If Twilight Sparkle had to describe her friendship with Rarity in a single word, she would have called it sharp.

She sat across from the mare in question in the Carousel Boutique’s living room. Between them rested Rarity’s opal-and-jade chess board, set with ranks of miniature earth pony pawns, pegasus knights, unicorn bishops and alicorn queens. Twilight had drawn black for this round, and pondered the position of one of Rarity’s knights near the middle of the board. It had tormented her for the past three turns, but she was finally closing the last of its freedoms, and soon it would either retreat or be the first victim of a bloodbath.

“Tick-tock,” Rarity said with practiced indifference, as though she were remarking on the weather. “But don’t rush on my account.”

“Chess is for the patient,” Twilight said. She lifted a pawn in her magic and nudged it forward to threaten the troublesome knight.

Twilight was the first to admit that she possessed certain neuroses. She was a perfectionist; she obsessed over things. Minor problems could explode into world-ending catastrophes in her mind. Over the years she had learned to control these foibles, to the point that they were nothing more than the characteristics that ponies associated her with. But they still often shaped her thoughts.

For instance, though she would never tell anypony, Twilight kept a rank-ordered mental list of her friends. There was no design in this effort, no calculated ploy to exploit her friendships. She just couldn’t help making lists of everything in her life, including the ponies closest to her.

Twilight’s best friend, her place atop Twilight’s list certified with a gold star and several exclamation points, was Rarity. More than any of their circle, Rarity was the closest to being Twilight’s mental equal. In Rarity, Twilight had a pony she could converse with without having to redact her language or use short sentences. Rarity could challenge her.

And Rarity was the only pony who would play chess with her.

Rarity frowned down at the board. Her horn glowed, illuminating the knight, but then faded as she selected her bishop instead, moving it to threaten one of Twilight’s pawns.

“We’re not all immortal, you know,” she said. “Bit unfair, playing chess with an alicorn.”

Ah, bringing up the immortality – she was nervous. Twilight’s lips curled in a quickly hidden smile.

“You’ve still got plenty of time left, Rarity,” she said. “Decades, at least.”

The entire center of the board now rested on the fate of Rarity’s knight. If it stayed, it was doomed. If it fled, she would cede control of the center to Twilight, and then it would simply be a matter of time before some critical piece was lost, and with it the game. Twilight nudged her queen forward a single space, bringing it in position to attack both the knight and a pawn.

Rarity frowned. Her muzzle scrunched up, and she took a sip from her tea. It was the jasmine blend that Twilight had gotten for her birthday a few months back, and filled the room with a wonderful scent.

“So.” Rarity took another sip. “I’ve been sleeping with Spike lately.”

There was a moment’s pause while Twilight processed that statement.

“What?!” Twilight shot to her hooves. Her knee struck the edge of the table, knocking the board off-kilter and scattering half its pieces onto the floor. “What do you mean you’ve been—”

Rarity cut her off with an upraised hoof. She took a sip of her tea, swirled it on her tongue, and swallowed. “I’m sorry, did I say ‘sleeping?’ I meant speaking. I’ve been speaking with him lately.”

Twilight frowned. “Speaking.”

“Mhm. We speak a lot. I love speaking with him.”

Every conversation with Rarity was a game of wits, each probing the other for weaknesses. Perhaps it was their heritage as unicorns, or perhaps some lingering effect of her Canterlot upbringing, but whenever they found themselves alone, Twilight imagined a giant mental scoreboard looming over them, ticking off points with each exchange.

“Oh, and look at this!” Rarity’s eyes widened as she took in the board. “The board is all askew! It seems we’ll never know how this game would have ended. Alas.”

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. She glanced between the scattered pieces and the innocent, indifferent unicorn, who for her part finished off the last of her tea, set the cup down, and looked up at Twilight with a coy smile.

“Alas indeed.” Twilight knew she could reassemble most of the board from memory, and was tempted to do it just to deny Rarity this victory, but one of their little unspoken rules was not to quibble over points. To do so was petty.

In her mind, she flipped over the point column of the giant mental scoreboard. Rarity was now in the lead for the day. She sat and reset the chess board while Rarity went to get some more tea.

Twilight loved that Rarity always kept her on the tips of her hooves. She loved that she couldn’t be lazy around Rarity, and that every assertion she made was open to challenge. She loved that Rarity fought back on equal footing. She loved the way Rarity smiled when she scored a point, or the tight purse of her lips when she acknowledged a hit from Twilight.

Also, the sex was pretty good.

Can’t forget that.

* * *

Twilight Sparkle and Rarity were not lovers in the traditional sense.

They didn’t, for instance, love each other, at least not romantically. Their friendship was so deep that outsiders might mistake it for love, but they had no illusions about it. They never viewed each other as mates.

There were still a few hours of daylight remaining after a third and final game of chess (which Twilight won). Rarity had closed the Boutique for the day, a luxury she did not so much indulge in as was forced to endure by her friends who felt she had a tendency to overwork, and Twilight was a princess so her business hours were up to her. They were both free for the afternoon.

At this point, lovers might have done something silly and sappy like lay on the couch together, each reading a book while leaning into the other and occasionally stealing kisses. Friends, however, needed some purpose to their meeting, so they went to the spa.

When Twilight went to the spa by herself she tended to select the same choices from the menu – a soak in the hot baths, a massage, and lately preening and oiling of her wings, which she still had trouble doing herself. She could go to the spa for a thousand years (a distinct possibility, when she thought about it) and never stray from those options.

Rarity was more eclectic, or, if there was some pattern there, it was too subtle for Twilight to discern. She might get her horn filed or her hooves polished or her dock waxed or any number of procedures Twilight Sparkle would rather observe than partake in. But it was also true that Rarity was the most beautiful pony in Ponyville, so she must know a thing or two about the art of self-care.

Because Twilight was with her, Rarity went for the simple option of a massage. Because Twilight was a princess, they didn’t have to wait in the lobby. Twilight didn’t ask for this special treatment – openings mysteriously appeared whenever she showed up, and she figured it would be ungrateful to complain.

They laid a few feet apart on separate mats in a private room at the spa. It was hot, nearly body temperature, and sweat glistened their coats and ran down their bodies. Twilight’s mane was plastered to her face in dark strings, and the gas lamps on the walls illuminated halos of mist that beaded on every solid surface. A dish of cool water by her muzzle was the only respite from the cloying, tropical heat.

Dripping with sweat and condensation, Rarity somehow looked even more beautiful than normal. Her soft body was slick, reflections sharp, showing off every svelte curve and flowing line. Even her tangled mane seemed more alluring. In her presence Twilight felt hopelessly dull; a crow beside a swan.

The spa twins didn’t make her feel any better. Their bodies were corded with muscle, their manes somehow still perfect despite the heat and damp. One each sat upon Rarity and Twilight’s backs, grinding their hooves into their victims, the smiles never leaving their faces.

Twilight could imagine a stallion, trapped in this room with the four of them. Where would his eyes go first? To Rarity, of course, then the twins, and then, if he still cared to look further, he might glance in Twilight’s direction, realize what a poor bounty she was, and turn right back to Rarity.

She sighed quietly, just as Aloe pressed her hooves into her back, right between her shoulder blades. The resulting whoosh of breath perked every ear in the room.

Rarity turned her head onto its side to look at Twilight. “Everything alright, darling? It’s not too hard, is it?”

“No.” Twilight smiled back at Aloe in apology. “It’s fine. Just thinking.”

“Ah. About what?”

“You know. Stuff.”

“Ah.”

Twilight and Rarity were not lovers for another, more germane reason – Rarity already had a lover, and she didn’t need two. And Thunderlane had some assets that Twilight Sparkle, despite being a princess and the third most-powerful pony in Equestria, couldn’t match.

Twilight wasn’t bitter about that state of affairs. The mere fact that she and Rarity shared a bed from time to time, in spite of Twilight’s lack of anything of value to bring between the sheets, was enough for her. It showed that Rarity really did care about her, and loved spending time with her, and valued her enough to share her body. Twilight was content to be a friend who sometimes got lucky.

It was a bit unfair, though, the more she thought about it. When a mare made love to another mare, the primary tools at her disposal were her hooves and her tongue, and to be honest Twilight wasn’t very good with either of those. A stallion like Thunderlane, however, had his hooves, his tongue, and a cock. From a transactional perspective, a stallion had more to offer a mare than another mare did. How was she supposed to compete with—

“You look very serious all of a sudden. Bit for your thoughts?” Rarity asked.

“Er.” Twilight coughed. “Economics.”

“Ah.” Rarity closed her eyes the way she did when she didn’t want anypony to see her rolling them. “Well, as long as you’re relaxing.”

Aloe forced the breath from Twilight’s lungs with a rough twist of her hooves. “Of course,” she wheezed.

Twilight supposed she could find a stallion herself. She was quite a catch, after all – a princess and a librarian! She was the only pony in Equestria with both those attributes. That had to be worth something.

But that would require putting herself on the market, to continue the economics metaphor. She would have to go out, find a stallion, and court him. And, as she knew from her friends and the trashy magazines she read when nopony was watching in the checkout counter at the Ponyville grocery, courtship came with rejection. Stallions would inevitably judge her and discard her.

For not the first time, Twilight wished some higher power – Celestia, perhaps, though Cadence could plausibly work – would simply assign ponies their mates. No dating, no courtship, no rejection. Just a letter in the mail with a time and date for a nice, quiet dinner for two.

It wouldn’t be perfect, of course. There were more mares than stallions by a small but statistically significant degree, which meant some mares would either have to go without, or some stallions would have to be shared. There was plenty of precedent for that already, of course, but it might come across as unfair.

Of course, not every mare might want a stallion. She could almost see herself in this category, and for a few weeks after her first dalliance with Rarity she had wondered if their little fling might portend some more permanent alignment.

Between the cloying heat, the pressure of the body atop her, and the memories churning through her mind, it wasn’t long before Twilight’s thoughts turned to that first night with Rarity. The coy looks they had shared, the butterflies in her belly as Twilight came to the realization that yes this was happening, this liaison she’d long flirted with was finally going to end with them atop the sheets on Rarity’s bed, her body spread out shamelessly beneath her friend, her heart hammering as Rarity’s muzzle slowly worked its way down her belly toward—

“Hello, Twilight? Are you still with us?” Rarity’s voice suddenly broke her reverie. She blinked to see Rarity and the two spa ponies staring at her. “You’ve been quiet for quite some time. Recalling something, perhaps?”

“Er, uh.” Twilight’s body, already flushed with heat, burned even brighter with embarrassment. “Just more, uh, economics. And math.”

“Mhm.” A small, predatory smile broke out on her perfect white muzzle. “And some biology, maybe?”

Twilight swallowed. She knew that smile and what it promised.

They were not lovers in the traditional sense.

But that didn’t matter when they were in bed.

* * *

Later, hours later, Twilight Sparkle curled up with Rarity between the sheets in the Boutique. It was a nicer bed than Twilight had in her castle, though she supposed if she asked around she could find a bed like it for herself. The cotton sheets were downy and soft, always smelled like a summer day, and the mattress was fluffy as a cloud.

And the company was nice, too.

Rarity was either half-awake or half-asleep. She hummed something beneath her breath, an aimless tune that roused foggy memories from somewhere in Twilight’s past. She paused for a moment, then snuggled closer, teasing the ruff of fur on Twilight’s chest with her muzzle.

The sweat on Twilight’s coat tingled as it dried. A deep exhaustion weighed down her belly and chest, complemented by the warm orgasmic glow still radiating from her pelvis. Her nipples stung, victims of Rarity’s aggressive incisors, but after months of sessions like this the pain no longer registered as such. Teats were meant to be bitten, either by foals or by lovers; this slight pain was their natural state and should be celebrated. They would be fine in the morning, she knew.

The ended up tangled together like this once a week. Twilight wouldn’t have minded some more frequent interval, but Rarity’s actual lover, Thunderlane, took up most of the rest of Rarity’s nights.

Twilight’s eyes were heavy, and she felt the inexorable tug of sleep drawing her down into the mattress. She closed her eyes, settled her head onto a pillow ripe with the scent of Rarity and sweat and sex, and prepared herself for sleep.

Before she fell away entirely, though, Rarity shifted in her hooves. A nibble on Twilight’s chin opened her eyes, and she looked down to see Rarity’s face on the pillow, staring at her from just a few inches away.

“Muh?”

“Very eloquent, darling.” Rarity gave her lips a little kiss to soften her words. “Want to talk?”

Hm, did she? She was sleepy, but they had all night. “Sure.”

“You seemed a little distracted today, is all. Is something bothering you?”

Twilight rolled onto her back. The ceiling was easier to look at – dark and non-judgemental. “It’s nothing worth worrying about. Little things. Stupid things. Silly insecurities.”

“Mm.” Rarity pressed her muzzle against the side of Twilight’s neck, giving her a little kiss beneath her jaw. “And what does Princess Twilight Sparkle have to feel insecure about?”

“You’ll laugh.”

“I will not.”

“You will, though.”

“Twilight, listen to me.” Rarity pulled Twilight closer into a hug. “I promise I will not laugh at you.”

“Okay, fine.” Twilight took a long breath, held it, and slowly exhaled. “I don’t have a penis.”

Rarity laughed.

To be fair, she tried not to. For a moment she was silent as she digested Twilight’s statement and, presumably, wondered if she’d heard it correctly. That was followed by a sudden stiffening of her limbs and a choked squeak. Her whole body trembled, and then, just as Twilight had predicted, she laughed. It was light and musical and burned like acid in Twilight’s chest.

Twilight groaned and tried to roll away. She wasn’t angry – she knew Rarity was going to laugh, after all, she even said so twice – but it still stung.

Eventually the chuckles died, and Rarity pressed up tight against her back. Her forelegs snaked around Twilight’s body, clasping around her chest, and her muzzle pressed up against Twilight’s ear.

“I’m sorry, darling,” she said. “It’s just… well, that wasn’t what I was bracing to hear. You surprised me.”

“Hmph.”

“Alright, seriously. Leaving aside for a moment the fact I am well aware Princess Twilight Sparkle does not have a penis…” She emphasized this point by pressing the front of her thigh up beneath Twilight’s tail. “Can you tell me why that bothers you? Do you wish you did?”

“Oh, ugh, no.” Twilight squirmed at the thought. Her, with that thing – or, well, three things if you counted the testicles – hanging between her legs? No thank you. “No. It’s just… I can’t do the same stuff with you that Thunderlane does.”

“Mm, well, you’re not supposed to be competing with Thunderlane, darling.”

“I know I’m not, but since when does that matter?” She rolled over to face Rarity. “I told you, it’s silly and pointless and there’s nothing that can be done about it except roll your eyes and tell me to get over it, which is what you should be doing.”

Rarity did roll her eyes. “Twilight, I hope you know me well enough not to expect that. The love I have for you is the same love I have for all our friends, albeit deeper and certainly more physical. The love I have for Thunderlane is, ah…”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Sorry, it’s just… I think it’s a bit early to know what kind of love I feel for him. But if it works out, I hope it’s the kind of love my parents feel for each other, or yours must feel. The love that one day leads to shared lives and foals.”

That sounded lovely, though Twilight had trouble imagining Rarity as a mare willing to settle down and have foals anytime soon. Her business was too important.

“How different is it?” she asked. “Being with a stallion, that is.”

Rarity chuckled. “It depends on the stallion, darling. But to generalize they are anxious, insistent, undisciplined as foals, a tad silly, and absolutely a treasure once you get past their bluster.”

“Uh.” Maybe sticking with mares wasn’t such a bad idea. “So, um, generally worth the trouble?”

“I think so.” Rarity rolled onto her back and pressed her shoulder up against Twilight’s. “You have to remember, darling, stallions are very excitable, but once you get them into bed they’re easily spooked. The silly beasts set up so many expectations for themselves and all of a sudden they’re lying on a mare expected to make her happy or feel like a failure.”

“You make it sound, uh, whatever the opposite of romantic is.”

“Realistic. Sex is about two ponies trying to get past their insecurities. But once they do that, it can be beautiful, whether it’s with a stallion or a mare.”

“Are you insecure?”

“Not when I’m with Thunderlane, or with you.” Rarity turned her head to nuzzle Twilight’s cheek. “They say familiarity breeds contempt, but I’ve never found that to be true. I think it breeds affection.”

Aw. Twilight smiled in the dark. “Thank you, Rarity.”

“Of course. You know you can always talk to me about these things.”

“Mmm.” That was a good note to end the night on. Twilight rolled onto her side and scooched back against Rarity’s belly and welcoming embrace. “Someday I’ll see what stallions are like myself.”

“It just takes a little courage, darling. Just find one you like and ask them. If you wait for them to ask you’ll be waiting until doomsday. Literally, in your case.”

She could see that. Waiting for a thousand years for somepony to notice her, to see the mare beneath the shell. Not the princess or the academic or the Element of Harmony, but the fragile pony who wanted nothing more than to be embraced. She could see herself waiting for epochs, never learning to reach out herself, to bare her heart to the world. No, not Twilight Sparkle – she would veil her heart, keep it concealed in a dark strong lockbox in her chest, never letting on that the merest touch, the gentlest outreach, would be enough to drag it into the light. She could see herself standing alone on Equestria’s last day, staring up at the swollen sun on an arid plain blasted free of all other life.

“Twilight?” Rarity’s voice broke through the images. “Are you alright? You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “Just scared.”

“Scared? You?” The incredulity in Rarity’s voice shone like a star. “Twilight, you are the bravest pony I know. What about love that could possibly frighten you?”

“Never finding it.” The words spilled out in an unbroken stream. “Or finding it and being terrible at it. I mean, look at me, Rarity. I’m a princess, I have a wonderful family, perfect friends, and everypony tells me how sweet I am. But my only lover is the best friend who takes pity on me.”

Rarity squeezed her tight. “Pity! Twilight, I don’t know where you got such a silly idea, but you should know I would never take a lover out of pity. I do this because I care about you and I enjoy it, and I hope you do as well.” A quiet sigh. “You’ve been thinking about this a while, haven’t you? And I never knew? Perhaps I have not been such a good friend.”

“Don’t say that, Rarity.”

“Hush, I can deprecate myself if I want. Twilight, love – and sex, for that matter – is like anything else in life. It doesn’t come easy at first. Do you remember the first time we were together?”

Twilight blushed. It was a memory composed of equal parts lust, joy and humiliation. “Uh, yes.”

“Would you believe I was worse, my first night with a stallion?”

Twilight couldn’t help the snort of laughter. “What? No.”

“I was, Twilight. I didn’t think he’d ever want to see me again, but we kept seeing each other for months.”

“And? What happened?”

Rarity shrugged. “He went to school in Manehattan. We sent each other letters for a while, but… well, that sort of thing rarely lasts. He found another mare, and we both moved on.”

“You sound very sanguine about it.”

“Why shouldn’t I be? That’s how life goes, and I certainly found other lovers.” She followed this with a light nip on Twilight’s shoulder.

Twilight supposed she ought to be thankful to this mysterious stallion – if he hadn’t left Rarity, Twilight would have been alone on this night, and every other night for that matter. Funny, that her entire sex life hinged on such a tiny turn of fate.

“Thank you, Rarity,” she whispered. “For all of this.”

“Oh, don’t thank me, darling.” Rarity sighed quietly. “I wish you’d said something sooner. I could have…”

Twilight waited, but nothing followed. She rolled over to see Rarity staring at the pillow with a tiny frown on her face.

“Rarity? Are you alright?”

“Hm?” Rarity blinked, then met Twilight’s eyes once more. “Sorry, just had a thought… a silly thought, but perhaps a useful one, if you can trust me.”

“You know I do.”

“Thank you. I think, Twilight, you just need a little push. A little help, to get some confidence.”

“A push?” Twilight snorted. “Are you going to be my dating coach, Rarity?”

“I happily would, and maybe I will. But no, this… hm. It’s something that might shock you”

“Huh?” Twilight knew Rarity had a bit of a risque streak, one she didn’t let on to casual acquaintances, but which quickly became clear to her close friends. A streak that could lead to some dangerous places. “Go on.”

“What if I could prove to you that stallions are just as nervous and anxious about you, as you are about them?”

“Like, with a book? I’ve read books already, Rarity.”

“Of course you have.” Twilight could practically hear Rarity’s eyes rolling. “I was thinking something more hooves-on.”

A feeling like butterflies tickled the inside of Twilight’s belly. “Hooves-on?”

“Mhm.” Rarity snuggled closer. “You know, Thunderlane has been a very good boy lately…”