and skipped across the tile floor, but, miraculously, didn’t shatter. 

Her kneecaps, however, didn’t agree with their sudden meeting with the tile floor. Rarity planted her left hand upon the ground, a mere half-second before her face could hit, she felt something bite the palm of her hand. 

Ladies and gentlemen of the noble court, Rarity thought with a sardonic smile and heavy sigh. Making her grand entrance to the Winter Solstice Social, one of Canterlot’s own, Rarity.

A good thing such a spill had happened behind closed doors, or the vultures in the industry would’ve been circling in a heartbeat—with Suri Polomare the first in line.

A sudden throbbing in her left hand coupled with a sudden burning sensation. Rarity glanced down and let out a frustrated sigh at the droplets of blood already marring her lovely tile floor. She turned her hand over, a frown spread across her features as she loosened her grip on the letter opener to inspect the cut across her palm, just beneath her index finger.

Of course. Such a klutz.

Just what she needed as a dressmaker—and right in a spot that would be sure to pain her and reopen itself with her every movement each time she went to stitch or cut fabric. Not to mention how it would stain if she didn’t bandage it before cleaning up her—aha—little mess.

With another sigh, Rarity rose to her feet and collected her mug, then headed off into the kitchen for a hot date with the first aid kit and a bottle of antiseptic.

Truly, the epitome of class and grace.





If there had ever been one fantasy that stuck with Rarity all the way through adulthood, it was that she might be visited by an adoring caller in the middle of the night. Completely unprompted. Just three sudden knocks, jarring her out of one of her favorite books and a bottle of wine to whisk her away on a magical eve of romance and passion.

At this point, with her right hand bandaged and that cut stinging with each attempt to grab and place something on the appropriate rack or drawer, Rarity would be perfectly fine with the mail person.

What manner of romantic, magical eve such a call would bring would at least serve some entertainment. And who knew? Maybe the thought would be enough to match the whimsy of those childish dreams.

But as she felt another bite of pain shoot through her hand in the midst of rolling a length of mint green fabric and sliding it onto the rack, Rarity had to scold that last remnant of her childish self. There was no chance such a thing would happen. Not to her.

“Perhaps,” she mused aloud, a hint of a rueful smile playing upon her lips, “if there were some spell to turn fantasy tales into reality.” Pausing a moment, the young dressmaker brought her uninjured hand to her lips to stifle a laugh. “Oh, silly girl!” she teased as her mother would. “In such a world, you might dream yourself a little unicorn living in a carousel!”

Her parents did so love to poke fun. All well-meaning and supportive in their own way. It had been their prodding which finally guided Sweetie to pursue a career in music with her little friends, and they had frequented the Royal Canterlot Hall each time they came through on tour.

Naturally, it was right about here, as she had only just managed to rein in her wandering imagination and return to adulthood and the mundanity of cleaning her own messes, that fantasy was made real.

Three sharp knocks against the oaken door sounded out. Rarity turned so quickly her immaculate curls whipped and bounced against her cheek.

Who could be coming to call at such an hour?

Probably some overeager patron, knowing her luck. Someone who was so certain their need for a dress or suit couldn’t possibly wait until normal business hours. More likely, someone who’d just gotten their invitation and ran over in a hurry, determined to ensure they would get the first dress made by the newest, hottest prospect in Canterlot fashion scene.

Self-indulgent? Yes, just a bit. But a little confidence in one’s talent did wonders for business.

And Rarity made sure to put on her brightest, most winsome smile and straightened her shoulders as she turned and opened the door with a snap of her fingers and spark of dazzling sapphire. Magic well-practiced, the perfect way to make an impression on the shadowed figure standing in the doorway. 

“Welcome to Fount of Fantasies,” she chimed, reciting her usual greeting. “Home of heart’s desires, flights of fancy, and—”

“And works of pure imagination,” the figure drawled in a melodious, feminine voice. 

She stepped through the door, light washing over her form to reveal a lovely, hourglass figure clad in a dress of crimson and black, high-collared cape. Her long, flowing hair was a midnight blue with twin flashes of purple and magenta running from just above her left eye to the very end. As for her skin, well, the moonlight just seemed to make it glow like she had been touched by a goddess. The very picture of perfection and beauty. All of it, however, paled in comparison to her eyes.

Eyes as vibrant red as her very lifeblood, with slitted pupils that seemed to pierce through her being to take weight of her very soul.

Rarity felt a cold shiver run down her spine, one part fear, one part just a hint of anticipation and something else. 

She licked her lips. When had they gotten so dry? “Y-You’re not one of my regulars,” Rarity stammered, cursing her nerves. Always at the worst possible times! 

“No. I am not.” The woman’s luscious, crimson lips curved into a smile which revealed just the slightest hint of pearly white teeth. Most notably, a set of lethal canines too long to be any human’s.

Her breath hitched. Not a supernatural beauty by mere turn of phrase.

A vampire.

The vampiress didn’t so much as walk toward her as she did stalk with a predatory, sensuous grace. A subtle wiggle of her fingers sent a tendril of raspberry sparking from the tips and closed the door. 

She held Rarity in transfixed in her gaze, as if a spell had been cast upon her in that instant. A thousand words, flowery praise from all her favorite books, raced to be the first to leap from the tip of her tongue.

All she could do was goggle and struggle to swallow down the lump in her throat, and blurt the first thought that managed to wriggle itself free, “Then—Then how would you know of me?”

“I know many things. It’s been my duty to help Princess Celestia—” the vampiress paused to bow her head in deference “—maintain the realm for a thousand years until her sister, Princess Luna, returned to this world. My honor and privilege then as Regent of the Night, and now taking my place as her loyal servant.” Her crimson eyes dazzling with mirth, she raised a delicate hand to present her knuckles and the silver ring and sapphire stone. “Lady Twilight Sparkle, at your service, Miss Rarity.”

No mere caller or overeager noble. With exception and respect to the princesses, Lady Twilight Sparkle, Regent of the Night, was the top of the food chain—figuratively and quite literally. 

It was she, after all, who ruled alongside Princess Celestia for a thousand years, keeping the Midnight Throne occupied until such a time when Princess Luna returned from her imprisonment. It was she before and throughout her own princess’s banishment who commanded the Night Guard and Legions of the Night—vampires, ghouls, goblins, nameless creatures and even daring mages who dabbled in old magic—to defend the realm from the monsters who lurked and preyed in darkness.

And yet … even with all that known, there was so much mystery surrounding the legendary Regent of the Night the populace had practically taken to inventing their own stories to fill in the gaps.

Rarity hastily took Twilight’s hand in hers and dipped at the knee, bowing her head low. “Lady Sparkle, please forgive my ignorance! I didn’t recognize you!”

“No apology necessary. I’m quite used to …” Twilight trailed off, her nostrils flaring. She released Rarity from her gaze at last, her eyes instead settling on Rarity’s left hand.

More specifically, the bandage.

Her tongue ran across her lips. Those slitted pupils began to dilate, as if hoping to take in a work of art.

The vampiress drew in a deep breath through her nose, the corners of her mouth twitched and tugged into a hungry smile. “Delicious,” she murmured, her voice full of haunting rapture.

Another shiver ran down Rarity’s spine, coupled this time with a little flutter of her heart. “Er,” she began, unsure of how to draw away without being rude. “Lady Sparkle?”

“Hmm?”

“Er … may I?” she asked, gently tugging on her left hand in silent prompting.

Twilight released her grip and jerked her hand back as though she’d burned it upon a hot stove. Embarrassment flitted across her features, but was gone in an instant.

In its place, she affixed a stately mask. “My apologies,” she said smoothly. “The scent of blood is rather … enticing, shall we say? To answer your previous question, Her Highness, Princess Luna, is in need of a dress for the upcoming Winter Solstice Social.” Pausing a moment, Twilight arched a brow. “You’ve received your invitation, no doubt?”

She knew? 

Rarity did her best to hide her surprise. A visit from Lady Sparkle herself was enough, the rest? Gravy. 

“I have, yes,” Rarity replied. “Only just this afternoon.”

“Princess Celestia does enjoy her dramatic revelations,” Twilight mused with a hint of fondness to her tone. She turned away and clasped her hands behind her back, gliding around the room to survey her surroundings. “But I digress. Princess Luna has asked that I commission a dress on her behalf since I’ve been helping her acclimate to things since her return. I trust you’ll be making a queue for the event?”

Nodding once, Rarity tracked the vampiress around the room, taking in her every move. Appreciating that ensemble, of course. It was perfect, but that confidence, that gait, that sensuous sway in her hips all brought it together with the proverbial bang. 

Twilight hummed, her smile returning. “Splendid.” She stopped in place just before the full-body mirror—barren of any reflection. “Then I would like to request the first available spot for one of your finest. Something in midnight blue that sparkles like her night sky—she does so love the stars.”

“I—what—but—I mean, yes, I can certainly do that, but there are—”

“Money is no object, of course.” The vampiress waved a lofty hand. “You will be paid from my coffers. This is meant to be a bit of a surprise to her. You’ll have to excuse me, but the dear Princess expects to wear one of hers from over a thousand years ago. She’s strange in her way—terribly shy and frets over how her legacy might make other receive her, but so stubborn I doubt I could move her with the help of all my kind.”

Rarity blinked. “Er, wouldn’t she—”

“Protest? Oh, she will, of course. But, as I transition from Regent of the Night to her lady in waiting, I’m well aware that sometimes I must take action in her best interest—a first impression is quite important, as you well know.” Twilight grinned, exposing the full length of her fangs and sent a third shiver down Rarity’s spine, and sent her heart aflutter once more. “Well. I suppose we both know that, yes?”

Oh, yes. Yes, she did.

Every bit of her, right out of some fantasy novel. Yet, somehow, more.

But there was business. A noble in her boutique, here to commission her work for Princess Luna. If ever there were a more real form of opportunity knocking, Rarity hadn’t seen it.

“Of course,” Rarity whispered. She coughed and shook herself, then spoke up, “I’ll need her measurements, though. A dress for an event such as this must be perfect.”

Crimson eyes glinted. “Yes, indeed,” Twilight purred. “You and I are on the same wavelength in that regard. Fortunately for us …” She drifted closer once more, that smile back in place as she reached into her bosom and retrieved a folded slip of paper, then held it clasped between her index and middle finger and offered it to Rarity. “The measurements are precise.”

Rarity accepted the paper with a hesitant nod. Curious, she unfolded it and gave it a quick look over. Simple enough. And notes for style? She’s good. “I can do this,” she said, looking up to meet Twilight’s eye once more. “Though, I’ll need to know if you’ll be picking it up or if you’ll be sending for it.”

“Have it sent to my villa, if you don’t mind. As I said—” she closed the distance between them before Rarity could think to flinch, her cold breath teased her ear as she whispered, “This is to be a surprise. Your discretion will be appreciated and rewarded.”

A few such rewards floated to the forefront of her mind. Rarity prayed with every fiber of her being that her cheeks not betray her. “I—No one will know until she makes her grand entrance, Lady Sparkle.”

“Just what I wanted to hear.”

Twilight drew away, her smile in place once more as she made as though to turn and leave. But then, she seemed to think better of it, and stopped.

And caught Rarity’s injured hand in hers once more.

The vampiress lifted it slowly, guiding Rarity to turn her hand palm up so she could bring the wound to her lips and drank in a deep sniff to savor the scent. “You should be more careful,” she murmured. “A wound like this is more likely to make you more … enticing in ways you don’t quite intend.”

Her piece said, she released Rarity’s hand and swept out of the boutique, the slightest twitch of her fingers enough to open and close the door in her wake.

Rarity stood stock still for a long moment afterward, her heart racing and chest heaving as though she’d just run a marathon. Slowly, she backed up to lean against the wall and sank down to sit upon the floor.

She had heard those whispers and rumors surrounding the mysterious Regent of the Night, Twilight Sparkle. For years, they’d circulated to create that mythical figure, one of awesome, terrifying power and refined, unnatural beauty.

Slowly, she ran her tongue along her lips. That shiver down her spine returned and grew into a tremble not of fear, but of excitement—yes, excitement. That was definitely what she felt.

The stories were all wrong, Rarity thought, letting her eyes fall to the slip of paper still clutched in her hand. She’s far more beautiful face to face.

For the first time since her younger years, Rarity left her mess for the morning and drifted off to make tea, then to search her study. There had to be something to bring light to some of that mystery.

All she needed was the right place to look.
> 2. A Mind Enraptured
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Every day and night since Twilight Sparkle’s visit had passed in a sort of fever dream. 

In all honesty, Rarity could’ve sworn only a day had passed. And yet, before she even knew it, the week had passed her by and she was looking ahead to her schedule for the next, eyeing it in the middle of a workspace strewn with order forms, dress designs, and books of history and myth. 

Making Princess Luna’s dress had been going quite well, of course. Given that Lady Sparkle had explicitly asked her to incorporate midnight blue and sparkles as a call to the Princess of the Moon’s love for the stars, using the night sky as a base for inspiration was, quite honestly, a no-brainer. 

That first night alone had been spent both researching and sketching out her ideas. Her muse had been held captive by the vampiress’s stare, the same as the young woman herself, then, inexplicably, released the instant she walked out the door and into the cool winter night.

Released to run utterly wild with inspiration. There was so much that could be done with the night sky! So much she could incorporate the ensemble, something subtle, but catching for the keen eye. Constellations, distant planets, shooting stars, and far more than she could imagine! 

Her work desk looked like an odd mix of historian, dressmaker, and astrologist ever since. A fact her—ahem—darling little sister and friends picked up and drove into the ground with great vigor and a dash of vindictive pleasure.

“Y’know, I remember all those times you used to get on us about how we needed to keep things tidy around here,” Sweetie Belle mused from her spot lounging on a cushion on the opposite side of the room. She huffed and propped her chin on the heels of her hands and said in a rather fair imitation of Rarity’s voice, “Sweetie Belle! You need to learn to put things away after your done!”

“Organization is the key to success!” Scootaloo chipped in through a bout of snickers. 

The coup de grâs came, naturally, in Apple Bloom’s thick, almost lazy drawl,  “Y’all’ just flit from one thing to the next, like it’s nothin’. Ain’t got no sense of focus or direction in a thing she does, girls.”

Rarity looked up from her sewing machine and eyed their reflections in the mirror with a frown. “My desk is quite organized, thank you very much!”

“Coulda fooled me! Looks more like my sister’s room after Rainbow Dash comes a-callin’!”

“Could you not?” Scootaloo groaned, covering her reddened face with her hands. “I don’t need the visual of your sister and my sorta-sister together!”

The farmer’s daughter shrugged. “Sorry, Scoots.” Her verdant eyes glinted with mirth, betraying her insincerity. “I’ll make sure to keep from remindin’ ya that we got kicked outta Dash’s place last night because—”

“Shut. Up!”

Snickering, Sweetie Belle rolled over and grinned. “She’s not wrong though. Just look at all those fabrics and drawings and star charts and books Rarity’s got thrown all over her desk—like a little tornado came whipping through, eh?”

Rarity could do little but purse her lips. They weren’t wrong, damn the little troublemakers. They were so much easier to deal with when they were preteens—still in school, still so sure that being forbidden from going to the ice cream parlor or being forced to do chores instead of playing as punishment for their messes was the most terrible thing they’d ever deal with in life.

Simpler times. Though, difficult for her, as a true newcomer who hadn’t quite cut her teeth in the fashion industry, let alone garnered a reputation that led Lady Sparkle to come calling.

Thus, the current state of her desk—on one side her work, and on the other her newfound obsession, Lady Twilight Sparkle, Regent of the Night. Formerly the Regent, as the Lady herself had noted.

Who could possibly blame her? Thought they were common enough a sight to those who frequented the city at night, let alone the Moonlit Court itself, there had always been a sort of mysticism surrounding vampires. They among all others guarded the history of their kind as though it were worth more than all the gold and priceless gems the world could offer. What little was known of them—the fatal aversion to sunlight, garlic’s repelling effect, and, naturally, their need to feed upon mortal blood—had come only from direct observation over the thousand or so years since their first sightings in the realm.

The rest? Pure myth, a dash of speculation, and just a touch of romanticism.

Well, the latter more in her romance novels than works of history. But the point stood! In any case, there was good reason for her little side project, even if her sister and her little friends didn’t quite see it. 

With a derisive sniff, she returned her attention to her work and muttered her retort just loud enough that they could hear, “Except my desk is divided into one side for work,  the other for a side project. Your rooms at your condo look like someone summoned a tornado.”

“Hey!” Scootaloo protested. “I haven’t done that since I was eight!”

Rarity looked up and eyed her in the mirror, arching a well-trimmed brow. “Eight?”

“… Okay, fine! Thirteen!”

Before she could think to go down the line, Apple Bloom raised her hands in surrender. “Ain’t even gonna pretend on the plant magic. Still, point stands.” The farmhand turned singer rose and padded over to Rarity’s side, letting her eyes sweep over each sketch, chart, stitch, and text with a wrinkled nose. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen ya let things get to be such a clutter. What’s all this stuff? Dancing In Darkness: The Secret History of Vampires? Bloodlust and Moonlight: A Comprehensive Guide to the Vampire Courts?”

“The heck?” Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo was at her side almost immediately.Rarity watched as her sister picked up one of the thick texts and frowned. “I thought those were all those trashy romance stories you loved. Since when did you become a historian?”

“Where the heck did you even get these?” Scootaloo added. “A couple of these look older than my parents’ house and that’s been in the family for centuries!”

Rarity forced herself not to grimace or lose focus. Instead, she kept her head down, her eyes trained on the hemline. “I can have my interests,” she grumbled. “And just because I love a good romance novel doesn’t mean I can’t like history! And they’re not trashy, I’ll have you know!”

“Uh huh. Sure. And, see, I’d almost buy that, Rarity. If you’d ever shown an interest in anything historical that didn’t involve the fashion industry for some sort of new spin on classic designs.” Though she didn’t look, Rarity could feel those emerald eyes boring into the side of her head, gleaming with mischief. “So, why don’t you come clean, oh sister of mine? You’re a worse liar than I ever was.”

She couldn’t help it. She twitched and turned away, sucking in her lips to hide any expression.

“I am not.”

“You just twitched and made sure I couldn’t see you trying to hide a guilty smile. Also, your ears are turning red.”

“Redder ‘n Big Mac when Sugar Bell comes callin’,” Apple Bloom so helpfully chipped in.

Damn. She’d taught them far too well how to keep a weather eye out for when something was amiss. Any other day, she might have even been proud.

Today? Not so.

At the rate they were going, they’d never stop, and she’d keep getting distracted arguing back. And, naturally, a distracted dressmaker would produce subpar results.

That simply would not do. Not for a commission as important as this.

Worse still, she’d just about lost focus then and there. Her muse’s voice, so vibrant and clear until now, had faded into the background amid justifications and carefully crafted excuses—worded so there could be no hint, no betraying Lady Sparkle’s explicit demand that the commission be carried out with the utmost secrecy.

And here she was, letting it just slip away.

Rarity flicked off the sewing machine with a huff and rose so suddenly the girls scattered as if they were children again. To hell with it. A walk to the library will help me clear my head. Not to mention return a couple of these books before I get charged that ridiculous late fee. 

“I’m taking a walk,” she muttered, snatching a book from Sweetie’s grasp with a baleful glare. “Since somebody seems keen on making it impossible to focus on anything today!”

“Come on, don’t be like that! We were just playing!”

Sniffing, she turned so sharply the hem of her pale purple dress snapped through the air, and stalked over to retrieve her purse from the wall hook near the front door. A wave of her fingers and sapphire sparkle of arcane energy was all it took to float her purse to rest upon her shoulder and flip the “OPEN” sign to read “OUT OF OFFICE.” With a backward glance over her shoulder, she leveled each of the young women with a stern glare.

“Do not,” she said slowly, “under any circumstances let a client in and take commissions. I’ll not have another Spring Fling Soirée fiasco to my name because you three fancied yourselves my assistants.”

“That was one time!” Scootaloo blurted, stomping her foot so much like the little girl she’d been at the time. “And you got them all done!”

“With delays, yes. And I’ll not have that happen with the Winter Solstice Ball just around the corner. So you will behave, or I’ll make sure each of your baby pictures makes it into every tabloid for the next year!”

Satisfied both that her point had been made and with the horrified gasps and sputtering pleas which followed, Rarity slipped out the door and closed it with a wave of her hand and a wicked little smirk.

Sometimes, an elder sister had to make it a point to remind the little ones who ran the roost. Even as an adult.

Especially, as an adult, she corrected herself as she hurried along the bustling cobblestone streets, careful not to find herself in path of any horse-drawn carts or carriages. 





Canterlot itself wasn’t nearly as big as the younger, more metropolitan cities like Manehattan, but it was still very much the heart and soul of the realm. It wasn’t so much divided into boroughs or sides as it was by terrace. Rather like Cloudsdale, where the storm folk—like Scootaloo and her family—called home.

Ironic, given the grudge held in the old days. But that was about a thousand years out of date, give or take a century or three.

The shining city on Mount Canterhorn was divided into six terraces, each named for the founders of the realm—Rarity lived right on the border between the Platinum and Clover terraces, more on the Platinum side as the levels changed, while her sister and friends lived over on Hurricane Terrace.

With how the city was divided up and with respect to the founders themselves, it came as little surprise to anyone with a brain that the best libraries could be found in Clover Terrace—the Brainiac Asylum, as the kids so lovingly dubbed it. And among the lot, none save the Royal Archives themselves were more extensive than the Clover the Clever Memorial Library. If ever there was something to be learned, old Page Turner could help you find it.

Which is why it was so very striking that her quest for knowledge on one of the nation’s most important figures in the last thousand years met a dead end. “Surely you must have something else?” she asked. Only years of practice refining her self-control kept her from openly begging. “Something more in depth? Not that your other recommendations weren’t gripping—they were!—but the information seemed rather … thin, in certain areas.”

Page Turner looked Rarity in the eye, sighed sadly, and just shook her head. “I’m sorry. I understand entirely what you mean, of course. The subject has been of great interest to scholars for some time, and information is woefully scarce.” She reached up and laid a hoof on the newly returned books and said, “These were the most comprehensive and in depth text we carry on vampires, and certainly the ones that offer the most coverage on Lady Sparkle and her court.”

Woefully scarce? The most extensive? Rarity felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach.

If that was truly all they had to offer, there was little more she could find. Worse still, what little she had found was barely more than common knowledge or those near mythical stories—Lady Sparkle, the most powerful of all vampires, had stood at the head of her court and planted her feet between the foulest creatures of darkness and the happy innocents which slumbered in  their beds or partied and danced the night away. 

Her history, her upbringing, even her overall demeanor save for what was seen in her actions as Regent of the Night and joint appearances with Princess Celestia and Princess Cadence was a complete mystery. Hell, with how they spoke of her, it was almost as if Lady Sparkle had just appeared out of thin air.

A prospect which, even out of her presence, sent that familiar shiver down Rarity’s spine.

Shaking herself, the dressmaker drew in a deep breath and banished that feeling. There was always another thread to pull. One yielding no results didn’t necessarily mean there was  nothing to be found.

Just that she hadn’t pulled on the right one. “I see,” Rarity murmured, trying her level best to keep her disappointment off her face.  “Thank you for your help, then. I don’t suppose you might be able to recommend any of the other libraries who might have any further resources? I understand it’s probably a longshot, but ...”

Page Turner gave a rueful smile. “Unfortunately, we tend to have the more extensive collections in Canterlot, miss. I don’t mean to insult my fellow librarians, we’re all quite proud of our own collections, but there really isn’t a better source for information on Lady Sparkle throughout history. I’m truly sorry.” 

The thread came free and unraveled everything. And with it, Rarity’s heart. 

Ridiculous, the logical side of her, that part so normally repressed beneath years of reading those fanciful romance novels, whispered. She’d only met Lady Sparkle once, for a fleeting moment. Anything more than her want to commission a dress for Princess Luna was the result of that now-healed cut on her left hand. Nothing more.

Still, that didn’t take away the slight sting she felt in her chest. Disappointment bled into her very core.

So much for finding all the mysteries of Lady Sparkle. Maybe she’d get lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the beautiful vampiress at the Winter Solstice Gala.

No matter.
> 3. Bringer of Light
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was difficult to put the splendor of Canterlot Castle to words upon seeing its interior for the first time, let alone the spotlight that shone upon the lucky souls who were important enough to earn something worth more than the usual public tour.

The inside, of course, was the subject of the fancies of every child in the city, if not the nation. Not a one came close. How could they?

Little kids didn’t exactly understand what polished marble, tile as pure white as fresh snow, the artistry of those banners of night and day hanging from the rafters, or the imagery portrayed in those beautiful stained glass windows came together to make. Hell, they didn’t understand coherent interior design for their own bedrooms, how could anyone honestly expect them to put together a vision of utmost perfection like those artisans who designed Canterlot Castle.

Those noblemen and women who came into her Fount of Fantasies always spoke of how important they felt when they were granted an audience. It instilled feelings as though the sun itself had shone its light down upon them like a spotlight, like Princess Celestia had picked them out of the crowd. Gaining audience with Princess Celestia or Lady Sparkle—well, Princess Luna, now—effectively put one on the map and let them stand head and shoulders above their peers.

What they probably didn’t tell their peers, though, was how their knees knocked, palms sweated, and entire world spun as they felt faint.

Or, at least, Rarity hoped that was the case. Surely, she wasn’t the only person who’d ever felt like she might just die the very instant she crossed through those tall oaken doors and stepped over the threshold into the Throne Room, into Princess Celestia’s court.

The mere thought alone was enough to make her heart leap and lodge itself in her throat. Why did nerves always have to pick the most inopportune moments to render one so stricken? Why here, now, as she sat seated on one of those plush, decorative chairs, waiting to be summoned on the very day of the social?

Well, that was just the nature of nerves, of course. Rarity knew that logically. But such things just made getting ready for these all-important meetings all the more troublesome—how ever was a girl to make an impression on royalty if she could do little more than croak when addressed?

“Miss Rarity,” the Princess’s seneschal, Raven, called in her stern, clipped tone.

Jolted from her thoughts, the young woman let out a startled squeak and shot off the chair so fast her ankle nearly rolled, leading to a most ungraceful stumble forth. “Y-Yes,” she replied, cursing her slip.

The elder woman arched a single coal-black brow, the only tell she gave. Raven held a hand out to gesture toward the door and said, “Her Highness is ready to receive you.” 

Rarity gave a sheepish smile and bow of her head, then hurried to take her invitation into the Throne Room. At very least, she thought, she could try to look somewhat dignified before the Princess, if not her staff.

She strode past the guards standing at post, along the long red carpet leading up to the dais. Up to the golden throne where a woman considered by most to be a living goddess. And seeing her in person for the first time, it was rather clear why.

All the paintings, busts, sculptures, and statues dedicated to her image had fallen woefully short of capturing but a fraction of the woman herself, though not due to any failings of the artists  themselves.

Even seated, Princess Celestia was a woman of great stature and almost unnatural beauty. Her skin was a lovely bronze, unblemished by scarring or marks despite the centuries of battle and stress which must have come with ruling. She was dressed in a long, flowing white dress with faded purple patterns of flame licking the hem, and three fingers on her right hand were adorned with glittering gold rings and her wrists and ankles with golden bracelets flecked with turquoise. The perfect match for the peytral around her neck. Most striking, though, were those ancient, piercing purple eyes and her mane of flowing, rainbow hair.

Whether or not such rumors of her divinity were true, Princess Celestia greeted the young woman with a sunny smile and welcoming nod. 

Rarity came to a halt at the very end of the carpet and bowed her head, bending at the knee before the Princess of Day. “Your Highness,” she said softly. 

“Miss Rarity,” the princess returned, gesturing her to rise. “I must say, I thought it a bit of a joke when I was told that such a big player in fashion was so young, yet here you are. Truly, carving a new path in history.”

“I—you’ve heard of me?”

“Quite a bit, yes.Your business partner, Fancy Pants, has been like a son to me since his parents first introduced us. He was five at the time. To this day, he’s still the same troublesome little boy I remember.” Amusement danced in those ancient eyes. “But perhaps that’s a tale for another day. I doubt you’ve come to hear an old woman spin her tales.”

“I—oh—I, um—” Again, she bowed, defaulting to respect. Off to a great start so far with that first impression. “Thank you for seeing me today on such short notice.”

“The Crown always has time for its subjects, whether Twilight or myself.”  Pausing a moment in thought, Princess Celestia brought a hand to her lips to stifle a laugh. “Oh! Pardon me. I suppose I should say whether Luna or myself these days. I’ve gotten so used to Twilight’s company over the past thousand years it’s become somewhat of a habit to treat her as a fourth princess—though, in a sense, I suppose she is … hmmm.”

So surreal was it seeing the Princess of Day lost in her own thoughts, musing over whatever technicalities or otherwise occupied her ancient mind, that Rarity could do little more than stand in slack-jawed awe. 

Everything that was supposed to be a certain way was just going to be turned upside down and jack-knifed right on its head.

She just changed everything the night she chose me, didn’t she?

Princess Celestia shook her head and offered a sheepish smile. “Forgive me, I sometimes do wander back to debates with my old friend and former student—especially one so spirited as that.” With a wistful sigh, she shifted about in her throne. “And you didn’t come to hear some old woman’s idle musings, I’m sure.”

“I don’t mind!” Rarity replied before she remembered herself. Her cheeks coloring, she tried her best to look small before the princess. “I-I mean, I’m happy to listen, Your Highness. You’re being quite gracious enough to take the time to consider my—er—question.”

“Ah, yes. Your question.” A hint of intrigue sparked in those ancient purple eyes. Princess Celestia drummed her fingers upon the arm of her throne. “I must admit, I hadn’t expected a dressmaker to take such an interest in Twilight’s history. Historians and scholars, of course, have asked after her for years, but never one in your area of expertise.”

Fidgeting beneath her gaze, Rarity had to force herself not to look down at her shoes. “The vampires have always been a subject of particular fascination,” she said softly, just barely loud enough to reach her ears. “Though my usual reading is, uh …”

“Fantasy romance novels?”

“Do you find that silly?”

“We all have our tastes, dear. Why should I find yours silly?” Her eyes twinkling, she leaned forward and winked. “The only thing I find silly about those books is their attempts at vampire culture. Otherwise, I’ve been known to enjoy an occasional read, especially when I can use it to tease Twilight and her brother.”

A weight seemed to lift from Rarity’s shoulders. She stood up a little straighter and clasped her hands behind her back, idly twiddling her thumbs. “Then, you don’t mind if I ask about her?”

With a low hum, the Princess gave a half shrug. “I suppose that would depend on your answer to my question.”

“Y-Your question?”

“Yes. Call it my price for answering yours about one so dear to my heart for so long.”

Of course. Why would information so precious come without some price? Not to mention about one so close. Rarity nodded once. 

Princess Celestia’s smile fell, a calculating expression in its place. “Why does a dressmaker who’s never shown any interest in vampires outside a few harlequins with a glass of wine find herself here, asking about the most powerful and brilliant of them all? Why do I hear whispers of her asking around libraries for a week?” A single green brow arched and disappeared beneath her bangs. “Why Twilight Sparkle?”

Of the three questions, the last stuck out most. 

Why Twilight Sparkle? Why not?

At least, that was her first thought. Impulsive, brash, and, most likely, an answer which would’ve seen her denied and turned away for bothering Princess Celestia with some flight of fancy.

Honestly, at that point, Rarity wouldn’t be surprised to find herself disinvited from the Winter Solstice Social.

She licked her lips. “Lady Sparkle was very … striking,” Rarity said slowly. “Very striking when she first visited me.”

“For my sister’s dress?” When she saw Rarity flinch, the Princess of Day chuckled. “Twilight tells me many things. That she designs to have a dress commissioned and will need my assistance forcing the issue with Luna was part of a rather lengthy planning session between the two of us. You’ve had it delivered to Twilight’s villa already, yes?”

“Just this morning,” Rarity replied with a nod.

“Good. Twilight will have plenty of time to cajole my sister.” Her sunny smiled returned. Princess Celestia rose from her throne and rolled her shoulders to work out a bit of stiffness. Then, she stepped off the dais and made to a side door leading outside, gesturing Rarity to follow with a little twitch of her fingers. “Walk with me, please. I tire of that silly thing and could use a bit of fresh air myself.”

Rarity hurried to follow in her wake, just a step behind, easily within conversational difference but not so close to look presumptive of their relationship.

As they stepped out into the warm sunlight, out into the splendorous Royal Gardens full of colorful flowers and creatures Rarity had neither seen nor heard before. It was just almost enough to distract from her little walk with the immortal princess.

“Striking,” Princess Celestia repeated with a short laugh. “I’ll admit, I’ve heard many artists, poets, and writers give flattery to her name, and enemies cursing or cowering its weight. But that? Not quite. Though, a bit funny, I suppose.”

“Funny? Why would you say that?”

“Oh, that, I think I’ll keep my little secret.” Princess Celestia clasped her hands behind her back and sighed. “I said I’d answer questions about her, but you can’t expect me to gossip about her.”

Her face flushed, Rarity ducked her head. “Of course not. My apologies.”

“Worry not. I don’t take offense. Though I will say she was quite happy when she returned.” She glanced back over her shoulder with an impish smile playing upon her lips. “Happier than I’ve seen in some time, for one so reserved.”

If she was trying to dissuade Rarity from prying, Princess Celestia was doing a terrible job. Then again, it didn’t sound so much like it. If anything, she sounded like a mother trying to dangle information in front of a prospective suitor, eager to see if they could think to seize it.

“That aside, your questions on her.” Princess Celestia stopped at the end of the pathway and turned to face her. “I suppose you’re curious as to why I chose her to rule in Luna’s stead.”

Rarity ducked her head and offered a sheepish smile. “Am I so transparent?”

“No more than any other who have wondered that in my presence, but most ask why I would think to put someone so powerful in place after my sister’s attempted coup. Even more now, as she returns and Twilight steps aside to allow her to return to her rightful place at my side.” She tilted her head to one side. “Would you care to guess?”

Blinking, the young woman let her confusion show. “I … what?”

“Would you care to guess why I chose Twilight?” Princess Celestia raised her brows. “Why a noble of a race so closely tied to the my sister’s court?”

Where was this going? Rarity could do little more than sputter and hold out her hands, her palms turned upward as if trying to grab some answer or reason out of thin air. “I—I couldn’t possibly—I wouldn’t know any more than anyone else! Aside from yourself, Your Highness!”

“I’m not asking for the right answer, I’m asking why you think I did. It’s rather simple.” Mischief shone in her eyes. “If you’ve paid attention to my little comments.”

More teasing. More coyness.

Memories of that conversation with Lady Twilight Sparkle herself flitted through her mind. The vampiress had been quite coy in her own right. The entire plan she’d hatched was something out of one of those silly plays where a girl finds that her family and friends have planned out the perfect way to get her man. Or woman, in some of the more modern ones.

And how she just stalked around Rarity like a predator—or, perhaps, how she circled and appraised her, rather. Yes, yes, that was it. Twilight Sparkle was a Lady after all.

A Lady didn’t stalk so openly.

It clicked. “You knew her before she became so powerful,” Rarity breathed. “Did … Princess Luna as well?”

Princess Celestia beamed. “She was the first student we taught together—before, she taught Shining while I taught Cadence. Her family had always been rather close with Luna, so placing her on the Throne seemed …” She gave a little shrug. “Well, I suppose it was my tribute to both my respect for her court and a hope that our bond would stay strong. The little vampire we taught friendship and love sitting on the Midnight Throne. There was no better choice.”

With a wistful sigh and snap of her fingers, a stone bench appeared in a shimmer of gold. She sat and beckoned Rarity to join her, then continued, “You’ve read some interesting accounts of her style of rule and how jealously she protects the realm, I hear.” 

“Yes.” Rarity fidgeted beneath her gaze. “The stories paint a rather … graphic picture of her wrath when roused, and how chilling she can be when challenged.”

“A shame they don’t know the love that drives her so.” The princess shook her head sadly. “And what of you? What did you think when she came into your home?”

Naturally, nerves chose that precise moment to revisit her and spur her heart to leap and lodge itself in her throat. She could feel goosebumps upon her arms, all the way up to her shoulder, and a heat rising in her cheeks and spreading rapidly to the nape of her neck.

Mischief shone in those ancient eyes once more. “Ahhhh,” Princess Celestia said softly. “Striking, you say? I see.” The corner of her mouth twitched upward. “Perhaps you’d prefer that I send for my niece so she might give you some—aha—advice?”

A sound somewhere between a squeal and a shriek tore itself from the back of her throat. Rarity buried her face in her hands and shook her head. “No! Oh, please, don’t! If Lady Twilight hears, I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Never live it down? Die?” Delicate hands pried hers away from her face and guided her to look into Princess Celestia’s eyes once more. Right at that smile. “Dear, I fear you buy into my little student’s aloof façade as much as all the rest. But that is the way she loves it. In any case, worry not. She’s … warm to her friends. In her own way.”

Again, she squirmed. “Warm?” she repeated, trying to envision what a warm Twilight Sparkle might be like. The heat in her cheeks returned in force. 

Those vampire romance novels had been quite—ahem—adventurous with how they portrayed any relations with their kind.

“In her own way.” Releasing Rarity’s hands, Princess Celestia folded her own neatly in her lap. “Though Luna and I did teach Twilight friendship, certain realities surrounding her situation caused her to develop a rather warped view over time.”

“Realities such as …”

“Consider what little vampire boys and girls must feel,” she said softly, “watching their dear friends grow old faster, realizing that one day, sooner than they’d like, they’ll stand by their friends’ deathbeds and kiss their forehead one last time when they pass on.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Mortality wasn’t so foreign to her own darker thoughts, even as a little girl. It was one of the earliest fears a child could know.

Death meant the end. Unless, of course, one wasn’t bound by the normal constraints of mortal life.

Like the princesses, the elves and fey in their forests, or the vampires.

Princess Celestia hummed an affirmative. “Exactly that,” she murmured. “And saying those goodbyes the first time hurt her quite a bit, and affected her as it so often does her kind.”

“Meaning?”

“Rarity, imagine if you could change that—remove the possibility of dying with age. Like a vampire can with little more than a simple trade of blood for blood.”

Oh.

Her sapphire eyes went wide. That, well, wasn’t something she’d been quite prepared to hear. 

At least it made her heart dislodge from her throat, if only to take new residence in her stomach.

Princess Celestia turned to face away, looking out over the Royal Gardens. “Twilight’s definition of friendship is a tad warped, I’m afraid, because of that. Who she holds dearest, she aims to keep. Forever.” Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath through her nose, releasing it in a heavy sigh. “She just can’t stand the pain of watching them wither away. Something else she picked up from me, I suppose.”

“Oh?” The young woman couldn’t help but lean forward just a bit. Sure, it did make her seem a bit too much like a gossip in the presence of royalty, but she wouldn’t spread anything like this in her circles.

And, come on, who could possibly blame her with something so intriguing dangled in front of her like a carrot?

Unfortunately, Princess Celestia shook her head, denying her curiosity. “It’s not my place to share that tale,” she murmured. With a cough, she rose and smoothed out her lovely dress. Aloud, she said, “Thank you for taking that commission. I await the chance to witness the fruits of your labor with bated breath.”

The young woman scrambled to stand and bow lest she appear rude. Did all the princesses just move without warning and leave their subjects hastening to follow? 

None of her noble clients made any mention of such a habit.

Swallowing the lump which formed in her throat, Rarity managed to fix what she hoped was a polite smile upon her face. “I, er, hope I’m able to meet your expectations, then, your Highness.”

“Oh, I’m familiar with your work. I’m sure you’ll exceed them.” A coy smile played upon her lips, Princess Celestia turned to face her castle, humming a low note. “I suspect it’s Twilight’s expectations you’ll have to meet, since she’s rendered you so—ah—stricken.” 

“I—but—what—Princess!” Again, where was the warning that the royals were like this?

She laughed. “Ah! I can see now why she was so animated that night, and why she’s so eager for this one.”

Rarity’s very breath hitched. Lady Twilight Sparkle, former Regent of the Night, animated? Eager?

For her?

Why did her mouth feel so dry all of the sudden?

And why, when Princess Celestia glanced back and chuckled, did she feel like a mouse walking through an alleyway of cats?

“If you decide to pursue that affection, just remember: some offers warrant careful consideration.” She turned and began to walk back to the castle. “Sometimes it’s worth considering the right to be selfish against those around you.”

Only after she’d made it to the end of the path did Rarity remember she was supposed to keep pace. Running in heels, she noted, still wasn’t fun.





Glittering blue stilettos clicked against the cobblestone pathway leading up to Canterlot Castle. Fancy carriages bearing the crests and colors of noble houses and rich companies of varying industry lined the driveway, and the voices and polite laughter of the attendees floated through the air as they all made their way to the beautiful castle, lit up like a beacon of splendorous light against the canvas of the night sky.

It was hardly her first social event. Certainly, Fancy Pants and Fleur de Lis had been quite keen on exposing her to the high-end, glitz and glam that would so comprise her clientele. Not to mention how to interact with and best relate to those old family heirs who had more money than they could ever hope to spend—some quite literally so.

I think that stallion might cost more than I’ll make this season, she mused with a wry look at a rather gorgeous palomino. The little girl, the same one who still clung to those childhood fantasies and tales, almost managed to spark the want to reach out and run a hand through his mane.

A single stern look from the driver was enough to send little Rarity scampering to hide behind her adult self’s dress.

With an awkward smile, she hurried along until she found herself in line with the rest. Glancing toward the front, she noticed a pair of guards in the ceremonial armor of the courts checking the guests in—the representative of Princess Luna’s sporting the same haunting crimson eyes as Lady Twilight, and a pair of dangerous fangs poking down from behind his upper lip.

Rarity quickly delved into her purse and fished out the card. Just in time, too, as she looked up just in time to be met with the vampire guard’s eyes.

He almost seemed to pierce straight into her very being. The guard held out his hand to accept the card, his eyes only flitting down to check for a bare instant before they returned to capture heres again. A hint of recognition flashed in his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitched before he gestured her inside.

“Welcome the the Winter Solstice Social,” he murmured. “Their Highnesses and Lady Sparkle are delighted you could join us.”

Rarity tried to pretend her heart hadn’t fluttered at the sound of her name. She tried to tell herself she just gave a little bow of her head, then strode inside with all the practiced grace and pageantry Fleur had drilled into her head.

The way the guard’s eyes glittered told of how her face betrayed her feeling.
> 4. Keepers of Night
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

If Rarity had thought the splendor of Canterlot Castle was enough to render her imagination inadequate during her visit, the sight before her was overkill. 

It looked as though someone had read that very thought and decided to take things a step or three further, just to show that she couldn’t begin to fathom what magic they could work.

The banners had been replaced by sparks of gold and silver which came together in a dance between sun and moon, the visage of the eternal harmony between night and day restored at last. With them, paintings from an age long forgotten had replaced some of the more classical pictures of Princess Celestia and Lady Sparkle’s rule—now, the sisters stood side by side in some; in others, they stood in their respective courts, surrounded by loving attendants; and in others still, they were accompanied by their young students:

Princess Cadence, Lord Shining Armor, and Lady Twilight Sparkle. The students they each taught, and the one they shared together.

Rarity didn’t bother pretending that didn’t sound like something straight out of a classical romance era novel.

The Little Folk, the lesser fey who loved to dance and play in the meadows and glens and through the flowers, flitted about like tiny bulbs of multicolored light, giggling and crooning at each guest who passed beneath. With them, pixies and sprites waved down from the planters of jasmine and moon lilies hanging from silver wall hooks.

The décor itself was as much a celebration of Princess Luna’s return and the mending of ties with her sister as the event itself. Fitting, really. And it only became more clear as Rarity followed the crowd through the double doors leading into the ballroom and had her breath promptly stolen away.

Streamers of regal purple and midnight blue began at opposite ends of the bannisters above, entwining around the wooden beams until they met at the stone columns and wound together all the way down to the very base. The ballroom itself was crowded with nobles, high-end businessmen and women, pale-skinned vampire lords and ladies, foreign dignitaries from far off lands, and even those elegant, inhumanly beautiful elves and Sidhe, the high fey, had come from their forests to grace Canterlot Castle with their presence. A pair of young Sidhe, one boy with lime green hair and the other midnight blue, darted through the crowd, laughing and pulling other children into their games. 

Much to the chagrin of all those noblemen and women who so prided themselves on image above all else.

Rarity had to allow herself a moment to smile and take it all in. So many of the most powerful men and women in the world—mortal or otherwise—all in the same room. All here to see Princess Luna’s grand return to the public light.

At the far end of the room, she spotted them. The Royal Family and eldest vampire lords, and with them, their closest allies in the elven and fey courts.

Princess Celestia looked stunningly beautiful, even more so than when they’d met that morning. Her dress was a radiant display of oranges and reds, blended together like tongues of fire. Glittering gold jewelry adorned her fingers and a single gold chain with a pendant displaying the sun and moon dancing together hung around her neck. 

Her smile? Well, Rarity had to say, it was more dazzling than the one she’d been greeted with—and why shouldn’t that be so? Her sister had returned to her at last. Her house was whole.

In her company, were Princess Cadence, looking radiant in a powder purple dress and golden tiara, and her husband, Lord Shining Armor, clad in his blood red ceremonial Knights of the Dual Crown jacket with countless ribbons and medals decorating his breast, much to the delight of their newborn daughter, Flurry Heart. The Princess of Love planted a kiss on her undead husband’s cheek, then turned to clasped hands and listen with rapt attention to a beautiful Sidhe woman clad in a blank dress, gleaming green eyes with catlike pupils, and a crown of twisted silver resting atop a mane of long green hair which fell down to her waistline. The Queen of the Fey, Chrysalis, had come in person?

Truly, an auspicious evening. Yet there was no sign of either Princess Luna or Lady Sparkle, much to Rarity’s disappointment.

Where ever could they be? Surely the vampiress wouldn’t allow her princess to be late to her own return party? It was she, after all, who stressed the importance of making the right impression that fateful night she’d commissioned Princess Luna’s dress. What in sanity’s name could be keeping them, then?

Her thoughts turned back to Lady Sparkle’s words that night. The vampiress had been surprisingly frank with some of her concerns regarding her princess. Namely, her social skills.

Or, more to the point, her utter lack thereof, coupled with a rather unfortunate case of anxiety.

Rarity managed to smoothly snag a glass of wine off the refreshments table with a nod to the young man pouring the glasses and bring it to her lips for a drink, a handy trick Fleur had taught her to hide an untimely smile or look of surprise. This, of all places, would be the worst to lose face.

If her worry should be realized, there was little she could actually do to help. In one of her harlequins, this would be right about the time the protagonist—the precocious little thing—would drop her wine glass, let it shatter upon the tile floor, and dash through the castle until she found that object of her affection and beat back all her problems with love, passion, and a good helping of wit.

In reality, that would probably get her a stay in the Royal Guard’s finest accommodations for a few days before she was brought to trial for attempting to break into one of the Royal Suites and harassing a Crown Princess and noble.

Not quite the ending to the story she envisioned for this eve.

On the other hand, Lady Sparkle visiting her in jail to demand just what in heaven’s name she was thinking might just add a bit of spice to things. Certainly some possibilities …

Two sharp thuds against the tile floor brought all conversation to a halt and directed Rarity’s wandering mind to focus and pay heed. A squat man in his mid fifties clad in a black suit and purple and blue striped tie stood in the doorway, his head inclined and eyes half-lidded. 

If she didn’t know better, Rarity might think he needed to retire a bit earlier.

“Ladies and gentlemen, nobles of the courts, esteemed guests and friends,” he said with a nod, his rich voice carrying over the room. “May I present Her Royal Highness, Princess Luna, Herald of the Night, Protector of Dreams, and Slayer of Python. Accompanying her this evening, Lady Twilight Sparkle, Commander of the Night Legions and Lady in Waiting to Princess Luna.”

He took a big step to the side, then folded one arm across his belly and bowed at the waist. Rarity couldn’t help but let herself stand on tiptoe and crane her neck to try to get a glimpse of the pair as they entered.

She wasn’t alone. Like someone had simply taken all those social norms drilled into every man, woman, and child in high society and just tossed them into an open fire, each person openly gawked, like they were children watching a parade. Each of them so eager to see the long-lost princess they’d only known in story and song.

Much like her sister, Princess Luna had been done a great disservice by those artists who tried so hard, yet fell so woefully short.

Everyone who so craned to get a glimpse needn’t have done so, for Princess Luna stood head and shoulders taller than any in the room save for her sister or the Queen of the Fey. Her midnight blue hair shimmered with starlight and comets and flowed in an ethereal breeze, her teal eyes seemed to dazzle like glittering stars. Her dress—Rarity’s finest work, if she could be afforded but a second to preen—was a long, flowing piece, perhaps the slightest touch lighter than her hair, that sparkled in the light with her every movement, as did the obsidian crown and matching bracelets adorning her form. Her soft, bow shaped lips were painted the same color as frozen raspberries, spurring thoughts of the nipping breeze and falling snow just outside the frosted windows.

She was a stunning beauty, the likes of which only her fellow princesses could hope to match.

Yet, she didn’t carry herself as such.

Princess Luna’s eyes flitted about, the corners of her mouth twitched and steps slowed as though she were a young girl who happened upon her arguing parents. 

Rarity just happened to glance down at the princess’s right hand, just in time to see it happen—it was but a little tell, barely more than a twitch of her fingers and sudden clenching into a fist. No, not a fist. She was grasping at something that wasn’t there.

Fortunately, Lady Sparkle was at her side, looking every bit that ageless beauty with enchanting crimson eyes and dress the same color as the blood she so craved. But the Lady of the vampire court cared not for her own image or what impression she made—hers was written throughout history. She was there for her princess.

That much was evident, Rarity noticed, in the way she so smoothly matched Princess Luna’s step and subtly brushed the tips of her fingers against the fretting princess’s knuckles. Just enough that she began to unclench her fist and, without breaking stride, bumped her hand against Lady Sparkle’s.

They continued on together in that manner. Princess Luna trying her best to maintain a stately aura to her smile and stay strong beneath the gazes of all the guests, and Lady Sparkle with her, right within view and easy reach for support and comfort.

The crowd politely parted for them, bowing their heads in deference. A sudden shift that left Rarity standing in the middle of the ballroom. Alone.

And quite well in their path.

Crimson, slitted eyes met her own and pierced through to her very soul. In Lady Sparkle’s gaze, Rarity could swear she saw a spark of recognition and something more.

The slightest upward tick on the right side of her mouth certainly hinted at such. She held Rarity transfixed with but a look, then, with the slightest little flit to the side, gave silent prompting:

Step to the side with the rest so my princess may pass, that look seemed to say.

With a little gasp—and very nearly dropping her wine glass—Rarity made to scurry to the side to try to slip into the crowd and hide, her cheeks aflame. She cursed her lapse. What a way to begin the evening. Perhaps the ground could just open right up and swallow her then and there, anything would be better than the looks from crowd she’d only just noticed.

A feeling which only billowed like a wildfire beneath heavy winds when she noticed someone else staring at her, though not with any sort of disdain or mockery for her apparent lack of decorum.

Princess Luna’s eyes held something more akin to recognition and a hint of wonder before they flitted to meet Lady Sparkle’s. The corners of her mouth tugged into a knowing smile, the sort Rarity knew so well from her own mother and sister, despite the attention.

For a bare moment, Lady Sparkle seemed to falter. She glanced between Rarity and her princess, a poorly crafted mask of innocence and confusion worn upon her face.

A mask which faltered when the Princess of Night bit her lip as if to withhold laughter. Then, she returned her attention to Rarity and actually began to stride forward at normal pace.

Enough to make the young dressmaker linger in place just within her path, a mere step from fading back into the crowd. And as the Princess of Night drew level with Rarity, she stopped and turned to face her fully.

The sharp intake of breath from the assembled guests nearly stole the air from the room, then came absolute silence as they watched and waited. And why not?

Princess Luna and Lady Sparkle had just stopped to acknowledge the foolish woman who stood in their path—someone might just be making an unexpected visit to the Royal Guard’s finest accommodations after all! 

No such cry of outrage or stern words came.

Instead, the Princess of Night smiled and spoke in a soft voice which seemed to echo throughout the room, “Twilight tells me I have you to thank for this dress.” 

Rarity blinked, nodding slowly. She didn’t dare speak.

“You have my sincerest gratitude. Your work is like none I’ve seen in my years.” She glanced between Rarity and Lady Sparkle, mischief danced in her eyes. “Perhaps we’ll see more of one another in the coming days.”

“Your Highness,” Lady Sparkle muttered with a meaningful glance ahead.

Her princess’s smile only widened. “Yes, of course. Pleasantries can wait a while longer.” She gave a little nod to Rarity, then turned to resume her procession until at last she met her fellow princesses and rest of the Royal Family and friends, and greeted each with a smile and hug.

Rarity had about three seconds to actually appreciate the scene of the happy family reunited in public for the first time in a thousand years.

Three seconds before she was surrounded on all sides by her fellow guests and subject to a thorough questioning as to when and how she’d won herself that commission. And, more importantly, when she’d be taking her next.

For perhaps the first time in her life, Rarity wasn’t entirely sure she wanted it.

Storybook endings weren’t exactly made with big crowds mobbing the heroine, and touching scenes such as the one she’d only just gotten to glimpse were far and few between.





By the time Rarity managed to extricate herself from the throng of guests clamoring for her attention, she was shocked to find her own dress not in tatters and her perfectly coiffed hair intact. Quite a change from her early years, when she could scarcely hope to get a look, let alone a noble to take the time to talk.

The word of royalty certainly had an impact. 

Of course, she couldn’t very well just blow off so many potential clients, no matter how she wanted to find some way to edge closer to Lady Sparkle or at least grab her attention—and in fact, she hadn’t! Had she thought to bring her purse, Rarity would dare wager she might leave with half of the realm’s most powerful people’s business cards at her disposal. All ready to be put in line for her works and contacted at her leisure.

Though that last bit came about only as a result of her commission for royalty.

So with a promise to take appointments in the coming weeks—and a couple pointed looks with emphasis that theirs should be first in line—Rarity did manage to escape to the safety of the drinks table. Another glass of wine would do well to grant her some reprieve.

A little break before she tried to wade back in and see if she could manage to catch Lady Sparkle’s attention again. 

“Well, well, someone’s been keeping secrets from us, hasn’t she dearest?” a familiar voice drawled, full of teasing. “Who could have ever thought she’d do such a thing?”

Rarity turned, a sheepish smile spread across her features, and ducked her head as she faced her benefactors and friends, Fancy Pants and Fleur de Lis. “Lady Sparkle insisted on secrecy?” she offered. 

Fleur de Lis rolled her eyes and idly rolled her glass about in her hand. “Ignore my husband, you know how he loves to act like a schoolboy.” She made a point to ignore how he turned and stuck his tongue out in reply—whether an actual habit or a want to indulge in irony, Rarity couldn’t say—and took a sip of her wine. “We had heard from Princess Celestia that there were plans in the works to commission a dress in secret. I should have known by the way she smiled when we recommended you.”

Heat spread through her cheeks. “I-I appreciate your recommendation, regardless. It means a lot.” 

“Of course. And, naturally, I can see you put every bit of your heart and soul into that piece.” The former model nodded toward something over Rarity’s shoulder. “Our fair princess looks as lovely as her night sky, and I daresay she looks quite pleased with the impression she’s made.”

Turning, Rarity took a moment to survey the Royal Family once more. Sure enough, there was Princess Luna standing close by her elder sister, smiling and laughing as they talked with the rest. Every now and again, some nobleman or noblewoman would venture near to engage and gesture to her dress, no doubt giving their compliments to the figure she struck upon her return. 

Oh, the way her face just lit up when they complimented her so.

And how the vampiress standing just a step or two to her left, in the company of Lord Armor, Princess Cadence, and the Queen of the Fey, smiled approvingly as she watched each and every one come speak with her princess and former teacher.

The heat filling and coloring her cheeks drifted low to billow within her chest. “Yes,” Rarity said softly. “Yes, she does.”

“Truly a feather in your cap, I should think.” Fancy Pants was at her side, humming a tune to himself. “Though I think someone else has caught our young designer’s eye.”

Fleur moved in on her opposite side. “Indeed. Quite an eye she has—Lady Sparkle, unless I’m mistaken she’s pining to join her brother and sister-in-law …”

The young dressmaker let out a squeak, then hid her face behind a hand. “Don’t say it so loud!” she whispered, her voice shrill and strained. Glancing about, she fidgeted in place. Why couldn’t one of her talents be teleportation or invisibility?

Her benefactors shared matching smirks, like a pair of sharks who smelled blood in the water. “She did glance over while you were surrounded, didn’t she dearest?” Fleur purred.

“Quite so, darling.” His monocle glinting, Fancy paused to sip his wine and said, “So, is that glass of wine for comfort or a bit of courage before you make your way over?”

“What makes you think I’m going over there?” Rarity asked with feigned disinterest.

“You haven’t looked away from them since we pointed them out, for one.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him grinning like the twelve-year-old boy Fleur claimed he still was. “You’re wearing a new dress you’ve made special for the evening for another, and, of course I just know you.”

He did.

Damn him.

Rarity blew a breath through her nose and aimed a glare at the grinning gentleman. “Fancy, what I’m about to say is something you will never again hear at such a high-class event and it pains me that I’m going to use verbiage I’d hear from my sister—so I want you to know that I genuinely mean it when I say that you suck.”

The warm chuckle which came in reply only served to stoke her ire. That blasted man thought he knew her so well—he actually thought he knew her so well he could just read her like an open book!

The nerve of that man! And his wife, for that matter! 

That they both had the gall to grin so openly when she huffed, drained the rest of her glass, and began to walk toward the gathering of royals, trying her level best to look as though she belonged. 

Of course she belonged! For heaven’s sake, she’d just dazzled a crowd full of nobles thanks to a secret commission for Princess Luna, ordered by Lady Sparkle herself! Her ticket, as it were, had been punched.

Easier said, though. Far easier. When she had approached Princess Celestia a few hours prior, it had been during court, when she received her subjects and listened to their cases or needs. Here? Now? 

Would they be so welcoming?

It was these thoughts, above all else, which gave her pause and guided the young dressmaker to alter course as innocently as possible, her new destination, just a few steps away from one of the windows with a lovely view out over the Royal Gardens and a glimpse of a lonely, empty balcony. She drank in a deep breath and forced herself to look through the window, cursing her cowardice all the while.

To think she could come asking after Lady Sparkle, but not actually follow through. And so soon after earning Princess Luna’s favor in front of everyone, no less.

Pathetic.

Rarity squeezed her eyes shut, releasing that breath slowly. The frosted window fogged and spurred memories of lazy nights spent cuddling her girlfriends and drawing faces or shapes.

Idly, she wondered if Lady Sparkle would entertain such folly or call it childish. Or if she might smile that cryptic, fanged smile and watch in amusement herself.

She stole a quick glance over her shoulder to watch the vampiress once more. Good heavens, Lady Sparkle was stunning—striking, just as she’d told Princess Celestia, in fact. Yet, gracious enough not to outshine her princess, as a proper Lady in Waiting and friend at such an event.

Somehow it just made her all the more lovely in Rarity’s eye. Paradoxical, perhaps, to some. But such generosity and thoughtfulness—well—they weren’t commonplace.

And, frankly, a dress as crimson as blood just fit her too perfectly, even if she had decided to forgo that lovely collared cape. Though, the low cut did serve well to draw the eye and spur more than a few fantasies and visions. The fluidity of her muscles as she turned to murmur something to the royals and the sensuous sway in her hips as she walked away, passing through the dance floor with a wide berth on all sides, toward the entrance to some side room and the doorway leading out to that lonely balcony.

A few of those treacherous visions in Rarity’s head began to take deeper root. Who was to say something couldn’t happen on that balcony?

Her face flushing, she shook herself and closed her eyes again. “Idiot,” Rarity scolded herself. “Such an idiot, I’m like a child playing adult.”

“If any in love have not felt the same, I shall eat this dress you made me.”

When Sweetie and her friends pestered her later on her reaction, Rarity would swear quite vehemently that she did not shriek. Nor did she nearly jump out of her heels and drop her wine glass! Completely ridiculous accusations, all fabrications! No matter what anyone said!

The mirth dancing in the purple and teal eyes of Princesses Cadence and Luna only made her wish she could add time spells to her repertoire. Alas, they were not, so there was only one thing to be done.

She bowed at the waist. “Y-Your Highnesses! I-I’m sorry you had to—I didn’t mean to speak so coarsely in your presence, I mean!”

“Okay, you and Auntie Celestia were absolutely right about her.” Princess Cadence beamed. “She is adorable when flustered!”

“Isn’t she just? The way she and Twilight flushed so when I praised her reminded me of the old days.” Laughing, Princess Luna shook her head. “The old days. I sound positively ancient talking like that.”

“To be fair—”

“Not another word, young lady, or I’ll share a few of your tales. Tia and I did share.”

A shiver ran through the Princess of Love, but she kept her smile. “Well, that’s not quite what brings us over here, does it? Though, you were a bit wrong—that thread between them is more than a little pink, trending toward a deep red right about now.”

Princess Luna gave a happy hum. “Is it? From both ends?” At her niece’s nod, she eyed Rarity with a coy smirk. “The mind does wander, no? Rather understandable that you might feel worry over seeking Twilight out by yourself.”

Rarity let her eyes flit downward. There wasn’t really anything she could say to counter or steer the conversation other than a rather lame, “I’m glad you liked the dress.”

“I love it, actually. It reminds me of my stars. I’m quite glad Twilight went behind my back to commission it.” Rarity looked up just in time to catch the Princess of Night winking. “Don’t tell her that, though. She and her brother do so love being proven right, and one of them has to be kept in line.”

Princess Cadence simply rolled her eyes. “If this weren’t your night, I’d shove you into the pond.”

“You’d certainly try.”  Princess Luna nodded her head in Lady Sparkle’s direction, her eyes never left Rarity. “I am no Princess of Love, though I do have her opinion backing mine. The opportunity you seek is there, but such windows only remain open for so long.”

Beneath the gazes of the two princesses, Rarity gaped. Her mouth worked wordlessly, she glanced between they and the vampiress continuing on her path outside. “You expect me to just … just go to her and what?”

It was Princess Cadence who nodded first. “Love requires action, Rarity. You’re young enough to take a risk or two, and you’ve earned the approval of three princesses, if that’s the silly little holdup you’re lingering on.”

Again, she looked down. The tile was certainly interesting this evening. “She’s above my station.”

“Funny,” the Princess of Love replied. “I was just a little orphan girl Celestia had taken in when Shining told me he loved me and wanted to hold me forever. It hasn’t mattered since. And, again, approval of three princesses.” 

Fingers as soft as silk cupped her chin and tilted her head up until she met Princess Cadence’s eyes.

“You’ll never get anything in life if you don’t try. I watched you prove that much in fashion.” She nodded toward the balcony just as Lady Sparkle slipped outside. “The worst she’ll do is tell you no.”

The words sparked something within her. Wasn’t that always what she told herself when she was trying to get that foot into the fashion industry? Rejection was the worst thing they could give, but it wouldn’t destroy her.

And she had faced rejection before. Several times.

Each time just made her better for it.

Rarity drained the last of her wine, then set the glass on the window sill and took a deep breath.

The princesses nodded and stepped to the side to allow her passage. “Go get her, Rarity,” Princess Cadence praised. 

“She doesn’t bite.” Princess Luna smirked and raised her brows. “Unless you ask nicely.”

It was no easy task to ignore how that pesky burn filled her cheeks and spread to the nape of her neck as she turned on her heel and strode toward the balcony with the eyes of two princesses on her every step of the way.

All the while, she let her gaze linger unabashed on the beautiful vampiress awaiting her on that balcony. Through each window she watched Lady Sparkle stop near the railing and rest her hands upon the cool stone edges, her back to Rarity, like a scene straight out of her novels. 

Which made her the daring suitor making the first move for love.

Small comfort, in an odd way, but she would have to take it. Rarity steeled herself for the trial to come and tore her gaze away from the figure in the window as she rounded the corner and stepped through the open doorway with a flutter in her heart and skin tingling with nerves.

She made it two steps out onto the balcony before she noticed something amiss. Namely, someone.

Lady Sparkle was no longer by the railing. She was gone. Not gone, as in, Rarity saw her springing across the lawn when she hurried over to the balcony railing herself to see if she’d jumped or gone as in she was hiding behind the cushions set out for comfort.

She was just simply gone like a puff of smoke.

An icy breath across the back of her neck made her hair stand on end, drawing a shaky gasp. “Stalking a vampire so openly?” Lady Sparkle whispered in her ear, her lips teasing the delicate skin. “Did I not warn you against making yourself so enticing, Rarity? One might think you’re asking for a bite.”

For the second time that evening, Rarity found herself having to make a suitable alibi just in case some gossip spread word that she’d shrieked again. She spun around in surprise, her heel caught on the tile and sent her stumbling.

Or it would have were it not for the firm hands which caught her by her elbows and held her upright and close against Lady Sparkle’s chest. Her touch felt as cold as ice, like a body completely devoid of any heat. 

The vampiress’s crimson pupils shone with humor. “And falling into my arms with such a heated blush as well.” Lady Sparkle grinned and bared her fangs. “My dear, if you’re trying to avoid looking so delectable, you’re doing a terrible job.”

Nothing Rarity did could spare her from the way her face flushed and burned like the surface of a hot stove. A feeling which only served to make her take extra note of the gentle hands still holding her by the elbow, those cold fingers brushing along her skin in a gentle caress, like a lover’s subtle teasing.

As soon as she made the connection, Lady Sparkle gave a rumbling, inhuman purr from the back of her throat and released the smaller woman. “Whatever your intent,” she said, “I’m glad you finally worked up your nerve. I owe you my thanks.”

“Oh? I mean, what ever for?” Rarity asked.

“Rarity, I know you’re young and new to this, but please,” Lady Sparkle chided. “Do you really think a princess just stops to voice favor to someone without reason? Do you think Princess Luna, who is literally a woman a thousand years out of touch, would? And I do say that affectionately.”

“Of course.” Pausing a beat, Rarity bit her lip to try and hide a smile. “Please tell me the one she wanted to wear wasn’t going to be one of those frumpy things with frills and that she didn’t fight for it.”

The vampiress laughed, her eyes twinkling merrily. “I’ll have you know I used to wear the frilliest of dresses when I was a little vampire myself. And I’m currently on a grounding because of my ‘insolence’,” she replied with mock air quotes.

“Insolence?”

“That’s what we’re calling me going behind her back to commission you, then hiding all her old dresses to force her to look at yours. Don’t take offense, though. I’d wager she just wants an excuse to keep me around the castle for another week or so.”

Pure reflex allowed Rarity the chance to cover her mouth to disguise a fit of giggles as a couch. Of all people, Lady Sparkle? Grounded?

Oh, if she didn’t think Sweetie would spread it all throughout Canterlot, it would be such a tale.

Lady Sparkle closed the distance between them once more, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Giggling at me now as well? You do love to live dangerously.” She licked her lips slowly, her tongue lingering almost sensuously on the tips of her fangs. “She did mention your company would be quite welcome.”

Her mirth caught in the back of her throat. “J-Just a little bit ago, you mean?”

“No. I don’t.” 

Cold fingers brushed against her skin once more, tracing circles in the back of her free hand. Rarity tried to force herself to breathe, she tried so hard to pretend her heart didn’t skip a beat as she looked up into those blood red eyes and imagine what sort of company she might serve.

“You seem to enjoy being an enticing little thing,” Lady Sparkle murmured softly. For once, the teasing, knowing tone in her voice seemed absent. “I wonder if you might be so bold to dance with a vampire as well.”

The only reason Rarity knew her heart hadn’t stopped was the steady drumming in her ears. “I-I—us—you?” she sputtered. A gust of wind blew across her skin, drawing a shiver and step forward as if to try and steal away some of the vampiress’s body heat—if only she had any. “Yes, Lady Sparkle,” she forced through clenched teeth.

To her credit, Lady Sparkle didn’t tease. Instead, she offered an understanding smile as she took Rarity’s hand in hers. “Perhaps we might dance inside so you don’t freeze. The curse of my kind, unfortunately. However.” She arched a slender brow, then thought better and shook her head. Her smile never faltered. “Never mind. After you.”

Her head spinning and heart racing, Rarity gave a nervous little smile and dip of her head before turning to lead the vampire noblewoman back into the ballroom. 

All eyes fell upon the pair the instant they stepped through the open doorway together. Then, they all began to cluster together into their groups—noble, businessmen, and vampire alike—and the muted, snakelike hiss of hundreds upon hundreds of voices whispering filled her ears.

Lady Sparkle knew just how to trail a comforting thumb along the back of her hand and continue her pace, the perfect way to send those pesky nerves drowning beneath an anticipating shiver and racing heart until they reached the very center of the dance floor. Then, with a quick tug, she spun Rarity about and caught her around the waist, her opposite hand still clutching Rarity’s as they stood nose to nose.

Her world was naught but a warm smile, perfect, alabaster skin, and gorgeous crimson eyes which pierced into her very soul.

Still, she squirmed beneath the others’. “L-Lady Sparkle,” she whispered. “Are you sure this is—”

“Are you dancing with them?” Lady Sparkle teased. “Or me?”

“Er. You?”

“Exactly.” The vampiress squeezed her hand. “So ignore the crowd or your partner might feel neglected. I can tell you she certainly isn’t thinking of anyone or anything else.”

Focus.

Rarity took a breath and nodded slowly. She could certainly do that. In all honesty, the most difficult thing was ignoring that incessant tingle down the back of her neck she felt with all those eyes staring. Focusing her gaze, on the other hand …

Who in the world would want to look anywhere else? 

With another squeeze of her hand, Lady Sparkle gave a little nod off to the side where a string quartet awaited. Then, as they began to play a slow, upbeat waltz, the vampiress traced her finger along the inside of Rarity’s thumb and took the first step of their dance. Like a leap across the Ghastly Gorge together.

A leap Rarity followed quite happily. Damn the fall if it came.

What awaited on the other side was far too sweet to refuse.

Rarity had to send silent thanks to Fancy and Fleur for taking the time to teach her the proper steps, just in case such an opportunity presented itself. She followed along with Lady Sparkle in perfect sync—quite a feat, given the little difference in height and the pacing she favored. 

The vampiress did flow with the music, but her every movement, every step was taken with such sensuous liquidity that it only served to highlight her unnatural beauty and grace. If ever poetry could be put to action, Lady Twilight Sparkle had it in spades.

Yet, somehow, she was generous enough not to overplay her skill. By all right, she should’ve looked as though she were dancing with an utter child by comparison. That much, Rarity knew for certain.

But that telltale tingling sensation which came with being watched never left, nor did the hissing whispers, even through the music and dancers turning about as they joined—if anything, they managed to gossip at the same time! Quite a feat!

If only Rarity could find the reason to tear her attention away from Lady Twilight’s clutches.

After so long searching her out in history, she was held so close by the vampiress herself. Somehow books, stories, and gossip just didn’t mean anything.

The cool touch of her partner’s hands, however, did wonders to offer some reprieve from the heat which slowly bled into the very air around them as the first song song died and was reborn in a livelier tune that favored the violinists nimble fingers and bow backed by the cellist artfully coaxing deep, soulful thrum.

Around them, dancers bowed and traded partners. Lady Sparkle simply held her fast and made no move to acknowledge any who might seek her hand.

“You’re a lovely dancer,” she praised softly as she guided Rarity to spin on her toes. “I wonder if you lead as well as you follow.”

Her confidence billowing in her breast, Rarity spun back into her partner’s embrace until her back was pressed against Lady Sparkle’s torso. She looked up and smiled. “A lady knows her place in your company.”

A snort of laughter came in reply. “Well played.” Lady Sparkle turned her into a more formal dancing pose once again and idly resumed that playful game with the inside of her thumb. “Yet you so enjoy setting bait for me.”

“And you, me.”

“Oh?”

Rarity brushed her thumb against Lady Sparkle’s knuckle, and was rewarded by the slightest intake of breath. “Appraising me in my own home?” she asked. “Calling me enticing? You’re not so easy to find in history, Lady Sparkle, but I doubt you’re the type to play with any peasant woman you come across.”

Humming, Lady Sparkle tugged her in close and leaned down to her level. Their noses lingered but a hair’s breadth apart. “You have a keen eye,” she whispered, her voice telling of excitement and a sense of eagerness. “Call me Twilight.”

Any thought to sputter some hackneyed insistence that she couldn’t possibly take such liberty was ambushed, viciously bludgeoned, and stuffed into a trunk by a tag team formed by her childhood and teenage selves. 

Unfortunately, they held no power over her flushing cheeks or stammering. “I-If that’s what you’d like,” Rarity replied, struggling to keep a shameless grin off her face. “Twilight.”

Another squeeze of her hand and caress of icy cold finger along the inside of her thumb joined together with a sudden brush of Twilight’s nose against hers. 

The rest of their dances were spent somewhere on cloud nine. Each song and dance seemed to just flow together without so much as a hint of pause or thought to step to the side or switch partners for a song. It was as if the entire world around simply faded and left only the pair of them together.

Only after Rarity finally managed to let her eyes leave that vision of inhuman beauty did she notice they’d stayed together so long the other pairs had formed a loose circle around them as they might for a couple who wished to stay together. 

A thought which brought a flutter of butterflies into her breast. “They seem to think you and I are together, Twilight,” she whispered.

“Yes they do.” The vampiress chuckled. “Does it bother you?”

“Not at all.”

“Good.” Twilight stopped dancing so suddenly Rarity took a step straight into her. She leaned down, bringing her face close enough to nuzzle her nose once more as she said, “Because I was thinking we might depart a bit early and discuss the prospect.”

Those butterflies whipped into a frenzy. “I-I thought you were grounded and confined to the castle,” Rarity blurted.

“I am, but that changes nothing.” A little tremble in her fingers earned a curious look. Twilight tried to disguise it as another of her teasing little caresses as she added, “Would you care to join me?”

The string quartet’s latest song ended with a soft croon of violin strings as polite applause filled the room. Rarity could hear Princess Celestia thank them for their beautiful music on her sister’s special night and mention something about a brief break for the group. Something about enjoying refreshments and Princess Luna’s want to speak with them in person.

She swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded slowly, afraid her voice might come out as naught more than a strangled squeak.

Twilight’s smile was as beautiful as the winter night. She let go of Rarity’s waist and, still clasping her hand, turned to guide her toward the door, out of the ballroom, past the guards all standing at post to guide and keep guests out of certain wings, and into the halls of Canterlot Castle.

More to the point, straight into one of those wings Rarity was certain she didn’t belong.





Starstruck though she was walking through Canterlot Castle hand in hand with Lady Twilight Sparkle—and fresh of a declaration of intent, no less— Rarity was at least aware enough to take a moment to savor her place. Where, exactly, one might ask?

The West Wing of Canterlot Castle. Or, as it had come to be known over the last thousand years or so, the Night Wing. Perhaps not the most inventive of names, but what else should they call the wing which housed the Regent of the Night and someday its returned princess?

Those bright, cheery portraits and stained glass windows had given way to a more gothic, fantastic style of art, depicting the world in shades of blue and purple which served to highlight the mystery and wonder waiting in the shadows. Images of Princess Luna playing with her vampire subjects, heralding naughty children back to bed, or battling nameless monsters fashioned from pure nightmare and hellfire graced the walls and windows. And quite a few of Twilight and Shining Armor too! 

“They kept your portraits up?” Rarity asked.

Twilight laughed and shook her head. “Luna and Celestia are far too proud to not keep some of mine up. There are a few in the East Wing too, I think. Probably a few they’ll try sneaking back into the foyer while I’m not looking.” She turned, guiding Rarity down another corridor. “They’ll argue it’s their right to be proud, I’m sure. Cadence and Shiny will just watch and smile, Chrysalis will laugh if she’s here for it.”

“You all seem like quite the family. Almost … normal.”

“Were you expecting that we’d be the model of propriety at all times after so long together? I’ll have to disabuse you of that notion and quickly,” the vampiress teased as they came to a stop before a lone door with wood as black as a moonless night and a silver handle. 

She turned to clasp both of Rarity’s hands in hers. Idly, she began to trace circles in Rarity’s skin, her icy cold touch sent shivers down the young woman’s spine.

They stood there in silence a moment. A small eternity with such shared anticipation and want in each.

Twilight looked down and smiled ruefully. “Twelve hundred and six years old,” she said, chuckling. “Twelve hundred and six years old and I still get like this around the women I like.” When she raised her head again, her face was less the picture of a vampire Lady and more that of just another woman with a heart. “None quite like this though.”

Rarity did her level best not to swoon. “Twelve hundred and six?” she repeated. “Darling, you must be joking—you don’t look a day over two hundred!”

Another laugh. “You’re sweet. And witty.” Twilight released one of her hands, idly rubbing her fingers against her palm. “You know, that night in the boutique wasn’t the first time I saw you. Just the first I had the chance to speak with you.”

“It wasn’t?” Blinking, Rarity tried to wrack her brain. “Where else—“

“Your last string of fashion shows. And a couple times in a club nearby. I’m quite versed in illusions. I was there to look for candidates to commission and I fell in love.” 

For the first time in ages, child, teen, and adult Rarity could agree on something.

There was no reason not to ask, “W-With me or my dresses?”

“I loved your dresses enough to commission you before any other were mentioned.” With a snap of her fingers and flash of raspberry light, Twilight opened the door to her bedroom. 

Rarity allowed herself to be led into the vampiress’s private chambers, her eyes flitting about to take in the décor as the door swung shut behind them. It was rather … girlish, honestly. For a vampire. 

Pictures and paintings of family and friends adorned the walls, vanity, and a wooden desk. A few amateur pieces, mostly of bats, vampires feeding, and a young vampiress sitting with a girl beneath the night sky, her face turned in to the crook of her neck as if to nuzzle in askance for a meal. Across the room, a sprawling bed with pillows in red silken sheets and a bat pattern comforter awaited.

She felt Twilight stop and slip behind her, wrapping her arms around Rarity’s waist in a loose embrace and setting her chin upon her shoulder.

“And you enough to risk my heart,” Twilight said softly, her voice tinged with nerves and excitement all her own. “For a woman more beautiful in body and mind than I could ever imagine.”

Rarity squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip. If she gave in and let out the squeal building in her chest, she’d simply die. She drew in a deep breath, then another. And a third just to be sure.

By Celestia, if this was a dream, she wanted to sleep forever.

She turned about in Twilight’s embrace and looked up into those beautiful crimson eyes. Practiced restrained stopped her from stealing a kiss, but only just. “Not risking again?” Rarity couldn’t help but ask.

Twilight shook her head. “I … maintain certain appearances for the country.” Slowly, her hands began to slide up Rarity’s sides and she took a step forward, prompting Rarity to take one back.

Back toward the bed.

“I’ve never married,” she continued. “I always bury myself in work when I feel myself falling in love. It just takes the edge off when I just …” she trailed off, swallowing a lump. “Cadence hates that I do it. Everyone in my family tells me I should try, even if it hurts to hear someone refuse it.”

Her shoulders trembling, Rarity dared to reach up to rest her hands upon Twilight’s. “Being turned?” At Twilight’s confused look, she ducked her head. “Princess Celestia said something about it earlier today.”

“Ah. Yes.” The vampiress began to trace circles upon her back, her fingers lingering just near the zipper as her touch sent tingles down Rarity’s spine. “I would be a liar if I denied it. I keep my friends forever. I’ve never quite managed to cope. So I’ve just never …”

She couldn’t say it.

Then again, who could in her position?

Rarity offered a comforting rub of her shoulders. Even immortals could feel such fear, it seemed. Confirmation of Princess Celestia’s words that morning.

But not quite the question on her mind at that moment.

“What changed it?” she asked. “If it’s not too much—”

“Luna,” Twilight interrupted. Her lips tugged into a nervous smile. “I brought her to the last show to make sure I was right in picking you. Then she caught me slipping out one night and insisted on joining me and saw you.” With a shaky breath, she added, “And when she saw how I looked at you, she told me I could either figure out a way to tell you myself by tonight, or she’d make an announcement.”

Well, well.

After a thousand years helping to run the country, Lady Sparkle was being repaid in full in the only way family knew how—meddling and steering her toward something she so craved.

Something they thought would make her whole.

“I would be a liar,” Rarity whispered as she rose up on the tips of her toes and slid her arms around Twilight’s neck. Their lips were but a hair’s breadth apart, if at all. “If I tried to tell you yes or no to being turned tonight.” Before Twilight could speak, she gave into temptation and stole a chaste kiss from those sweet, cool lips. “But I’d be a bigger liar if I told you I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life in your arms.”

Hope flashed across the vampiress’s features, and with it a slow, unabashed grin. “I can’t promise I won’t ask again even if you say no,” she blurted.

By the stars, she was just precious. Rarity stole another kiss and leaned up to whisper in her ear, “I can’t promise if we spend a single night in bed together clothed, I won’t be disappointed.” She drew back once more to fix Twilight with a sultry smile and flutter of her lashes. “Starting after you kiss me properly.”

Twilight blinked joyous tears from her eyes, then closed the distance and captured her lips in a heated kiss. One hand slid up to cup the back of Rarity’s head and entwine in her hair while the other took hold of the zipper and slowly, torturously tugged it southward.

Never before had the cool caress of wind upon naked skin or the feeling of a soft, warm bed upon her back felt so good.
> 5. On Eternity
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Much though she did portray the picture of a high-society lady, Rarity wasn’t exactly a stranger to that delightful feeling of waking up in the arms of a beautiful woman. A warm body, silken-soft hair upon her skin, a delicate nose nuzzling into the crook of her neck and teasing warm breath across her body, perhaps a bare leg wrapped around her hip and gentle arms holding her close.

Rarity awoke the morning after the Winter Solstice Gala with a mighty shiver and had to bite back a squeal as her own body registered the icy touch of the beautiful woman holding her so.

She smiled sleepily, bringing a hand up to gently caress her lover’s knuckles with her thumb. Perhaps this was a bit out of the norm for her fairytales. Wasn’t the main character supposed to be awakened by her lover, after all? 

Then again, this had all played out more like a whirlwind of events. Certainly more so than those stories. As the sleep slowly receded from her eyes and mind, Rarity allowed her thoughts to wander back to what Twilight had told her before they’d retired.

It hadn’t quite been providence that guided the vampiress’ steps up to Rarity’s front door. No, it was she who drew the eyes of a gorgeous vampiress during her fashion shows and some occasional nights spent at the clubs to relax after a long week. That, coupled with a need for a dress and a rather meddlesome princess, drew them together.

Twilight let out a contented sigh, her hand drifting lower and cold fingers trailing along Rarity’s bicep. “Mine,” she murmured, smiling into the back of the young woman’s neck, no doubt delighting in whatever dreams her mind had conjured.

Maybe it was a bit more like a fairytale than Rarity thought. Maybe, dare she think it, this was what it was like to be on the other side of the story. From the point of view of the one for whom the main character so longed.

Chuckling softly to herself, she leaned back into Twilight’s embrace, and was rewarded by a shiver as icy breasts pressed into her back. And to think my teachers thought I let my mind wander to silly things when I was in school. Eat your heart out, Miss Persnickety.

Rarity made to settle in and drift straight off to sleep again. And why not? For all intents and purposes, this was her happy ending—wrapped in Twilight Sparkle’s arms, the one true object of her affections, able to pierce through who knows how many centuries of isolating herself out of fear of loss.

Fear that one day, she might wake up without her beloved by her side and have to carry on her undying life alone once more. Unless, of course, certain changes were made.

Suddenly, sleep was the last thing on her mind.

Going from life as a mortal to that of an undying vampiress herself. If Rarity had to be entirely honest with herself, it was a prospect she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted.

Nor was it one she was certain she didn’t.

Her sapphire eyes opened slowly as a little frown tugged at her lips. Of all the things to interrupt such a perfect morning, why did it have to be such a troublesome line of thought? And while she was so comfortable and content and … well, not warm in body, but the warmth in her chest definitely counted!

But what should she do? Change or remain a human? Accept the gift of immortality, and with it, all the pain of watching her friends and loved ones die while she carried on? Or should she refuse and enjoy her lifetime with Twilight, knowing her lover would someday lay her to rest?

Such a morbid thing to consider. Yet, at the same time, Rarity simply couldn’t deny the sweetness or affection in the gesture. Still, that didn’t make her decision any easier. How in sanity’s name could it be made so?

Either way she looked at it, the result would be steepled in selfishness—a want to avoid watching her little sister, annoying and wonderful as she was, grow old while she didn’t, and the seductive whisperings in the back of her mind which spoke of endless affection in Twilight’s embrace.

Eternal life and love.

To Hell with fairytales, Rarity could write her own on that alone.

She blew a sharp breath through her nose, her nostrils flaring. Damn it all, I need to take a walk or something. I just can’t think through this while wrapped in her arms.

Of course, such a need would force her to fight both Twilight’s mighty embrace and her own desire to further savor it. A battle won with nothing short of an effort and strength of will worthy of the Founders themselves, despite that temptation. With a motion somewhere between a shimmy and a wriggle, Rarity began the arduous task of escaping a vampiress’s clutches.

It was a long and difficult battle. Twilight tried to hold her tight even in her sleep, and let out an almost pleading whine from the back of her throat at the loss of precious warmth. But still, she didn’t wake.

Her toes touched the carpeted floor, spurring a little hiss at the coldness. Carefully, Rarity slid off the bed and took a step back as she stood to her full height, letting out a deep breath. Though her escape wasn’t near as elegant or stealthy with all her squirming and struggling against both Twilight’s grip and her own desires. The latter all the more apparent as a stinging cold breeze drew a gasp and forced her to cross her arms over her chest, and sent shivers down her spine.

Clothes were definitely a must, she decided. Her eyes flitting about to locate everything, Rarity allowed herself a sheepish smile and crept forward to pick her crumbled gala dress off the floor.

Wearing the same dress she’d worn and designed specifically for the biggest social event of the year the morning after she’d disappeared with a Lady of the Night Court in the middle of the festivities, and in the middle of Canterlot Castle no less.

She was practically begging to embarrass herself.





Logically, Rarity knew full well she was quite out of the public eye as she crept through the empty halls of Canterlot Castle’s West Wing. 

The gala, of course, had long since ended. There was little chance some nosy gossip might see her and start whispering about the young woman bold enough to go to bed with Lady Sparkle and wander the castle in a wrinkled dress, even less that some vulture from the paparazzi or one of those columnists might jump out from behind the busts or spring from the shadows to hound her with questions. Rarity knew this for certain.

Logically.

Unfortunately, anxiety, especially that of the more social sort, is a funny little thing. A funny little thing that so happens to possess a great skill when it came to bashing logic in the head with a snow shovel and stuffing it into a trunk. All the more easy to whisper insidious things into the ears of innocent young women.

Rarity could feel her skin crawling, she could feel unseen eyes watching her from the walls, through the stained glass windows. Every which way she turned down the winding corridors, it was like the castle itself knew she didn’t belong and knew she’d committed a major faux pas, and had the audacity to wear it like some badge of honor.

Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. What sort of child was she, fretting over being watched?

It wasn’t like anyone who saw her leave with Twilight couldn’t have drawn the same conclusions anyway. The gossip train had long since left the station. Oddly enough, that revelation served well to relieve her of that blasted feeling. 

Though that relief came with a nice void for all that lingering feeling of awkwardness. What if one of the staff from the gala happened upon her like this? Or worse, what if Princess Celestia did?

Rarity might just go right ahead and die on the spot in that event. Maybe she could be a bit sly, though.

Maybe she could slip out, get a change of clothes, and sneak her way back into Twilight’s bedroom. Unmissed, unnoticed by the other princesses or staff, and with plenty of time to consider her options. Truly, the perfect plan.

Then, she turned left at the next corridor, and her heart leapt into her throat. 

Before her stood Princess Cadence and Queen Chrysalis, the fey Queen standing nearly a full head taller than the Princess of Love as they held hands and gazed into one another’s eyes. Nearby, that pair of fey boys seemed content to inspect their surroundings for anything that might be fun to alter or break.

“Shiny will complain about you leaving so soon,” Princess Cadence said, mirth tinging her voice as she stood on tiptoe to brush her nose against the fey Queen’s. “I’ll have no choice but to comfort him for days. He always mopes when you leave while the sun is up.”

If she thought her words might spur guilt, she was quite wrong. Queen Chrysalis smirked, her fangs glinting in the sunlight. “As well he should. That man deserves to be brought to heel every now and again. You’ve let him grow far too insolent and glib since we last embraced.”

Humming throatily, Princess Cadence stole a kiss and said, “You love making him ours though.”

“I love it when he remembers his place,” the fey Queen corrected with a sly grin. Her emerald eyes shone with mischievous delight. “If I find this pattern continues, I shall have no choice but to take drastic measures. You’ll both learn, once I have you in my realm.”

“Or you could just take our invitation and stay with us.”

“You’ve been asking for nine hundred and twenty-seven years.”

“Nine hundred and twenty-seven and a half.” Princess Cadence beamed. “And I’ll ask for nine hundred and twenty-seven and a half years more until you finally accept the offer.”

That fanged grin became a smoldering little smirk. Queen Chrysalis let out a purr and wrapped her arms around the smaller woman’s neck, drawing her into a deep kiss. 

Rarity averted her eyes just as she noticed Princess Cadence reaching up to cup the fey Queen’s cheeks and arched her back. Some things, she’d learned, didn’t need to be seen by an audience.

The muffled croon and telltale smack of lips before a rather bubbly giggle told her that decision was correct. Definitely some things for which couples—or would this be two-thirds of a triplet?—didn’t need an audience.

“Making out”, as Rainbow Dash would so eloquently put it, in the middle of the castle was one of them.

“Insolent woman,” the fey Queen purred, drawing Rarity’s eye once more. Her smirk had spread into a smoldering smile as she leaned down. Her long, turquoise tresses draped down to frame the princess’s face. “You’re not exempt, you know. I’ve little problem disciplining you as well.”

“Now there’s something I’ve been hearing but not seen since we met,” came Princess Cadence’s reply.

Though Queen Chrysalis scoffed, it did little to hide the warmth in her eyes. Then, her gaze flitted just past her lover, and those slitted emerald eyes captured Rarity’s and held her in place. A flash of recognition flitted across her face, then gave way to mischief.

The poor woman’s instincts screamed that she flee, but her feet simply refused to cooperate, even as she watched the fey Queen lick her fangs.

“And it seems that the little pet project of yours and Luna’s comes to steal your attention away,” she said, just loud enough for Rarity to hear.

“Oh?” Turning, Princess Cadence met Rarity with a bright smile and half-lidded, knowing look. She stepped back and leaned against her lover, humming happily. “Oh, yes, yes, yes she has! Oh, dear, we might have to talk about a stay in your realm after all. You know how much this one means to her.”

“If not for that and how much she needs it, I just might call it your debt.” Wrapping her arms around Princess Cadence’s shoulders, Queen Chrysalis buried her nose in those tricolored locks and planted a kiss atop her head. Then, she released her embrace and gave the Princess of Love a gentle push toward Rarity. “But you have business. I, on the other hand—” 

Suddenly, the fey Queen snapped her fingers. A spark of emerald magic flashed and split off into twin bolts which darted around and behind her, and latched onto one of each of the fey boys’ ears just before they managed to topple a beautiful vase from its stand.

The boys let out twin yelps and sprang back from their prize. They howled and hopped about, clutching their ears and pleading with all their little hearts for their mother’s mercy.

“We weren’t gonna break it!” the one with green hair cried.

His brother writhed and pranced on his toes. “Mom! Please! Thorax and I just wanted to see the pictures!”

“Then perhaps I’ll invite some mortals to your room, Pharynx, and allow them to play with your favorite ice sculptures,” the fey Queen replied cooly. She strode forth, her steps confident and stride unyielding, and made a little beckoning motion with her fingers. Her magic tugged her sons forth by their earlobes. “A fitting repayment, I should think, if you’d broken one of Luna’s vases—no less one of that age.”

Rarity watched dumbstruck, blinking at the sight. The fey, noble and wise amongst the fair folk, and they still acted so much like regular mortal families. In their own strange way, of course.

A bubbly laugh jolted her from her stupor. Princess Cadence shook her head. “Those two boys, I swear,” she said with a sigh and a fond smile. “Sometimes, I wonder if either of them ever matured past thirty.”

The dressmaker drew in her breath. “I’m not sure if you’re having me on, or—”

“Not at all!” Beaming again, Princess Cadence stepped forward until she stood just out of arm’s reach. “Pharynx turns fifty-eight in three months, Thorax turns forty-seven in two. We’ve got plans in the works to surprise them both, but don’t say anything.” She winked. “It’ll be our little secret.”

“You … Er, Your Highness, you do realize I don’t know them, right?”

“Not yet you don’t, but that never stops Pharynx from finding his way into trouble. Or Thorax from going right along with him. In the meantime, why don’t we take a little walk together? You certainly look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Something, indeed. “Am I so transparent?”

Princess Cadence shrugged. “When you get to be my age, you learn to read things.” Her eyes flitted down to Rarity’s dress, a bemused smile spread across her face. “Perhaps we might find you a change of clothes first, though. Would you like to borrow something, or shall we covertly make our way to your famous boutique so you can change into something more your own?”

Her cheeks flushing, Rarity fought the urge to cover her face and forced herself to squeak, “I-I think I’d prefer my own clothes if you don’t mind!”

The Princess of Love feigned a sigh. “Such a pity. I knew just the dress to sneak from Twilight’s collection. Oh well.” Quick as a flash, she caught Rarity by the wrist and tugged her down the same hallway Queen Chrysalis and her sons had gone. “Come along, dear! We’re burning daylight, after all, and we both have vampires expecting us this evening!”

Rarity couldn’t deny the prospect made her heart flutter so. 

Something about being expected by a beautiful woman made the most innocuous things all the more wonderful.





As it so turned out, Princess Cadence’s definition of “covert” was quite a sight different from Rarity’s. 

It wasn’t so much one thing that hinted at the fact as it was several all happening in series. 

No, it wasn’t just the way she beamed and hummed an old, nameless tune and held Rarity’s hand in a loose, friendly grip all the way through Canterlot Castle until they stepped through the grand entrance into the warmth of the late morning sun. Nor was it the sight of the chariot with two white stallions and a dapper gentleman in a black coat, though that did give her some inkling of what was to come. So too, did the way the heads of each man, woman, and child turned to track its progress through the city, through Platinum Terrace until they reached the border of Clover Terrace.

Or so she’d thought.

Nothing could have prepared her for how quickly the crowd of familiar faces emerged from their houses when the carriage turned into her neighborhood and slowed to a halt before her boutique, or how they gathered around in a semicircle, just close enough to gawk and stare as they eagerly awaited who might emerge.

This time, Rarity did bury her beet red face in her hands. “I think we need to discuss your definition of covert, Your Highness!” she squeaked for the umpteenth time.

Through the cracks in her fingers, Rarity could see the impish smile that flitted across the Princess of Love’s face before she hid it and feigned an innocent tilt of her head. “I was thinking it would be so overt, we’d be covert,” Princess Cadence sang. She winked and opened the door with a snap of her fingers. “Think of it as a little introduction into life dating a noblewoman. You’ll need to get used to this sort of thing.”

That little introduction, as she called it, was quite a bit more than what her words implied. This wasn’t some formal event she could prepare for ahead of time, let alone one at the castle or distant villa—this was her neighborhood, right in front of her own home.

And as she followed Princess Cadence and ducked through the door, the gasps and whispers all around her nearly made Rarity try her hand at a teleportation spell for the first time in years right then and there. She hurried up the path, all but dragging the beaming princess up the pathway leading to the front door of the Fount of Fantasies. 

Rarity fumbled to retrieve the key from her purse, and upon finally locating it, missed the lock thrice before she managed to slide it into place. “You’re not making this any easier,” she muttered to the giggling princess.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Princess Cadence shoot her a grin and run a hand through her hair. “When you’ve loved a fey Queen for as long as I have, you pick up a few things. Or just make old habits more pronounced.”

With a tiny frown, Rarity turned the key and pushed the door open, gesturing for Princess Cadence to enter first with a little motion of her hand. Once inside, she hurried to close and lock the door again.  

She let out a sigh. Who knew there could be such a thing as too much of the high life in such a short time?

A few steps away, Princess Cadence let out an approving hum. “Fount of Fantasies, indeed,” she said. “Very nice décor. Did you design it yourself or did you consult someone?”

“A little bit of both,” Rarity admitted. “I gave the basic sketch and concept, the designer took it and did a wonderful job bringing everything to life.”

“Ahhh, very nice. I don’t suppose you’d mind giving me her name later. I’ve been wanting to have a little work done on the sitting room in our villa and, no offense to Shiny, but my daughter has a better eye for interior decorating and she’s more wont to blow holes in my walls.”

Staring blankly seemed like an apt response. A baby who could blow holes in the wall. Why not? Things hadn’t gotten interesting enough in her life. 

Rather than pause in silent mourning as her more dramatic side demanded, Rarity turned to climb the stairs leading to her room up on the second floor, with Princess Cadence following in her wake. They moved quietly down the hallway until they reached the master bedroom, more because Rarity wasn’t sure if Sweetie and the girls had stayed the night rather than walk back to their loft and didn’t want to garner the attention of three squealing singers before they launched one of their little investigations than anything. 

Because if there was anything she needed on top of the questions fighting for space in her mind amidst the nerves at having one of the royal family in her home, it was those three pestering a princess.

That would be a surefire way to send that goodwill she’d somehow garnered up in flames.

Fortune smiled upon her and gave Rarity a moment’s reprieve. As her fingers brushed against the doorknob, she paused and turned to fix Princess Cadence with a sheepish grin. “You’ll have to forgive a bit of a mess. I tend to brainstorm at my desk late at night and don’t really clean it until the day after.”

“That’s fine.” Princess Cadence shook her head. “You should see my study some days. It’s a warzone.”

With that note of comfort, she twisted the knob and entered, her eyes found that mess of sketches and design notes littering her desk like a flurry of fallen snow. The wastebin was overflowing with the crumbled remnants of failed ideas she simply hadn’t thought to actually do away with properly, with several laying about on the carpeted floor.

“Mmm, yes, that’s a good start for a chaotically busy workstation,” the Princess of Love noted happily. “Though, the spider’s web of profiles and strands on my wall puts that to shame, dear. So, don’t feel at all like this is anything I’d be bothered by.” 

She seemed to glide over to Rarity’s closet and opened it with a waggle of her fingers so she could inspect what lay within. Again, she began to hum that old tune again, idly pulling outfits off the wrack to compare, then setting some aside while putting others back in place.

All the while, Rarity stood rooted on the spot, unsure if she should try to slip between the princess and her closet to make the decision herself. This wasn’t quite what she had in mind when she was thinking about slipping out for a few hours to find a change of clothes and think.

One of her dresses from the previous autumn for the Nightmare Night Fright Formal, a sleek black number that reached all the way down to her ankles and hugged her hips in all the right ways, floated up to hover before her, held aloft by a shimmering cerulean glow. The hemline and shoulders were her favorite on this piece, she’d fashioned them with black lace and woven them to look like spider webs.

“Er.” She blinked. “Princess, it’s not Nightmare Night.”

“You slept in Twilight’s room, for that girl every day is Nightmare Night.” Purple eyes shone with mirth. “She might even start asking you to wear something with bat imprints, or perhaps a nice crimson.”

Rarity’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Like, for blood?”

“I was thinking more that it would contrast your hair quite nicely, but it would make you more enticing to her, wouldn’t it? I like the way you think!”

Puffing her cheeks, the dressmaker rubbed at her forearm. “I was trying to come here to think about things too, you know,” she muttered before she could quite stop herself.

“Yes, I noticed. And you were thinking of what to wear for her when you returned, weren’t you?” came the counterpoint. As Rarity looked up and made to reply, Princess Cadence laughed. “Oh, honey, I’ve seen that look on so many lovestruck girls over the years, you’ll have to forgive me if I seem like I just read you without an effort. Hell, I can remember when I’d catch myself thinking about Shiny while I brushed my hair.”

That was right.

Princess Cadence was certainly more playful and whimsical than she’d expected, but she was still the Princess of Love. Not to mention a peer of Twilight and Lord Armor themselves.

Fidgeting in place, she looked down at her heels and kicked them off. The silly things had long since worn out their welcome anyway. “You make it seem like you just have all the answers, Princess,” Rarity said as she shot the princess a wry look.

A snort of laughter and shake of her head. Princess Cadence replied, “No, I’ve just seen that ‘but what should I wear for my darling’ look enough over a thousand plus years to know it. I’ve no idea what else was on your mind, just that something was. And, there’s a bit of a selfish note.” She tilted her head and gave that warm smile again. “Auntie Luna got to see you before with Twilight and you spent time chatting with Auntie Tia yesterday morning. We barely talked last night and that was more that I wanted to meet the woman who picked the lockbox Twilight kept her heart and stole it so and give her a little shove toward that balcony.”

“So … if you wanted to meet me last night, why did you want to come with me this morning, Princess?”

“That? It was chance that we met and I could see you were in thought even after you bumped into Chryssi and me.” She shrugged. “Not a proper plan, really. Just one still-smitten girl helping another. Also, call me Cadence or Cady since we’ll be seeing more of one another. Actually, make it Cady. Formality is just going to make things confusing or drawn out when we’re all together.”

She forced a weak laugh. “I-If you insist. Er, Cady.”

The approving hum which came in reply at least eased that reflexive anxiety a bit. Though only just.

“So,” Cadence began as she floated a white gown back onto the rack, “what had you in such state earlier? I can only assume last night went well, given the—ah—state of your attire, when we bumped into one another.”

It took a mighty effort to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks at the memories that implication stirred. “Twilight and I talked at length last night,” Rarity said softly. 

“That’s good. Did she tell you about when that little crush of hers started?”

She reached out to take hold of that black Nightmare Night dress and held it close to her chest. Just as Twilight held her as they drifted off to sleep in the early hours of the morning. “I think she made it sound more than a crush. Like I was some siren calling to her.”

Cadence shot her a sidelong smirk. “On one hand, there went my chance to tell you it was more than just a crush.”

“And on the other?”

“You can’t imagine how proud I am that she finally faced her fears, or how relieved.” Her eyes lit up at the sight of a sleeveless burgundy dress with slits going up either side of the leg and a low cut top. “Not crimson, but I think you might want to keep this one handy. Especially for vampire court events. So, conversation went well, but you seem torn on something.”

Rarity snorted before she could restrain herself. Torn wasn’t quite the word to describe how she felt about Twilight’s offer. Torn implied that she’d been pulled only in two directions and found benefit to either side.

Becoming a vampire, though, didn’t just leave her torn. She felt she’d been shredded and the pieces spread about to linger on everything she knew and held dear. Family, friends, connections, her business, how much would change and what would she need to prepare herself to lose if she said yes? Could endless time with Twilight balance the grief she’d feel laying her loved ones to rest?

Where’s the fairytale where the main character has to sit and mull that, of all things?

“She talked to me about her fears,” Rarity said softly. “Then she asked if I’d consider letting her turn me so she could have me with her forever.”

“Mmm.” The playfulness she’d grown so accustomed to seeing on Cadence’s face washed away. In its place, a knowing look. “Well, I stand corrected—I know that feeling just the same.”

“Do you?”

“Oh, yes. I wasn’t born like this, you know.” Cadence gestured to herself. “I was mortal, like you, when I first caught Auntie’s eye and became her student. I met Shiny because Luna was teaching him at the same time, so we’d always end up eating dinner together.” She paused to chuckle and shake her head. “He’d always pretend try to sneak the meat off my plate and switch it with the ‘rabbit food’.”

Something about the image her words conjured made Rarity want to croon. Just the thought of the vampire Lord purposefully dumping his vegetables on her plate and flipping a few pieces of stake onto his with all the stealth of a minotaur in a China closet, and the subtlety of a mime on the street corner.

He had seemed quite affectionate with their daughter last night. Why shouldn’t he be like any other boy when he was younger?

Twilight was surely a woman beneath that coy smirk and predatory gleam in her eyes. A powerful figure to be certain, but one with all the worries and insecurities of a mortal woman.

Thinking on it like that a moment made it a bit easier to see Twilight as she stood in the West Wing—all that fidgeting and fretting, how she kept brushing her thumb against Rarity’s knuckles.

Like she had to make sure Rarity was still there.

“He offered to turn you?” 

“On my thirteenth birthday,” Cadence confirmed. “Oh, he didn’t want to turn me that day, of course. Turned vampires age just as slow as the rest, but we were already in love and he couldn’t wait any longer to ask. I told him that I’d let him when I turned eighteen and we’d just go from there.”

Rarity raised a brow. That wasn’t quite what she’d expected at all. “But … you’re not a vampire.”

“No, I’m not.” Huffing, the Princess of Love turned away from the closet and stepped over to take a seat on Rarity’s bed. “To be honest, for about a century or so, I barely spoke with Auntie Tia over it. And it’s still a bit upsetting.”

Curiouser and curiouser. Rarity approached slowly, unable to resist the urge. “Forgive me if I sound callous, but why would that be upsetting? You have a loving husband, a beautiful daughter, and … er …”

“A wonderful lover and adorable half-sons?” Cadence offered.

“Yes, let’s go with that.”

The Princess of Love nodded once. “I did say a bit upsetting. I love my family and I’m happy with how things are, but at the time I found I couldn’t be turned, I was, to quote your generation, quite pissed off that the wonderful gesture my suitor wanted to offer had been made impossible just prior.”

Rarity made to speak, but thought better of it and closed her mouth quickly. Her uncertainty gave itself voice in a low uneasy note in the back of her throat. 

Enough to earn a snort of laughter from the princess. “You’re wondering why I’d be angry at Auntie Tia for so long, right?” At Rarity’s nod, she sighed and said, “I was discussing it with her one night, going over my reasoning and finally worked up the courage to say that I would accept it and be his forever. The phrase ‘walking on sunshine’ summed up my mood, right up until I learned that vampires couldn’t change one who was already immortal.”

“That doesn’t make sense, though,” Rarity protested. 

“No?”

“No! It doesn’t! You just said you weren’t born immortal, so you should’ve been able to accept! It’s not like someone could just—” it hit her like a horse at full sprint. Details from two separate conversations began to match up. 

Two conversations held with two separate princesses—one here, one at Canterlot Castle the morning prior.

“She just can’t stand the pain of watching them wither away. Something else she picked up from me, I suppose.”

“Princess Celestia,” Rarity whispered. “She made you immortal.”

Smiling again, Cadence rubbed at her forehead. “I’m honestly not sure which part infuriated me more, looking back,” she admitted. “Was it the fact that she’d ruined the single most romantic gesture a vampire suitor could give? One by a boy I’d been infatuated with for years? Or the fact that my beloved Auntie performed a ritual while I slept through dawn on the Summer Solstice, when her power would be at its peak, so she could wield all the magic at her disposal to sensure it was never undone?”

Silence fell heavy over the room. Rarity licked her dried lips, unable even to begin to reply. There wasn’t exactly any way she could try to sympathize, short of having Twilight’s offer unceremoniously ripped from her grasp.

Her heart clenched at the mere thought. This, after such a short time, love at first sight or not. It just couldn’t compare to what Cadence must have felt at that time.

“So,” Rarity murmured, “how did you decide you could handle it? Even though it didn’t end up happening.”

“Going from mortal to undying?” Cadence asked. “Accepting that I would have to watch friends and family pass on while I endured with Shining?” She set her cheek upon her palm and shrugged. “Rarity, I was already in love with Shining. I knew what I wanted. As much as I could, and would love, to go on about how the two of you have a red thread more vibrant than some married couples, I understand why you’d hesitate. You have far more ties than I did, really, so you probably shouldn’t put too much stock in me saying it was easy. I could be a little selfish without having to put in as much thought.”

Whether the wording or the tone, Rarity wasn’t certain which made her laugh despite her worries.

Cadence rose and moved to take hold of her hands, and offered a crooked little smile. “You’re not doing yourself or Twilight any wrong thinking on it. Honestly, I’d be worried if you just jumped and called it easy.”

“Well!” Rarity sputtered through a smattering of giggles. “At least I know I’m not insane!”

“Not at all. Like I said, I thought too and I knew Shining for years.” She squeezed Rarity’s hands tight. “What did you tell Twilight when she asked?”

“That I couldn’t promise that I’d accept her offer, but that I’d happily spend the rest of my life with her at least,” Rarity recited. “And she said that she couldn’t promise she wouldn’t keep asking if I said no.”

Cadence beamed. “Oh, you’re a woman after my own heart!” Her eyes flitted to the closet again, she snapped her fingers and summoned a cream white dress from the rack. “Hmm, not too formal, not to casual. With a coat, it could work in this weather.”

Rarity allowed herself a moment to think on something other than her vampire dilemma, something familiar and simple, yet all too important. Which dress to wear for Twilight when she awoke?

Nightmare Night black, a deep, rich burgundy, or snowy white?

She hummed, smiling slowly. What else would a vampiress’s lover wear?

With a shake of her head, she gestured toward the burgundy dress. “I’m blaming you and your lover for this, Cadence—”

“You’ll call me Cady someday.”

”—But I’m going to live dangerously and be bold enough to entice the most powerful vampire in the land,” Rarity finished, ignoring that impish smirk. “Maybe just diving headfirst into this will help me decide, no?”

Suddenly, she was caught in a princess sized hug. “Exactly right,” came Cadence’s whisper. “No one but you can know how you get to a point where you’re ready to answer.”

“… You were waiting for me to realize that, weren’t you?”

The bright, toothy grin Cadence gave before she released her embrace and beckoned Rarity away to shower said more than any words could. And all Rarity could do was roll her eyes and smile.

Maybe these meddlesome princesses were onto something.





The butterflies in her belly that whipped into a frenzy didn’t seem to care how Rarity thought she felt more confident, secure, and stunning as she left Cadence’s company and walked through the West Wing once more.

Who could blame her though? Wasn’t this the same any love stricken woman after a night like the one she’d shared with Twilight? 

None of the guards posted along the entranceways had tried to stop or question her, though one with a slight graying to his hair had given a polite cough and gestured toward the corridor on the left when she looked down the right. Had someone instructed them to ensure she didn’t wander or get lost on her way to Twilight’s chambers?

Either way, she returned his gesture with a nod of thanks and altered course. 

Her little chat with Cadence had certainly helped her organize her thoughts, even if she still wasn’t entirely sure whether she wanted to turn or not. Much like the Princess of Love had so helpfully highlighted, she did have a lot of ties anchoring her. A lot of people to think about. And each time she started thinking about those anchoring her, Rarity found her mind wandering back to that bright, happy smile spread across Twilight’s features. 

And each time that visage came to mind, she found herself grinning like an utter fool as warmth flooded her very being.

With a snap of her fingers and sparkle of sapphire glow, Rarity tugged the door open and slipped inside as quietly as possible, unsure how early Twilight might awake—for a vampire, anyway. 

Though Cadence had done a bit to delay their return, six o’clock in the evening, while the sun was still out and quite happy to burn any vampire caught in its light to ash, might be a bit out of the question. Regardless of whether or not Twilight’s chambers were perpetually darkened.

The door hinges squeaked as she tried to ease it shut. Rarity bit back a curse and shot a glare at the door, pursing her lips. So much for entering quietly.

Soft, cold hands encircled her shoulders in a loose embrace. An icy breath stung and teased her ears. “And here I wondered if you’d slipped away to make me come looking,” Twilight teased in her throaty purr. Planting a kiss right where Rarity’s neck and shoulder met, she mused, “You went and changed.”

Only her considerable self-control saved Rarity from arching her back and just melting beneath her ministrations. She could feel the vampiress’s naked form pressed against her, holding her close in the same way one might some great treasure.

“Y-Yes,” Rarity squeaked as those soft lips brushed against her skin again, and brought with them the tickle of fangs. “I thought it might seem a bit rude of me to just wander in last night’s clothes.”

“Fair point, that might have gotten some gossip going.” She could feel Twilight smile against her skin. “But you could’ve just stayed and asked me when I woke up, I could’ve found something for you until we visited your boutique together.”

Oh. Right. Squeezing her eyes shut, Rarity reached up to take hold of Twilight’s hands and leaned against her forearm. “I didn’t think of that. My mind was … elsewhere.” She turned just enough to gaze into those crimson eyes. “How long have you been awake?”

Twilight shrugged. “Only just long enough to wonder where the beautiful woman I went to bed with was before I heard the door open and caught her scent.” Her smile began to show teeth, she took a step forward, deftly turning Rarity and guiding her back toward the wall. “Just long enough to see her clothed in such a fetching color, looking all the more delectable, like she didn’t learn her lesson last night.”

An anticipating shiver ran down her spine. “H-Have I mentioned I’m a bit of a slow learner?” Rarity asked, fluttering her lashes.

Another purr. “A slow learner, you say?” Twilight took another step, her hips swaying slowly with each movement. As Rarity’s back gently touched the wall, she leaned in close, her hands cupping Rarity’s cheeks and lips brushing together with every word she whispered, “Did any of those stories you found of me tell of how I love teaching little vampires?”

“I can’t say they did.” Rarity let her arms slide up Twilight’s sides, caressing that perfect, cool skin until she wrapped them around the vampiress’s neck. “They all talked about what you did as Regent or in military.”

“Well, that’s irritating.” Stealing a quick kiss, she murmured, “You should wear that color more often.”

“Because it makes me look enticing?” 

Twilight shook her head. “You wear it perfectly, and it’s a beautiful contrast to your hair.” Her eyes glittering, she added, “That it’s the same color as blood is only a bonus to what already makes you look so delectable, silly girl.”

Oh.

Oh, well then! 

There was just no hiding or disguising squirming in her current state. And, frankly, Rarity was just fine with that. She’d be just fine if she could feel this forever.

Then again, couldn’t she? All it’d take was just a little selfishness. Just this once.

Just like Cadence.

She buried her face in Twilight’s shoulder and took a deep breath to steel herself. Yes. “Are you hungry?” 

Twilight drew back, blinking. “Famished,” she replied. “Why?”

For whatever reason, that look of innocent confusion upon her face just made Rarity giggle. After her offer, she didn’t think to draw the connection.

Rather than answer aloud, Rarity simply took a deep breath and brushed a stray lock of hair off her neck and shoulder, then tilted her head to bare the left side of her neck.

Slitted pupils widened as though to fill the vampiress’s eyes. Those gleaming fangs lengthened, her lips twitched and began to tug into a hopeful smile. “You know what happens if I—”

“Yes.”

“And you—really?”

I’m a silly girl? Rarity stood on tiptoe to plant a lingering kiss upon her lover and nuzzled her softly. “Eternity with you, I can be selfish just this once,” she whispered. “And this is the most romantic gift I could have imagined, even if it might ruin this dress.”

Biting her lip, Twilight leaned in and kissed Rarity soundly. Her cold fingers running through those regal purple locks as she crooned into the kiss. “Be still, my unbeating heart,” she whispered when they parted. “For you, a thousand of those dresses and more, my love. Tilt, please.”

Rarity would swear later she didn’t shiver or prance on tiptoe. She would spin some tale about how she did so with a kiss on the lip and dignified smile as she awaited the bite.

They both knew the truth, though.

Both knew how she first flinched as Twilight drew close, then let a startled yelp turn into a happy hum as Twilight kissed just beneath her jawline, and began to trail a slow line down her neck.

She whined in protest and bounced on tiptoe, trying to press against her fangs. “Twi-light! Please!”

“Mmm, well,” Twilight purred, her fangs tickling against Rarity’s neck. “Since you beg so sweetly.”

Pain bit into the side of her neck, lethal fangs pierced deep, into her jugular. She felt Twilight press her lips against the skin, sucking hard and running her tongue along the skin to lap up her precious lifeblood. Fire spread through her veins and into her heart, the vampiress’s venom working its wicked games to put her on pins and needles and slowly bring her across the threshold between night and day. 

Her eyes fluttering shut, Rarity tilted her head back and let out a soft moan as her canines began to ache and lengthen.

The first night of eternity together began with blissful rebirth.