Author's Notes:

A/N: Hey all! I usually don't do this, but just putting a forward here before we get started: As mentioned, this is a standalone one-shot that takes place in a larger story I'm toying around with, but aren't touching until I'm at least done with Summoning Twilight and its sequel.

That being said, there are mentions in this one-shot to the larger plot, but nothing important; just the basics are eluded to, and everything that pertains to the story can be picked up through context in the narrative. At least... that's the goal.

Though, really, you could argue that I wanted to write some clop and Summoning Twilight was taking too long to get to that point.

Regardless, in the end we have this two parter.

Enjoy.

As far as the random inns went in the smaller, less-populated earth pony towns, the one and Twilight Sparkle and Rarity found themselves stumbling up to could have been a lot worse. The walls of the 'establishment' looked less than solid, the light from inside peeking through the gaps between the boards against peeling orange and yellow paint of the façade, and a single, faded sign above the door swaying slightly in the breeze. There was nothing about the building, aside from its ghastly appearance alone, that was inviting, but the fact that it was shelter and they were exhausted from travelling all day kept Twilight and Rarity from turning away in search of better lodgings.

At this point, Twilight would have been fine with camping out in a cave. So the inn, no matter how foreboding and creepy it looked, may as well have been the best hotel in Equestria.

With a gentle push of magic, the front door creaked open to a surprisingly crowded dining area, full of tables of all shapes and sizes – likely gathered from all manner of places – and stacked end to end in long rows to allow for maximum occupancy. Such a set up was practical, Twilight knew, but also provided pretty much zero privacy for diners and, after spending the last few days moving from place to place all the way from the shelter of Old Fillydelphia, all she wanted to do was have some peace and quiet with her friend away from the never-ending stress of travelling.

The din of idle conversation grew quiet the moment Twilight and Rarity stepped inside, and every eye swiveled over to inspect the new arrivals. Idle curiosity quickly grew to surprise, and then shock, and then, in turn, each set of eyes lowered, turning attention away from the pair.

Whether it was due to respect or pity, Twilight didn’t know. Every pony in Equestria knew who she and Rarity were -- more so Twilight, being the last alicorn left as well as the Element of Magic left little doubt to her identity -- and ponies knew better than to draw attention to them when they appeared in the public eye.

Most ponies, anyway.

In an attempt to get even a sliver of privacy, Twilight and Rarity huddled together at the far end of the table nearest the stairs, where their only neighbor was a rickety old mare, a lethargic smile on her muzzle as she sipped at some amber-colored, obscure drink in her nearly fossilized hooves. They swallowed their dinner – a pair of small, mealy apples and cabbage stew – in silence, and as soon as the last bites of their meager supper were finished they pushed away from the table and began to tiredly collect their few belongings they'd set at their hooves.

The stairs to the second floor were narrow and creaked when stepped on, and the hall at the top of the steps was equally narrow and dimly lit by old, rusty lamps that were mounted every ten feet or so along the length or the corridor. They flickered weakly as though their wicks had run dry years ago.

Twilight levitated the worn, metal key she had gotten from the stallion running the inn and nodded to herself as she began scanning the doors on either side of the hall for their room number.

The even numbered rooms were on the right with the odd on the left, and it didn't take much effort for them to determine that their room – room number eight, it seemed – was the last door at the end of the hall. Twilight angled her horn forward and, with a brush of magic, slid the key into the equally old and rusted lock, sighing in relief when the door opened with little more than a light shove. Twilight tilted her head and smiled tiredly at her companion, giving a small wave of her hoof for her to enter first. Rarity rolled her eyes and cantered inside with Twilight swooping in after her.

They stopped just far enough inside the room for Twilight to close the door behind them and stood there, shoulder to shoulder, matching expressions of dismay on their faces as they took in their lodgings for the night.

Twilight knew that Rarity, with her preference for opulence, niceties and general frivolity in daily life – such habits weren't easily broken even after her years as a fashionista – was clearly stuck aghast at the sparse furnishings. The old blanket on the bed was threadbare at best, and looked like it would be nearly useless in its task of keeping anypony warm. The floor was bare, the boards dirty and uneven, and more than a few looked as though they would break if stepped on. The lone window cut into the wooden wall opposite the door was empty, with no curtains they could use to close it off for privacy. Not that it was likely that somepony other than the few pegasii left would be able to see up into a second floor window, but Twilight was sure Rarity found the lack of any sort of curtains to be one injustice too many.

Surely even third-class ponies deserve a simple curtain! She could hear the unicorn’s scathing reprimand, even now.

Sure enough, only moments later, Rarity didn't disappoint.

"This is horrid," she muttered, huffing indignantly as she dropped her saddlebags on the floor beside a small, wobbly looking chest of drawers neither of them dared to open for fear of what they may find inside. She then pulled her cloak from her withers and folded it gently atop her bags, so that it didn't touch anything else. "I mean, really."

Twilight was certain that Rarity was not seeing the same issue with the room as she was, but she indulged her friend anyway. "Well, I see one problem with this place. You wanna tell me what is bugging you about our current situation, Rarity?"

Rarity let out an inelegant snort and shot her companion an exasperated look. "You don't need to make fun of me, Princess Twilight Sparkle. Look around you. Honestly, this – this – prison cell masquerading as a room makes even the most decrepit of hovels look downright regal."

Twilight smiled; a real, honest smile. It had been a while since she had one of those. It was a relief, in a way. In the years following the fall Canterlot and the rise of the Queen Chrysalis and her army of Changelings, such things like smiling and laughing were few and far between; even with the Element of Laughter working overtime. And to see a glimpse of the materialistic, prim and proper pony that Rarity had once been and, against Twilight's better judgment, fallen for, was a rare occurrence.

"Aww, I liked that old shack," she jibed lightly. She didn’t know exactly what instance Rarity was referring to, but the two of them had been together long enough for Twilight to make a few educated guesses. "At least there weren’t any rats."

Rarity sneered, rolling her eyes again as she turned to glare at her friend. "That… shack as you so eloquently put it, was as deplorable as it was dangerous. We were lucky to not die from hypothermia."

"But we didn't," Twilight pointed out, stretching her wings out as much as the small room would allow as she set her own things down on the floor. "Come on, Rarity, admit it -- it wasn’t so bad. And neither is this place. At least, not as much as you're making it."

"You're making fun of me," Rarity said flatly at Twilight’s nonchalant attitude. She made to take a step, but paused, visibly wincing as though she didn’t want to step anywhere unsafe or dirty. "Well then, if you're so smart, tell me… what is it that you find so distressing about our situation?"

"Well," Twilight drawled as she waved a wingtip around the room, "for one, the fact that there’s only one bed and there are two of us. But I'll give you the lack of decorations a close second."

Rarity blinked, turning to reassess the room around them. The fact that there was only one bed – and a very small looking one, at that – should have been more than a cause for the other pony’s concern. In the long years spent since they first met in Ponyville, Rarity had always been something of an enigma to Twilight; whether it was the unicorn's typical flippant attitude and surprisingly -- or perhaps unsurprisingly -- generous behavior, or the fact that she always seemed to get annoyed by the smallest, most inconsequential things. They had gotten better at communicating over the years, first as unlikely fellow Elements of Harmony and then later as best friends, but there was still the occasional instance where Twilight was deathly afraid Rarity would say 'Enough!' and leave Twilight, along with everypony else, to their fate.

It was at those times where even Pinky Pie's limitless optimism wouldn’t be enough to keep Twilight’s tears from falling.

Surprisingly, the words that Rarity finally spoke weren't the ones that Twilight thought she would say. "I hardly think that's something we need to worry about. We should both fit easily enough, though it might be a little cramped…" She tapped her bottom lip with the tip of her hoof thoughtfully, and then shrugged, even making such a simple gesture seem elegant in Twilight’s eyes. "Now, let's get ready for bed. I suppose it would be too much to ask for a shower, but I'll be damned if I sleep without brushing my mane for three days in a row!"

Twilight let out a quiet sigh and nodded as she stooped down to their discarded bags, taking note of their belongings. What had become a necessity for survival while moving from place to place for so long had eventually become a habit; a method to sooth frayed nerves. She herself never left anything out of place -- her few possessions aside -- but Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, and surprisingly Fluttershy always seemed to leave something at one place or another. Taking stock of their things while on the road just seemed to come naturally to Twilight, and so it quickly became one of the many jobs the others delegated to her.

"Do you, um, have a preferred side of the bed?" she asked Rarity as she checked off her mental list -- spare quills and ink, a couple essential books, pouches of water, medicine, Rarity’s sewing kit -- and silently wishing the other mare would just answer the question without attempting any kind of full-blown conversation.

"The furthest from the door, now that you mention it," Rarity said simply as she levitated her brush to run it through her dark purple mane, working diligently to untangle three days worth of snags. With her back to Twilight, the purple alicorn chanced a safe glance at her friend, wishing yet again that she had the opportunity, or at least the courage, to say something to Rarity about how she felt.

But by sweet Celestia… the sight of so much perfect, pale fur made Twilight heart skip a beat as she watched the other mare turn her head slightly to the side, exposing her neck, her eyelashes fluttering as she hummed a soft tune to herself. Rarity had always been a beauty, at least in Twilight’s opinion, even with the scar across her flank -- gotten from a group of Changelings that ambushed them in the early days of the invasion -- and the noticeable signs of wear around her face that took the form of barely-visible wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth, but the mere sight of her body coupled with her long, elegant limbs pushed the mare far past simply being 'beautiful' into the territory of ravishing.

Twilight swallowed thickly and dipped her head. "A-alright." She was relieved that her voice was only slightly huskier than normal. That was a win, in her mind. "You first," she murmured, gesturing towards the bed. She looked away as Rarity climbed atop the bed and slid between the sheets – such as they were – and only again looked at her friend when she heard the sound of a throat being cleared.

"Is there a reason you are trying to win a staring contest with the wall?" Rarity said lightly, teasing, as she propped herself up on her forearm to look at Twilight.

Licking her lips in an effort to stall for time, Twilight felt the battle waging inside her for her heart daring her mind to answer honestly, to tell Rarity how she felt – how she had felt for years – to just have it over and done with. On any other night, Twilight would simply grin and feign ignorance, shrugging away any probing questions her friend deemed necessary to ask, but tonight, for some reason she couldn't fathom, she didn't have the energy to lie. "Because it keeps me from staring at you like an idiot."

"Oh, really?" Rarity tilted her head to the side, amusement coloring her tone. "Am I really that hideous to look at?"

Shaking her head resolutely, Twilight managed to get out the words she always thought, but never had the guts to say. "No… you're the most beautiful pony I have ever met." She exhaled and swiveled her amethyst eyes to lock with the other mare's cerulean ones, and then grinned weakly. "But, that does not give you permission to steal all the blankets."

Rarity's lips curled up at the corners, clearly pleased with the compliment. "Well, I can't promise anything, but I shall do my best to share." She lifted up the blankets that were draped over her flank. "Now come on. It's late and I'm tired. We have a long way to go if we’re to reach New Canterlot by the end of the week."

Thankful that her sudden compliment was taken in stride and Rarity didn't push on how awkward Twilight was acting, she slipped beneath the rough, scratchy sheets and lay down stiffly beside her friend. It was small and uncomfortable, but it was better than sleeping on cold, wet dirt. In fact, she wasn't even fully on the bed, with half of her rump hanging off the mattress, but she refused to move any closer.

"Do you, um, do you have enough room?" she asked quietly.

With a tremendous roll of her eyes, Rarity reached out and tugged at Twilight's foreleg, gently pulling her closer. "I don't bite, Twilight," she huffed, and then sighed as she playfully nudged her shoulder.

Twilight smiled and nodded as she let Rarity get comfortable as she pleased. Which meant, when all the shuffling and shifting was done, the unicorn’s head was resting on Twilight’s shoulder, carefully to avoid poking the other with her horn. Her soft, freshly brushed mane tickling the side of Twilight’s face, and her foreleg wrapped awkwardly around her barrel.

"Good night, Twilight," Rarity murmured as she burrowed closer, gently squeezing Twilight between her forelegs.

Twilight had never really been a physical mare, essentially having grown up in the bowels of the Old Canterlot library, and that had never really changed as she grew older. But as she grew to know -- and love -- her friends, and the other ponies she considered her family, Twilight had learned to understand and cherish the need for physical affection, often combining simple touches and embraces with other, more emotional gestures; her interactions with Rarity being the basis for all of her relationships. For as long as she had known the Element of Generosity, the mare had been nothing but a friend to her. Her oddities aside, she had opened up to Twilight over the years, of course, as anypony did when in the process of becoming friends, but she was always somewhat emotionally, if not physically distant.

Only in the past few years, however, did Twilight notice subtle changes in Rarity's personality. At least, around Twilight. Where she had once been pleasant, friendly, and exceedingly generous to all, those traits were now much more affectionate, almost blindingly so, to those she considered closest to her. She was still sarcastic and snooty at times, but Twilight had long realized that was part of the Rarity’s charm, and why Twilight loved her.

Still though, Twilight didn't quite know how to react when Rarity acted this way; so close and affectionate, almost as if they were sisters instead of simply friends and fellow Elements of Harmony. At times Twilight would be afraid to do anything, or else risk ruining what friendship they had, and in turn causing an unbridgeable gap in their lives that would cause everything they have managed to help -- to save -- to come crashing down around them.

Not that it would matter in the end…

Biting her lip to steer her thoughts away from the past and back to the present, Twilight relaxed into the bed and hoped her words and actions that night would be interpreted as an affectionate gesture instead of something else entirely.

"Goodnight, Rarity," she finally whispered, her voice soft and loving.

The other mare hummed and snuggled closer, and Twilight let out a slight sigh of relief that she had behaved as Rarity wanted. Twilight concentrated minutely for a moment, reaching out with her magic to douse the small lamp on the broken table beside the bed, and felt a wave of peace wash over her as darkness surrounded them.

Seconds bled into minutes, which turned into hours in which Twilight refused to sleep. Too many things plagued her mind; their their mission to travel to New Canterlot to meet with the council, how the others were doing in their tasks -- Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash meeting with what remained of the Pegasus race, and Pinkie Pie and Applejack moving from settlement to settlement, delivering supplies and joy where they could -- to the years it had been since she fall of Old Canterlot and the loss of so many of their friends and loved ones…

Her and Rarity.

Twilight licked her lips, her eyes flicking around the moonlit room, checking for the slightest movement. When there was nothing save for the occasional creak of the walls and muted murmur of voices from the first floor, Twilight instead focused her attention on the rise and fall of Rarity's body as she breathed. The white-furred pony had always been a fitful sleeper, as opposed to somepony like Rainbow Dash, who could, as Rarity had put it, 'sleep through a rampaging horde of Ursa Minor if given half the chance', and would occasionally fuss of flail in her sleep. Whether she was having a difficult dream or simply because her body was instinctively aware that she wasn't in the safest of locations to sleep in, Twilight was jolted from her thoughts to hurry and mutter hushed words like 'It's okay, Rarity' and 'I've got you', squeezing the other mare’s foreleg reassuringly.

At some point during the night, in an attempt to calm Rarity's subconscious movements as she slept, Twilight found herself drawing random patterns on the her withers and back with gentle brushes of her magic. She was surprised to find that this worked better than her whispered reassurances did, and spent the remainder of the night scribbling different patterns and pictures on downy fur. Oddly enough, Twilight found it as comforting as Rarity seemed to, and with every picture she drew she felt herself feeling lighter and lighter. Random swirls and shapes became small pictures, her friends’ cutie marks -- a trio of apples, balloons and butterflies, a cloud and lightning-shaped rainbow – and eventually she found herself writing words, simple words that when laid out beside each other spelled out 'I love you, Rarity' in soft, raspberry light along the unicorn’s back.

Okay, maybe it wasn't the best, or the most romantic of confessions in Equestrian history, but it was the only kind that Twilight had to courage to make at this point, and even in doing that much in sharing her feelings with her friend made her feel better that she had felt in a long time.

Even if they were only spoken in silence, to the mare fast asleep in her embrace.