It had finally come.

Twilight had very nearly started dancing in place when the mail had been delivered that morning; a parcel specially marked for her was among the usual letters. So excited was she that it had taken the mail carrier several moments worth of knocking to get the librarian to come back to the door to actually sign for the package.

Certainly, the mailmare had seen ponies this excited at receiving their mail before; it was always nice to get something, but she hadn't seen anyone go wide-eyed and start to stutter at the sight of a paper-wrapped cylinder. It was probably best not to think about it, though the mailmare couldn't help but note how whenever she delivered similarly-shaped packages, it was to lonely mares who grew awfully shifty when it was handed to them. Most of those were a fair bit smaller than Twilight's parcel, too… No, definitely best not to think about it.

Twilight bolted the door shut behind her for the second time after signing the offered clipboard in a hurried scrawl. She practically floated across the room, parcel in tow, not able to keep from casting furtive looks at it again and again. Simple brown paper, tied neatly with twine, her name and address the only markings on it. A cylinder near as long as her front leg, wide around as a hoof, and with a weight to it she hadn't been expecting. The excitement was electric in her blood, tingling across every nerve; it caused her stomach to flutter and made a blush creep across her cheeks.

Twilight had saved every bit she could for months to place the order, and even then it had taken more than two months for it to arrive. It was a special order, everything made to her exacting specifications: every intimate detail accounted for. The waiting had been the worst part; every morning for the past three weeks she found herself pacing in the main room, waiting for the mail to arrive in the hopes that the day had finally come.

One could understand her excitement; she only knew of two other ponies who had something like this. Oh, most used something similar of course, but nothing so exotic or expensive. Princess Celestia had one, and had shown it to Twilight once a number of years back which served to plant the seed. It had been Rainbow Dash's that settled the matter; Twilight's friend had taken it out to show off, just to see what the bookish Twilight would do. Apparently she had gotten it as a gift from Gilda, which surprised Twilight at first, but reflecting on their relationship before their falling out it seemed rather fitting.

Twilight moved swiftly up the stairs to her rooms, though she was fidgeting nervously as she set the long package down on her desk. A violet nimbus manipulated the twine, drawing the bow apart with a raspy whisper, the brown paper going slightly loose without its binding. Twilight licked her bottom lip, pink tongue soft and wet, her eyes wide and riveted to the cylinder as she drew the wrapping away.

It wasn't an ornate box, but it had every look of being expensive. The ponies who built these put all of their efforts into quality and care rather than flash. Elegant in simplicity; the tube was crafted of mahogany, stained very nearly black in such a way that brought out the swirls and ripples of the wood's grain, the whole of it polished to a satin sheen. A few inches from the top, two rings of gold encircled the tube, stark against the dark wood. Twilight turned the cylinder around a bit and saw it there: gold inlaid with exquisite care in beautiful cursive script. A single word.

- Ink -

Twilight had to blush at the name; she had never given one to this kind of thing before, but Princess Celestia had named hers after a soldier stallion she had been especially fond of, and Dash had called her 'Cumulous', which Twilight had half-expected from a pegasus.

'Ink' was a fitting name, though. Twilight had wanted it as dark as could be, end-to-end. She was about to twist open the case, but stopped herself just as her magic lifted the dark cylinder from the desk.

"No. Not yet…" she murmured to herself, chewing on her bottom lip, legs stepping impatiently, so very eager, wanting to open it, just to look… but Twilight knew that if she did that, she would want to use it right then and there, and likely more than just once. She had promised Applejack she'd go to Sweet Apple Acres to help organize their harvest, and even with every iota of need and want telling her to just open up that case and pull Ink out for a trial run, she just couldn't risk going back on her word.

No, better to just leave it as it was.

Twilight set the cylinder upright on the corner of the desk and gave it a longing look before trotting down the stairs with an unfulfilled sigh. There was good news waiting for her on the main floor, at least. Spike had fixed their breakfast of tea and lemon tarts, and had let her know that he was off for the day on necessary business to Canterlot, not to be back until morning.

Twilight had hopped her way out the door afterwards, her mind all awhirl with plans with what to do: a whole night and library to herself. It certainly wasn't a complicated itinerary, she just needed a few special items… all of which she had already found and bought and carefully set aside for just such a day. Being organized means having plans ready ahead of time, after all. She remembered the little lockbox under her bed, and giggled sweetly to herself. An entire night alone to try out Ink… the thought sent another wave of butterflies to her stomach, the heat creeping back into her cheeks.

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The work with the Apple family was a bit more tiring and intense than merely making a checklist and telling ponies what to do. Certainly there was that to be seen to, but every worker on a farm has to help with the lifting and hauling. Happily, there were no better ponies more pleasant to work with, and certainly few quite so understanding; Twilight was an eager helper but not always the best at it after a soft life like hers. She was delegated to seeing to stacking and positioning lighter things in between directing the others to get all the equipment arranged to make for the most efficient harvest yet.

It wasn't so seamless as it sounded of course; Twilight was distracted in a most problematic way, her imagination drifting back to the package waiting for her on her desk. She hadn't even taken a look at it yet, but she had been so specific with the details that it was clear as day in her mind's eye. She could see the length of smooth, satin-soft darkness, the gentle curve to it just so, the end round and blunt… Twilight wondered what it would be like to hold, to brush her lips over...

She noticed Big Macintosh was giving her an odd look at this point, namely because Twilight's eyes had to be pointing in some direction and just happened to be staring at him the whole time. While she was fidgeting and chewing her bottom lip. And blushing. When she realized how she looked, the mare stammered and apology and hurried off to find something to do, hoping to take her mind off certain things.

The big workhorse shook his head a bit and continued to haul his laden cart, idly wondering just why it was mares always found his big Apple cutie mark so fascinating. A moment later he remembered just why, and spent the rest of the day with a smirk on his face.

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Twilight didn't stay for supper when the work was done; she just couldn't wait any longer. She made polite excuses and ran home in as stately a fashion as she could manage.

The door was locked tight behind her, every light off. Up the stairs she flew, only to pause at the top of the flight when she saw the expertly crafted black case sitting exactly where she had left it. The afternoon sun filtering through the window gave it a warm glow, gleaming off the gold accents. The pony drifted towards it, a coy little grin curling her lips. She turned her head slightly, a flare of violet light sparking from her horn, coaxing her lockbox out from under her bed with a glow of magic around it. She set it on the edge of the desk nearest the bed and worked it open with a practiced twist of magic. The lid lifted silently on well-oiled hinges, all her special things sitting neatly inside: jars and bottles so very hard to find and so very worth saving…

Twilight lit the pair of candles that sat at either end of the desk, then drew the cylinder towards her. With the care of one wanting to savour every moment, she twisted open the case, holding her breath the whole time. She drew out the object of her desire, colour rushing to her cheeks, her whole body electric, squirming in place, hooves fidgeting. Magic held it aloft, but she couldn't help but need to touch it; she smoothed her cheek against the midnight-black length, a shaky breath escaping her as she turned her head just so, caressing it with her lips, giggling as the blunt end stirred her mane and nudged against her horn.

Everything was ready, every last item in place; the librarian's fastidiousness showing even now. Carefully, so very carefully, holding her breath, she nudged the tip into the tight entrance. Her lips parted; a quavery, nervous exhalation coming from her breast as she got Ink wet for the first time of many that night…

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When Spike came home the next morning, he found Twilight asleep and sprawled across a bed that looked like it had been hit with a bomb. Covers were strewn every which way, pillows were scattered across the floor, and a number of narrow-necked bottles were strewn around the place. The pony was snoring in a most unladylike fashion with the widest smile Spike had ever seen across her face.

He also noticed, laying across her stomach, was the shimmering black, gently curving shape of the singularly most beautiful Gryphon's feather quill he had ever seen. Its golden nib was etched with shapes of stars circling a crescent moon, and still wet with the rare lapis lazuli inks Twilight had been hoarding for months. There was a stack of freshly written papers on the desk, near half as tall as he was.

"Librarians," he muttered, and set about tidying the place up.