Sapphire eyes swept over her kitchen, lingering over the hanging pots and pans and cooking utensils waiting in their neat, orderly rows like soldiers eager to offer their services.

Rarity made another note to thank the Cakes for being so generous to let Pinkie take the day off to aid in her cause. Perhaps she could arrange for a nice evening out sometime soon, after the honeymoon. Until then, business. Before the wedding, there was one tradition the mares in her family adhered to most rigidly—the preparation of sweet cakes for all the guests at the reception. More importantly, for herself and her bride or groom to be.

Her mind wandered to the mare she was due to marry in little less than a day. Words could hardly describe her. Caring, thoughtful, brilliant, gifted—oh, to see her experiment with magic was like watching a master painter at work!—and beautiful.

Dear Celestia, she was. With such little effort, it was almost unfair how her gorgeous mulberry coat shone with every caress of the sun’s light, or how her soulful purple eyes sparkled.

Her bride to be deserved perfection, and Rarity would see to it her efforts yielded just that. She turned to face her chosen helpers, the lone allowance afforded her. Only family and close friends could offer help.

Rarity had chosen Pinkie Pie, Applejack, her mother, Cookie Crumble, and Sweetie Belle. Each stood before her with their head high and ears perked up, ready to hear her orders. Well, Sweetie had to climb up onto a stool, but she was standing before her nonetheless.

With a small smile, she nodded to the quartet. “Thank you all for agreeing to help me today,” she said. “The Cakes have been generous enough to offer their kitchen for preparation for the bulk of the refreshments—”

“Aaaaaaand the big wedding cake!” Pinkie chimed in. She leaned against Applejack and buffed a hoof on her chest, a lazy, confident grin spread across her face. “I don’t want to brag, but I think those big shot bakers who wanted to do a Royal Wedding are gonna be pretty jealous of what we whipped up!”

Rarity grimaced, shooting Applejack a pleading look. The farm mare let out a snort of laughter as she jostled her shoulder just enough to push Pinkie off, and fixed her with a patient smile and raised brow.

Pinkie’s ears drooped. “Oopsie-daisy!” she squeaked, hiding a sheepish smile behind her hooves. “My bad, Rarity! Floor’s yours!”

“Thank you.” Clearing her throat, she continued, “As I was saying, the main dessert will be sweet cakes, which, in my family’s tradition, must be prepared by the bride and those closest to her. Were it not for their duties keeping Twilight occupied, Fluttershy and Rainbow would be here with us.”

Applejack wrinkled her snout. “Dash, I get. But why Fluttershy? Ain’t like she’s gonna wrestle Twi to the ground, ‘specially if she teleports.”

“I’ve asked Starlight to linger around the castle to help even the odds on that front.”

“Ah. ‘Kay then.” Idly brushing her Steston back, she said, “So, sweet cakes.”

Rarity nodded once. “Indeed. It’s traditional for us to decorate them with the colors of each pony being wed. My goal is to adhere to that, though with a more … artistic flare.” Her mother’s sudden snort of laughter brought a rosy hue to her snowy white cheeks. “S-So! Duties! Applejack, mother, if you wouldn’t mind preparing the batter?”

Cookie Crumble hummed an affirmative. “Of course, poppet,” she replied. Beckoning for to follow, she trotted over to the counter.  “Come along, dear. The recipe will be in Rarity’s cookbook, no doubt.”

Grinning, Applejack followed with a marry swish of her blonde tail. “Mrs. Crumble, you’re speaking my language.”

Before Rarity could speak again, Pinkie zipped forward so they stood nose to nose, bouncing in place. “Oooh! Ooh! What about me?”

“You’re with me, Pinkie Pie,” Rarity replied with a warm smile. “I’d like you to help me prepare the icing, since you’ve got the most experience decorating cakes. Though I should warn you, I’ll be a little picky on the colors.”

Pinkie waved her off. “Pshaw! That’s fine! It’s for your Super Special Wedding Sweet Cakes, you’re allowed to be picky!” Thinking on it a moment, she frowned. “Y’know, the fact that they’re wedding sweet cakes ruins my alliterative name scheme. I’ll have to rethink that.”

“Well, when you think of something, let me know, darling.”

Pinkie bounced over to retrieve the bowls, spoons, and ingredients, giggling and babbling in her usual way as she rummaged through the cabinets, debating “what Rarity and Twilight cakes would taste like.”

Sometimes I worry about that mare. Shaking her head, Rarity turned to the last member of their little team, who gazed up at her with eagerness shining in those jade eyes—along with the prospect for burned everything. Lovable though Sweetie Belle was, her talent for ruining something as simple as cereal could not go understated.

To that end, Rarity had concocted the perfect way to include her without actually doing so. And she wouldn’t even have to send Sweetie off to find something inconsequential this time.

With a deft flick of magic, she retrieved a small chef’s hat she’d purchased from Barnyard Bargains just the other day, and gently set it on Sweetie’s head. “Sweetie Belle, you’ll be our head chef today.”

Sweetie’s eyes lit up. “Yay—wait.” She blinked twice. “What’s a head chef do?”

“Oversight, dear,” Rarity replied, amusement tinging her voice. “You’re in charge of keeping an eye on proceedings and making sure everypony’s doing their part.”

Sweetie squinted at her. “This isn’t another trick to keep me from actually cooking, is it?”

“Of course not,” Rarity replied without missing a beat. “Somepony has to keep an eye on mother or she’s liable to gossip and pull out foal pictures.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cookie Crumble’s ears twitch as she slowly turned to level her daughter with a dangerous smirk. A cool shiver ran to the very tip of her curled tail. Forcing a smile, she returned her gaze to Sweetie Belle and said, “As I was saying, your job is very important. Understand?”

A contemplative look settled upon Sweetie’s face for a moment, her muzzle scrunched adorably. Then she nodded. “Okay!” she said, fixing Rarity with a stern glare that did little to hide the excitement in her eyes. “Everypony get to work, then! No standing around!”

Oh dear, I’ve created a monster. Rarity thought as she trotted over to a giggling Pinkie’s side, struggling not to laugh herself. She couldn’t keep a hint of a smile off her face as she gathered powdered sugar, unsalted butter, vanilla extract, and milk alongside a large mixing bowl and assorted measuring cups. Silly though it was to hear Sweetie barking orders, the filly had a point.

There was work to be done.

“How’s this look, Rarity?” Pinkie asked, her eyes wide and shining to the brim with hope. She was confident that she got it right this time. “I remember what you said and, yeah, you’re right, her coat is sorta light purply but not violet like the last time. So I added a little more purple coloring and stirred really, really well so it all spread.”

Rarity took a break from stirring her latest batch of white cream to check over Pinkie’s efforts. She glanced into the bowl, wrinkling her snout and biting her lip. Close, but not quite. Just a touch too dark once again.

And why was it lumpy? How did it even get like that?

She shook her head. “Too dark, I’m afraid. Twilight’s coat isn’t quite that purple, dear.”

Pink ears drooped. “Again?” Pinkie whined. She looked down at her icing and frowned. “But I was sure this time!”

“You’ve almost got it, but her coat is more …” Rarity trailed off, rolling a hoof through the air. Her ears twitched. “Mulberry. Her coat is a sort of dusty purple, like mulberry. Not deep purple and … lumpy?”

“Oh.” Humming in thought, Pinkie squinted at the bowl. “I thought this looked awful close … .” Her ears perked up. “I could use actual mulberries for color! And I’d bet they’d make it taste super yummy!”

“That might just work, and I’d wager it would. Lovely idea.”

“Thanks, you got me thinking about it with the color comment! I suppose you’d know colors best, after all.” She looked up and waggled her brows, a playful grin spread across her face. “Especially when it comes to Twi—eep!” She ducked as a tendril of bubbling sapphire magic scooped a glob of white cream icing and fling it at her face. It sailed overhead, straight toward the open doorway into the sitting room.

A new voice, sweet and smooth, floated through the air and tickled Rarity’s ears in ways only one could manage. But at this moment, it was the last she wanted to hear.

“What’s this I’m hearing about my coat?” Twilight called. A cadence of hoofsteps thumped against the carpeted floor. “And for that matter, Rarity, I’ve got a carrot to pick with you about all this—gah!”

The icing splat across her face, covering her eyes just as she entered the kitchen. Her wings flared, feathers bristling. Twilight brought a hoof up to wipe her face clean. “What in Equestria? What was that for?”

“Twilight!” Rarity shrieked, her voice shrill. She dashed over, snatching a cloth off the rack with a flick of her magic and hurried over to her fiancée’s side, draping it over the blinded princess’s face. “You’re not supposed to be here!” she hissed. “You’re supposed to be at the spa with the girls!”

Sputtering, Twilight lit her horn to take the cloth and begin wiping more thoroughly. “I was! And I mentioned wanting to see you, but they keep dragging me all over town, insisting that you say I—wait a minute!” Though blinded, Rarity couldn’t help but squirm as she furrowed her brows and scrunched her muzzle. Slowly, she asked, “What do you mean I’m not supposed to be here?”

Cookie Crumble was at Rarity’s side before she could explain. Her lips formed a thin line, her eyes were wide with fight. “It’s bad luck in our family for the spouse to be to see us baking before the reception!” Her tail flicked worriedly. “Twilight, keep your eyes closed and back out right now. You cannot see this.”

“That’s—that’s not how it—that’s only a thing for dresses!”

“In our family, it’s both! Out!” Rearing up, she placed her hooves on Twilight’s chest and shoved her roughly, sending the startled, bewildered princess stumbling back into the sitting room.

“But—wait a—hang on just a minute! You can’t just—Rarity! Stop her!”

Though Twilight couldn’t see, Rarity shook her head, sending her majestic curls bobbing to and fro, joining her mother’s efforts. “Absolutely not! Where even are the girls? I’m going to have words with them for this!”

Almost on cue, Rainbow Dash burst through the door, her cerise eyes locked on Twilight the instant she entered the boutique. With a triumphant cry, she flew over and looped her hooves under Twilight’s barrel. “Sorry, Rarity! Twi said something about hitting the bathroom to get Flutters to give her a sec, then poked a hole through Starlight’s spell while we weren’t watching,” she explained, then she growled at Twilight. “And you! We told you Rarity specifically said to wait until she came home tonight!”

“Take her and go,” Cookie Crumble ordered. “Debate later.”

“Got it! Off we go!” With a few quick pumps of her wings, she lifted the protesting princess off the ground and dragged her bodily toward the door, wrestling with her clumsy efforts to divert their path.

As soon as they were out the door, Cookie Crumble closed and locked it tight. She let out a deep sigh, fixing Rarity with a sidelong look. A tired smile settled upon her face. “Perhaps we should’ve asked her brother to come over and shield your home.”

Rarity shook her head. “Shining Armor has his hooves full with Flurry Heart, what with Princess Cadence preparing to officiate.”

“Ah, of course.” Cookie Crumble shook her head, then motioned Rarity to follow her. “Well, come along. We’ve got the batter ready to pour into the trays, and I could use another horn.” The right corner of her mouth twitched. “Your wedding might not be a full blown royal affair, but it’s considerably bigger than my own.”

Her cheeks colored a dusty pink. Rarity turned with an awkward little swish of her tail, and made to trot back to her self-designated station.

She came face to face with a beaming Pinkie Pie. “I got it!” the baker squealed, bright blue eyes sparkling like diamonds. She held up her mixing bowl, proudly displaying a batch of smooth, creamy mulberry icing. “As soon as Twilight walked in, I got something to compare! Perfect timing for her!”

Rarity shared a quick look with her mother, who shrugged. That was certainly one way to put a happy face on things. Then again, that was most certainly Pinkie Pie’s way.

“Thank you, Pinkie, dear. Now, let’s get the rest finished up so we’re ready to ice them.”

After their brief scare, things went relatively smoothly for the group. Rarity smiled and mixed another batch of icing  while listening to Pinkie’s excited chattering about this and that, mostly regarding all the fun she’d planned for two of her “most stupenderiffically best friends ever.”

There was little doubt in Rarity’s mind that each of their little circle of friends had such festivities awaiting them when it came time for their wedding bells to ring. And rightfully so.

They made three batches of each to start off, since every guest was to get one of each sweet cake. Then they moved to assist Applejack and Cookie Crumble with the actual baking. Sweetie, meanwhile, had fallen prey to boredom and procured a spare bit of dough to mould into seemingly random shapes.

A quip about how a good chef would never be so careless or easily distracted was on the tip of her tongue, but Rarity bit it back. Sweetie might be shirking her “duties,” but she wasn’t setting anything on fire. And, more importantly, she was having fun.

A loud chime of bells made her ears perk up, the timer had run out. Rarity stood nearby as her mother tugged the door open with a gentle tug of her magic, watching closely as Applejack reared up on hind hooves and put on a pair of thick oven socks, then reached for the first tray of sweet cakes. Experienced baker or not, Rarity wasn’t going to allow the slightest bout of clumsiness get a friend burned in her kitchen. Much less one helping her prepare for her wedding day.

But Applejack didn’t falter. She pulled the tray out and placed it on the table, then turned and repeated the motion with such deft ease and grace, Rarity almost thought it a dance move. Or perhaps ballet, though the farm mare would deny it to the end of time.

Cookie Crumble lit her horn to help slide the trays along the counter. “Set the last one on top, dear,” she said.

“Got it,” Applejack replied as she pulled the third tray out and set it across the first two, then repeated with the next three to make a total of six. She paused to wipe a hoof across her brow. “Hoo-ey! Never thought it’d get so hot in your kitchen, Rares. I’m sweatin’ like a hog in midsummer!”

Pinkie Pie let out a burst of laughter. “But it is midsummer, silly!” Thinking on it a moment, she amended, “Well, it’s early summer, but that’s close enough and it is really, really hot out lately … hey! Do you think a water slide would—”

Applejack jammed a hoof full of batter into her mouth. “No,” she deadpanned, before fixing a smile upon her face. “So, how’s the icing lookin’, Rares?”

“Marvelous, of course. And I’ve taken the liberty of setting out decorations as well.” Rarity turned and made a sweeping gesture toward the table where she’d set out shakers and bowls. “Mother, if you don’t mind carrying the trays?”

Chuckling, Cookie Crumble nodded and levitated the cooling trays, guiding them over to the table and setting them down one on top of the other. Then she levitated another set of trays and set them alongside the others. “What have you decided on?” she mused as she took a seat. She glanced over the shakers and bowls with a raised brow. “Ah, I do think I see it already.”

“Do you, mother?”

“I could guess, but I know you love your big reveals and I’d hate to steal your thunder.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Rarity caught sight of Applejack jamming another hoof full of batter into Pinkie’s mouth before she could think to make a quip. A small mercy in the grand scheme of things.

She tossed her royal purple mane and gave a self-satisfied smile as she approached the table, nodding thanks to her mother. Rarity turned to address her friends. “As mentioned before, my family’s tradition is to decorate sweet cakes with the colors of the ponies being wed. Over the years, we’ve added our own little twists to the tradition. This is mine.” With another sweeping gesture, she directed their attention toward her chosen decorations: four shakers of magenta and baby blue sparkle dust sprinkles each, and two bowls bearing customized cake decorations. One full of magenta starbursts, the other a blue diamond.

Pinkie Pie’s eyes went wide. She swallowed the lump of batter and beamed. “Ooh! Those dust sparkle sprinkles are the same color as your cutie marks!”

“An’ the ones in the bowls are the actual marks,” Applejack noted. “Sugarcube Corner make, if I were to guess.”

Rarity nodded. “Quite. When I explained my want for a custom decoration, Mr. Cake was happy to oblige.”

“Heh. He would. Did a good job, I reckon. But why have the dust sparkles if you’ve already got the marks themselves?”

The self-satisfied smile on her muzzle grew to show pearl white teeth. “You’ve stumbled onto my little twist, Applejack. My idea is quite simple.” Rarity lit her horn and floated a single sweet cake out of the tray along with a butter knife. With a deft flick, she scooped a generous helping of mulberry icing from the mixing bowl and spread it atop the pastry, then plucked a starburst from the bowl and set it in the center, careful not to disturb the icing too much. Once she finished, she took the blue sparkle dust shaker in hoof and gave it a couple firm shakes, spreading a flurry of sparkles down upon the sweet cake.

“Oooooh!” Pinkie squealed. “I get it! You’re joining your colors with hers and hers with yours!”

“Heh, that’s a mighty cute idea.” Applejack paused to brush a lock of mane out of her eyes, smiling as she looked from Rarity to the newly adorned cupcake. “So, white ones with your diamond mark get pink sprinkles, purple with Twi’s star gets blue?”

“Exactly.”

“Sounds like a plan. Let’s get crackin’.”

Had it been Rarity by herself, the work might have taken the better part of an hour or two. With three mares who loved to talk and laugh together, it took three. But she could hardly complain. What mare would take issue when those she held closest offered their help? Especially when they made everything that much more fun.

By the time they finished, Rarity couldn’t have been more pleased. Her sweet cakes were prepared and decorated with love, all she held for her fiancée.

Her fiancée.

In less than twenty-four hours, her wife.

Rarity gave a happy sigh as she wrapped her treats in foil, setting them on the counter for the morning. Her sweet cakes were ready and so was she.

Butterflies fluttered in her belly like never before when morning came. It almost felt too soon, yet perplexingly not soon enough. As though she had no time at all to bathe, wash and style her mane and tail, brush her coat, and take one last look in the mirror before her mother arrived.

Cookie Crumble wore a small, sad smile, the very same as the one she wore the day Rarity moved out of her fillyhood home when she first opened Carousel Boutique. “It’s time,” she said softly. Her eyes watered, she sniffled and produced a small hoofkerchief from within the confines of her deep purple dress. “My little filly, a married mare today.”

Hearing the words made Rarity’s heart skip a beat. Was she ready after all?

Of course she was, the more rational mare within her chided the nervous, overdramatic romantic. Her love for Twilight was strong, and so was Twilight’s for her. Perhaps stronger, believe it or not. All those years spent fantasizing over a happy fairytale ending culminated in her very own.

Just with a princess instead of a prince, and a small, intimate wedding in her hometown before they left on their honeymoon to the Crystal Empire.

Rarity had waited years for this day. She drank in a deep breath, then gave a single nod, more to herself than her mother. “Would you mind taking the sweet cakes over to Town Hall?”

Cookie Crumble put her hoofkerchief away, her smile grew. “Gladly, darling. Gladly.”

They trotted to the center of town together, exchanging smiles and greeting as they passed by their fellow towns ponies and various guests. Moondancer, Minuette, Lyra, and Lemon Drops had come down from Canterlot to see their old schoolmate wed; several members of Starlight’s old village made the long train ride from Manehattan Station along with Coco Pommel and Photo Finish; Fancy Pants and his loving wife, Fleur de Lis, were chatting with the Riches; King Thorax stood off to the side, flanked by four smiling changeling guards, and chattering away with Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and Prince-Captain Shining Armor.

Or Celestia, Luna, and Shining Armor, as they’d soon insist she call them.

Princess Celestia saw her first. With a smile as radiant as the very sun she raised, the Princess of Day fluffed her wings and beckoned Rarity over, which drew the attention of the other royals.

Rarity felt a rosy hue tinge her cheeks, she mumbled a quick request for her mother to continue on without her, and approached the waiting princess. The moment she came close enough, she stopped and made as if to bow.

Instead, she was pulled into a warm embrace. “Welcome to the family,” Princess Celestia said softly.

At her side, Princess Luna laughed. “Forgive me, but does that not come after the ceremony, sister mine? Or have I been gone so long this changed as well?”

“Quiet, you. I’m a princess, I can do this whatever way I please.”

“As am I. And your sister. I may needle you any way I wish.”

Chuckling, Princess Celestia released Rarity from her embrace, those ancient purple eyes met hers. “Congratulations. You both deserve this day.”

“Thank you, Princess,” Rarity replied. At the royals’ looks, she ducked her head and amended, “I mean, Celestia. And Luna.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Shining said with humor in his tone. “Soon you’ll be calling them ‘auntie’ too.”

“That, I doubt I’ll ever get used to.” Blinking twice, she asked, “Where’s Flurry Heart?”

“With Granny Velvet. Cady wanted to go over a few last minute things to make sure she was ready to minister, and mom wanted to spend a little time with her grand filly before …” He paused. Only then did Rarity notice the strain in his smile and the way he blinked rapidly, like he had something in his eyes.

Hiding tears. Big, burly Shining Armor was a softy for his sister, no matter how old she grew.

Rarity didn’t tease him for it, though. She knew full well what it meant to watch a younger sibling grow before her eyes. A smile tugged at her lips, she reared up and wrapped her hooves around his neck in a tight hug. “Thank you.”

“There’s so much love around her,” one of the changelings, a female, said eagerly. “Can we bring her and Princess Twilight home with us?”

“L-Libulella!” Thorax stammered as Rarity turned to gawk at the changeling contingent. “You know I can’t say yes to that! They’re their own mares!”

A teal changeling with orange eyes tilted her head. “Why not?” she asked. “I’m being polite about it, aren’t I?”

“No! We don’t get to decide that! They do!”

“Oh.” Libulella turned to regard Rarity. “May we take you home with us, then? The hive will provide anything you wish and feed our love in exchange for yours.”

“That’s still not what I meant! It’s still rude to them!”

“Well, I’m trying, Your Highness, but you don’t tell me the rules until I’ve already broken them.”

Rarity stared a moment, her ears twitching as she watched the sputtering changeling King struggle to educate his subordinate. A nudge drew her attention.

Shining Armor cast a knowing wink. “They’re gonna take a while. Go get yourself ready. We’ll see you inside, new little sis.”

She couldn’t help but giggle as she nodded and slipped away, tip hoofing around the bickering changelings on her way toward the back room. Twilight would be set up in the Mayor’s office, on the far side of the building so they wouldn’t see each other, as per the normal tradition. Rarity had been given the file room, albeit with a caveat that she made a Pinkie Promise not to touch the cabinets.

Her gaze flitted about the file room, eying the old wooden floor, the line of file cabinets resting against the back wall, and the pristine white dress bearing an imprint of her diamonds set around Twilight’s starburst cutie mark resting on the rack at the center of the room. The files, to be true, were the last thing on her mind.

Rarity took a deep breath, steeling herself for the day ahead. She hastened over to inspect her work one last time. Every stitch, every inch of fabric had to be perfect for their special day.

She almost didn’t hear the door open and a cadence of hooves thump against the floor. “Sweet cakes are in place, dear,” Cookie Crumble called. “Would you like help putting on your dress?”

Brushing a stray tear from her eye, Rarity replied just above a whisper, “Yes. If you don’t mind.”

A gentle hoof squeezed her shoulder. “Not at all.”

Ponyville Town Hall had seen many a wedding celebrated in its modest wooden hall. Two generations of Apples, Rarity’s parents, the Cakes, Cranky and Matilda, and everypony born, raised, and married in the formerly sleepy little town.

Today, it was home to the smallest, most modest attempt at a royal wedding Equestria had ever seen. Twilight had been quite adamant that she didn’t want a big production. The wedding was to be shared their loved ones, the town they met and lived in, and themselves. It was a day for their friends and family to come from far and wide to meet and celebrate the day.

It wasn’t for the nobles, press, or greater public in Canterlot.

Rarity let her gaze flit about the hall with a satisfied smile. She and Cadence had managed to coax Twilight into letting them go a little bit further on the décor than her initial wants. Rows of folding chairs were spread out over the floor, with the front three reserved for the royals, their families, and friends they’d met throughout their travels. White lace and ribbon adorned those on the end, fastened with a violet and bluebells to match the coats of the brides to be. A single purple tapestry bearing Twilight’s cutie mark hung from the rafters above the altar, the lone piece of a royal wedding that Twilight had allowed after hours of debate.

Before the altar stood Princess Cadence, adorned with golden regalia and crown polished to perfection. Sunlight glinted off the metal with radiance matched only by the brilliant smile and jubilant gleam in her eyes. She swished her tail, sending the tricolored curled end into a graceful lash on her left side. One barely needed to look to see the way she fluffed and fluttered her dusty pink and purple feathers to glean how delighted she felt.

Each of her friends stood flanking the Princess of Love, all garbed in white dresses with the same cutie mark imprint that adorned Rarity’s dress, with a violet and bluebell corsage around their right foreleg—Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy on the right, and Pinkie Pie and Starlight Glimmer on the left.

With her father, Magnum, by her side, Rarity gave a nod to the Crusaders, her chosen flower fillies. Sweetie Belle led the way, skipping along with Apple Bloom and Scootaloo in tow, and flinging flurries of flower petals over the aisle with deft flicks of their hooves.

Rarity and Magnum strode forth in time with the processional march. There was a scraping of chairs on wood and a dull roll of thundering hooves as everypony rose, turning to watch her walk down the aisle. Her heart raced. She fought the urge to prance in place, the little filly who dreamed of her fairytale ending wanted to let out a joyous squeal, but the pragmatic businessmare with a reputation for class calmly stepped on her tail and held her back with a half-amused smile.

They stopped a mere pony’s length from Princess Cadence. Rarity turned to face her father with a watery smile, and wrapped him in a warm hug.

Magnum returned it with fervor, his grip tight. “Love you, little diamond,” he whispered in his rumbling twang, as though he were afraid his voice might break if he spoke any louder. “Y’ain’t never looked so beautiful. And I ain’t never seen a finer mare.”

On any other day, Rarity might have teased him for using such a horrid contraction. Today, however, he had a pass. She drew back enough to peck his cheek and whisper, “I had the best parents a filly could ask for.”

He gave a snort of laughter, dotting her forehead with a kiss. “See you afterward, little diamond.” Magnum turned to face Princess Cadence, bowed, then turned on his hooves and trotted to sit beside Cookie Crumble in the front row.

Rarity bit her lip and approached the waiting princess. With a slight bow of her head, she muttered, “Princess.”

“Princess-Consort,” Princess Cadence greeted playfully. Her eyes flitted toward the door, she waggled her ears. “And sister-in-law soon enough.”

The processional march hit its crescendo a second time. Rarity heard appreciative murmurs sweep over the crowd, the nervous smile gave way to an excited grin. She turned to look and felt her heart promptly leap into her throat.

If her dress was perfection, Twilight’s was beyond it. Oh, certainly, her bride-to-be would claim their dresses were practically the same, but Rarity wasn’t just a practical mare. Heavens no. Her own dress was made second.

Twilight wore the original. And far better than Rarity ever imagined, she might add. Perhaps it was the little extra purple she snuck into the lace to accentuate her coat, or the gold trim to match the lovely regalia and tiara she agreed to wear outside official functions. “Just this once,” as Twilight had said. It took a moment for Rarity to even register Night Light escorting his daughter down the aisle, in fact it wasn’t until he embraced and kissed her on either cheek that she stopped staring.

Unfortunately, she didn’t catch herself before Twilight. Mirth danced naked in those beautiful eyes. Her bride-to-be approached the altar, exchanged a small nod with Cadence, and turned toward Rarity. The left corner of her mouth twitched. “Staring at your own design?” she muttered just loud enough that only those nearest could hear.

“Hardly,” Rarity replied in equal volume. “I’m staring at you.” The blush that tinged Twilight’s mulberry cheeks a deep purple sent her heart racing. Heavens, she was adorable.

Tittering, Princess Cadence shot them a look, then began, “There are many magics in Equestria that aren’t fully understood, but are more powerful than any spell or weapon to be wielded. Among those, friendship, companionship, and love are the most powerful. In my time, I’ve helped many couples find love, and seen countless more fall in love around me. Of them all, I believe the most lasting bonds are found in those who take the time to share in each other’s likes, dislikes, goals, and experiences. All their best moments, and all of their worst.” Her smile was positively radiant, she gestured to Twilight and Rarity. “These mares before me, whose bond we are gathered to celebrate and witness, have been through more than most our kind could claim. Through joy, sadness, anger, and stress, they have stood side-by-side. But my words are merely a third party account. I ask these mares to speak their vows, so all may hear the strength of their shared love.”

Rarity shuffled a hoof against the wooden floor, her tail lashed behind her. Licking her lips, she looked into Twilight’s eyes.

Heavens, she could just stare forever and be content.

A spark of amusement flashed in those purple eyes. Twilight inclined her brows in silent prompting, a smile spread across her face despite her efforts to keep it hidden.

Fixing her with a glare that lacked any heat, Rarity spoke, “Light of my life and ruler of my heart, from the day we met, you’ve astounded me. Whether it be your unfathomable skill in magic, the eagerness with which you delve into studies and solving the mysteries of magic, or the way you simply light up the room with a smile, you are the one who drives my muse. You are the one who makes me feel as though there is something real to all the stories I grew up reading, all the dreams of a silly little filly who longed to find her Prince Charming.” Pausing a moment, she winked. “Little did that filly realize that she should have been looking for Princess Wonderful.”

“Oh, Celestia, Rarity!” Twilight muttered through breathy laughter, just loud enough for the first few rows to hear and chuckle over.

Unabashed, Rarity pressed on. “My vow to you is unyielding support, through sickness and health, through your best moments and worse, I will stand at your side and offer my love to give you strength.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Libulella lick her lips, which fetched a nudge and stern look from King Thorax. The changeling mare had the grace to look sheepish, even if others hadn’t noticed.

As she finished, all attention turned to Twilight. Equestria’s youngest and newest princess rustled her wings, another wave of good-natured laughter swept over the room, even Princess Celestia’s dulcet chuckles filled Rarity’s ears, drawing a blush to those adorable mulberry cheeks.

“Rarity among ponies, sparkling diamond of my eye,” Twilight spoke with a tremor in her voice. “Your passion and creativity stir the hearts of ponies the world over, and are matched only by your generosity and love for those around you. Your love for seeing the beauty of others brought out through the dresses you create is a magic all on its own. I offer all of my magic and love to be your rock when your muse falters or stress ails you. My home is your shelter, my embrace your shield. I am yours forever.”

Tears stung at her eyes. Rarity licked her dried lips, ready and eager, but waiting for Princess Cadence to finish.

“If anypony has any objections after hearing these vows,” the Princess of Love said, “let he or she speak now, or forever hold their peace.” Her eyes scanned the crowd like a hawk in search of prey. When none rose or spoke, she nodded once. “Then by the power invested in me, I now pronounce you mare and mare. Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship and Magic, you may kiss your bride.”

Twilight didn’t hesitate for a second. She closed the distance between them in two quick strides and nuzzled Rarity’s snout before tilting her head to one side and pressing their lips together in a gentle, fluffy kiss. Her weight shifted, her hooves slid up to wrap around Rarity’s neck, a gesture she was happy to reciprocate.

They parted and held one another close, nosing against each other before turning to face the gathered crowd. A thunder of applause and cheers filled the room. Rainbow Dash threw caution to the wind, whooping and backflipping through the air in time to catch the hat Applejack merrily tossed. Discord, who had kept himself hidden and quiet for far longer than expected, shimmered into being above them and set off a shower of sparklers, aided by Spike and the Crusaders.

Rarity leaned against her wife, grinning as joyful tears rolled freely down her cheeks. Her fairytale wedding hadn’t needed some suave prince or big castle in a far away land. This was it.

But there was just one thing left to make it all perfect. Well. Maybe more than one thing. Pinkie had waited long enough.

“Pinkie,” she called.

In an instant, Pinkie Pie was at her side. An excited grin split her face. “Now?” she asked, vibrating with glee.

Rarity nodded. “Now.”

The familiar party cannon was out and primed in a blink of an eye. Rarity barely had time to register Twilight’s horn flashing and the tingle of teleportation racing across her coat before they disappeared and reappeared behind the altar, safe from the shower of confetti that came with Pinkie’s first salvo.

Their friends and Cadence, however, weren’t so lucky. Covered in confetti, the mares aimed playful glares at Pinkie Pie and shook hooves in her direction. Pinkie’s grin turned sheepish, she babbled a quick excuse about setting up the reception and zipped off before Rainbow could get a hoof on her. The score would be settled later, no doubt.

After the festivities, Rarity hoped.

Once Rainbow got her revenge in the form of a ferocious noogie that left Pinkie’s bouncy, fluffy mane looking more like a dandelion, it was time to begin the reception. The chairs were moved so several large, circular tables could fill the outer edges of the room, leaving a nice, empty area for the dance floor. White linens covered the tables, with silverware and plates set out for everypony, and a single vase with a violet and bluebell. A single rectangular table stood at the designated “head” of the room, where the brides and their friends and families sat.

Pinkie Pie and the Cakes wheeled out a rolling cart, laden with trays of sweet cakes. For a moment, Rarity allowed herself a smile as she appreciated her work. And that of her helpers, of course.

At her right side, Twilight sat up a little straighter, her brows furrowed as she watched Pinkie and the Cakes place a pair of sweet cakes before each pony, changeling, and draconequus before coming to the head of the table. She looked from the pair on her own plate, to those on Rarity’s. “Sweet cakes?” she muttered thoughtfully. Her ears twitched, she turned to fix Rarity with a calculating look. Gears and wheels whirred behind her soulful eyes. Her brows raised slowly. “Ah. Yesterday.”

“Yes,” Rarity replied with a crooked smile. “Family tradition.”

“I see.” Mulberry ears twitched again. There was a spark of something in her eyes. “Well then.” Twilight lit her horn, wrapping a tendril of magic around the purple sweet cake and lifted it to hover between them. “Open wide.”

Something about her tone made Rarity hesitate. Her gaze flitted between the hovering treat and Twilight herself. Still, she acquiesced with a smile.

Exactly as Twilight wanted. Before Rarity could realize, Twilight pressed the sweet cake into her snout, icing first, staining her pristine white coat purple with the scent of mulberries. Rarity squeaked and drew away, brushing a hoof across her snout and fixing her wife with a stern glare.

“Repayment,” Twilight said, her eyes dancing, “for the glob you got me with yesterday.”

Oh. Right. Rarity licked a stray bit of icing from her lips with a sigh of defeat. “Very well. I did deserve that.”

“Yes you did. Now—” this mischievous gleam died down as a more genuine smile spread across her face. “—Let’s do it properly this time.”

With a quick glare to silence the snickering laughter from their friends, Rarity opened her mouth, this time, though, she kept her eyes on Twilight, wary of any further trickery.

None came. Her loving wife broke off a small portion of fluffy sweet cake and gently placed it into Rarity’s mouth.

Sweet yellow cake, mulberries, and sugary sprinkles danced upon her tongue. A delicious treat, almost as sweet as the chaste kiss that followed.

Almost.