In the darkened space of Rarity's room, right in the midst of her work, her eyes stung with familiar pain. Allowing them to receive a break, she decided to peek outside. The sunlight pierced her eyes, a side effect of countless hours working by desk lamp and the light of her magic, and she let out a soft hiss. Once her eyes became adjusted to the unfamiliar sight, she peered at the streets below.
Ponies were wearing clothing of red. Some wore dresses that sparkled in the light. Others wore shirts that had an array of patterns.
A pleased smile formed, no doubt the result of hard work bearing its reward. With new resolve, Rarity closed the curtains and went back to her desk.
The soft whirring of the sewing machine was quite literally music to her ears. It was at least better than the whispers floating on the air, crying out for help, asking for a motive. And she had gotten good at blocking certain noises out while focusing on other ones. She continued to place stitch upon stitch into her latest creation, a dress made of the finest cotton that she was making as part of a new line -- the same line that was one of the hottest things in Equestrian fashion at the moment.
The more she thought about all the ways in which her line was spreading, the harder she worked, until it was finally complete. Caught in her cool blue magic, she eyed it, tapping her chin as she wondered if some sequins were in order. Ultimately, she forewent the idea, and moved the sewing machine to the side as she placed the dress down.
Now, it was time for the pop and pizzazz. Her eyes drifted to the right, where a small metal dish of clear liquid sat. Carefully, she lifted a small eyedropper, no bigger than her hoof, and dipped it into the dish, squeezing the top of it over and over until its barrel was clean. As much as she lamented this part, it was merely part of the process, and it hadn't failed her. It would never fail her. She would make sure of that.
She turned around, eyeing the six mannequins she had set up. Each one was marked with bandages, and she couldn't help but sigh as she let her eyes fall on one mannequin in particular. This one had the most bandages, though there was a good reason for it. This mannequin was a good model for her clothes, after all.
As she made her way over to the mannequin with the eyedropper, she eyed the bandages with intrigue. One covered the flank, and she made the decision to peel back that one.
Under it was a small hole, a faded image forming a makeshift ring around it. Rarity had long since forgotten what the image was, but that part of the mannequin was valuable. With it, she created some of the finest dresses, ones that grabbed the attention of even the most old-fashioned of ponies. There was no doubt that it was the one which kicked off the trend to begin with, the one that allowed Rarity to soar to new heights of stardom.
With a world-splitting grin, she moved the eyedropper close to the hole. The whispers became almost deafening. Listening to them would make out words like "help" and "no" and "stop". But Rarity was good at tuning out the whispers, and so she pressed onward.
When the eyedropper was in the hole, the whispers stopped, and the room fell silent. All Rarity could hear was the sound of her own heart, and her lungs slowly taking in and pushing out air.
The tube filled up with a beautiful and vibrant red for only a second before the eyedropper was removed and the bandage was plastered back on. Rarity moved back to her desk, examining the tool under the desk lamp. Once she was satisfied with her extraction, she poised the eyedropper over the center of the dress, and took a deep breath.
A single drop fell and made impact. From there, the color began spreading through the fibers, soaking them like paint spilling onto a blank canvas. Rarity dared not blink, for fear of missing such a wondrous sight, and watched the expanding pool fill the fibers that made up the frills at the bottom before her eyes moved upwards to watch the liquid seep into the collar and the sleeves.
The show was over just as soon as it had begun. Rarity smiled with glee, rinsing out the eyedropper in the clear liquid and letting it rest in the dish. Her magic took the dress and hung it on a clothes hanger to allow it to dry. She had learned the color set faster in the sun, but the last thing she wanted was a bumbling pegasus ruining her hard work, and so she had decided to let it dry inside.
She grabbed a shirt from the rack that held clothes yet to be colored. The whispers came again, the same words edging into more cries of desperation. Rarity had a harder time ignoring them. Her expression twisted into annoyance as she laid the shirt down onto the desk, making sure to unplug the sewing machine to give it a well-deserved break.
"Rarity."
The mare stiffened.
"What happened to you? Where did my friend go?"
Her teeth began to clench.
"You know this isn't right."
She whirled around. "You wouldn't understand, darling. Ponies all over Equestria love my new designs. That is all that matters."
"Even if the means to make them are immoral?"
"Immoral?!" Rarity sputtered. "They are certainly not immoral! You volunteered to help!"
"That was before I realized what you were doing. Could you not have used red thread?"
"Years of working in the fashion industry have taught me what material is superior and what material is inferior."
"I see you have betrayed your morals."
"Be quiet. There is a reason I stopped using you."
"Because mine was an inferior material, right? It didn't achieve the right shade of red you wanted, so you-"
Rarity lit up her horn and fired a blast of magic. The mannequin fell to the floor, and the whispers turned from desperate to frantic.
"And if you dare talk back again, I will not hesitate to let you rot in the town dump." Rarity went back to her desk. "Now shush. The artiste must work."
But even as she sterilized the eyedropper and prepared to pick another source, she couldn't ignore the unasked question, the one that still hung thick in the air despite having never been uttered. It was an idiotic and rhetorical question, one that Rarity had stopped answering after the first few times it was asked. The mannequin should know the answer. They should all know.
If a material became inferior, it and its source were discarded without any thought. Too much time wasted on trying to squeeze the life out of such materials had caused Rarity to make such a rule. She knew when a material had run its course. It's why she had thrown out the red thread and never sought out another spool.
As she settled into her routine, a loud bang echoed throughout the room that made her jump with a yelp and then tumble to the floor. Muttering a string of unladylike curses, she got to her hooves and went to the window, flinging back the curtains and frowning at the grey wall-eyed pegasus that was hovering in front of her.
"Hi, Rarity! I have mail for you!" The mailmare reached into her saddlebag and pulled out a few letters. "Here you go!"
Rarity opened the window and took the letters in her magic. "Ah, yes. Thank you, Derpy." she said, adjusting the curtain so her...well, it was a stretch to say "friend", but the point was for Derpy to not see the mannequins inside. Who, to her chagrin, were desperately whispering again. She almost wanted to snap at them, but knew much better than to do that in front of an unsuspecting pony.
"You're welcome!"
"But...please, use the front door for mail deliveries next time."
"Right, right. Sorry. I'm still learning how not to crash into windows." Derpy laughed. "Have a good day!"
"You as well."
When Rarity felt the coast was clear, she raised a leg to shield her eyes from the sun, then closed the windows and drew the curtains again. She used the light of the desk lamp to sort through the letters, discarding the brochures and advertisements until she got to the meat of the pile.
The first piece of legitimate mail that popped out at her was a letter from one of the princesses. With all the ferocity of a filly opening a Hearth's Warming present, Rarity tore the letter open and read it.
Dear Rarity,
I hope this letter finds you well. Normally, I would have one of my secretaries compose it and send it on my behalf, but I am asking for a personal favor.For the past two weeks, a certain fashion trend has swept through Canterlot. Through all sorts of meetings and courts, I have seen ponies wearing nothing but the color red. At first, I thought it was for some sort of event, perhaps a festival that I was somehow unaware of. But when I inquired about it, I was able to come to a conclusion.
Thus, I would like to ask if you would be so kind as to make me a red dress. Something that will help me stand out at galas and parties. As you have made clothing for ponies for a long time, I trust you will do a wonderful job. When the dress is completed, please write back to me; I am happy to send somepony to pick it up for you.
Signed.
Princess Celestia
Rarity grinned. She read the letter over and over again, hoping that her frequent work wasn't causing her to hallucinate. She stabbed herself with a sewing needle to make sure she wasn't dreaming. But no matter what she did, it all led to the same thing.
One of the princesses wanted in on her trend.
Already the gears in her mind were turning as she thought of designs. The only prerequisite she was given was that the dress had to make Celestia stand out, but that was an easy hurdle for her to clear. Still, that didn't mean she was going to turn to her rack of clothing to pick out a dress already made. That would be the easy way out. If she was going to make clothing for one half of the diarchy, she was going to give herself a bit of a challenge.
She grabbed some sketch paper and got to work.
"Rarity."
Her pencil pressed into the paper, threatening to break the tip of the tool.
"You aren't really going to give your dress to Princess Celestia, are you? Do you know how disappointed she'll be when you tell her-"
"Nothing." Rarity straightened. "I will tell her nothing."
"She isn't stupid, Rarity. She'll find out eventually."
"Oh? And who, pray tell, is going to tell her? Certainly not you."
"Maybe not. But somepony will. I'm amazed nopony has found out already."
"You forget just how much my magic has grown over the years."
Silence.
"Now, did I not tell you that if you talked back, you would be taken to the dump?" Rarity scoffed. "The only reason I am keeping you now is because I need you to do one last favor for me."
"One last fa-"
"Ah ah ah. Not another word, darling. And that goes for the rest of you too." Rarity's gaze moved from mannequin to mannequin. "I must make sure this dress is absolutely perfect."
Desperation persisted, but only for a few more seconds before fading away.
By the time Rarity was finished with the dress, a couple weeks had passed. She made sure the princess got top billing, apologizing to her other customers and assuring them that they would receive their orders as soon as possible.
About the only downside of it all was the frequent pleading. The constant begging. The horrible asking of "when are you going to free us?" and "why are you doing this?" It was annoying, but Rarity wasn't about to oblige. She would not stoop to their levels. She kept her focus on her work.
When she gave the dress a look-over to make sure it was fit, she turned to the one mannequin who had been the most grating throughout the whole process. The one who had begged the most, and tried to appeal to her.
"Darling." Rarity took a deep breath. "It is time."
The mannequin didn't respond. Rarity slid the dress on and fixed it up accordingly, ignoring the pleas that had escalated to nearly inarticulate yells. Once it was secure, she took a few steps backwards, eyeing the mannequin and the dress curiously and trying hard not to laugh.
Because really, a princess trying on a dress made from her own material? And a dress made for her mentor, to boot? It was a gorgeously rich bout of irony.
The breath that came forth was shaky. "D-does...does it look-"
"Divine? Absolutely." Rarity's eyes shone with light that could have illuminated the entire room. "Using your material was the right call. Had I used any of the others'..." She shuddered, didn't bother to finish the sentence, and sent the thought to rot, instead doing a detailed visual examination of the dress.
It was a gorgeous shade of red, of course. Combined with a little glitter and a few layers of frills in the colors of the Princess of the Sun herself, it struck a good balance between stunning and simplistic. And on this particular mannequin...
Well, did it really matter? It was going to be discarded anyway.
With a soft satisfied sigh, she took off the dress and hung it on a clothes hanger, then pulled a paper and a quill out of her desk drawer and got to writing.
Dear Princess Celestia,
Thank you ever so kindly for coming to me with this favor. I am happy to report that I have completed your order per your request and it is ready to be picked up. Per policy, I will hold this order for two weeks. If it isn't picked up by then, I am afraid I will have to resell it in the shop. My apologies for any inconvenience this may cause.Thank you for shopping at Carousel Boutique. We appreciate your business.
From,
Rarity
The yells escalated into screams. Screams that Rarity couldn't ignore no matter how hard she tried. Her hooves were pressed into the table, and her frustration was rising and rising.
If this was how they were going to be, then so be it.
"ENOUGH!!" She leapt off of her stool and glared at the mannequins. "I have had it with your constant whining and moaning! Can't you see that you all contain material nopony else has? Can't you see the impact you've...no, the impact I've made across Equestria with your help? Or are you all too busy throwing tantrums like little fillies over a mess you got yourselves into?" Her nostrils flared, allowing a sharp exhale to blow through them. "I have given my generosity to you many times over the years. Now, it's time for you all to do the same."
Her hooves took her to the mannequin who had modeled Celestia's dress. She cradled a hoof under its neck, her expression turning soft. "And you...you've played your part."
"What do you mean, 'it's time for us to do the same'? Are you implying that we haven't been generous to you before? Because I can name several in-"
"Shh shh shhhhh." Rarity pressed her hoof to its lips. "Do not fight fate, darling. And please, don't get your hopes up. Your material may be inferior, but the princess's dress was nothing more than a simple stroke of luck."
"Rarity...I want to help you. But are you so willing to turn against your friends for the sake of making it big in the fashion industry?" The mannequin's voice cracked on the last question. "Try to remember who I am. Try to remember all of the adventures we've been on. All of the things you've done for me. All of the things I've done for you!"
Feeling a headache beginning to form, Rarity sat down. "Hasn't it been made well and clear what my stance is on this matter? Stop trying. For your sake, mine, and that of the others."
The silence that fell across the room was awkward and stressful, for all involved parties.
When it became clear that there was no more backlash, Rarity began the process of preparing the letter for delivery while mentally preparing herself for the inevitable trip to the dump that she would have to stop at first. The mannequin was swept up in her magic and taken out the door like it was nothing more than a shopping bag, and the room fell silent for all but a few moments.
A chorus of voices that once joined in songs of melodious and uplifting harmony now joined in a song of fear, sadness, and resignation. Bandages that hadn't been replaced in weeks began to peel off, revealing streaks of blood that trickled down and dripped onto the floor.
"We want to be free. When can we be free?"