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// Scene 5 
// Story: Rarity's Warming Eve 
// by Silver Letter 
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	Rarity dreamt of a filly dragged by her horn. A reversal of master and servant. An event long ago. She doesn’t dwell on it anymore but Sweetie Belle remembers the tale well enough. Poor Rarity had gone for kilometers, not knowing where she would end up. Then as she relinquished all care to the winds, there that lay before her was a hulking boulder. Secretly, it was a hidden vein of gems. But its true wealth was beyond the imagination of a filly. Every last one of those gems she found disappeared. Used in costumes. Borrowed by her mother. Sold and bartered over the years. Except for three, the ones that marked her. Being a fashionista isn’t always fluff and splendor. Some days, ponies never bothered to pay her much attention. Other times, she asked herself why she trudged on. Few choose a profession that some ponies look down on as pointless. Even fewer still stick with it, never faltering when the days grew long and cold and the fabric frayed. Rarity always had her family cheering her on but it was her own mark, the three gems, which were a reminder of her true self. Gems aren’t found on the surface like other beautiful things. It’s one of the few things that needs the ugly. The sweat falling on ancient rocks about to be crushed for one. That memory always stuck around. 

Rarity was sunken deep into dreamland when Opal the cat, awake at dawn’s first light, leapt on the nightstand to get a look at her owner. An errant paw knocked over a brass clock, one bought at an antique shop. The glass over its face shattered and her body seized up from a combined fright and alertness. She took off the mask and sat up, looking over her bed in a daze. She realized what happened to her clock and smacked Opal with her pillow, and called her a vile thing. The cat hid under the bed, her only sanctuary. Rarity used her magic to collect the glass shards and the broken body of the clock itself and set it all on the nightstand. It had to be fixed. There was no helping it now. 

The sun had barely risen but Rarity wasn’t going back to bed at any rate. She got up and smoothed out the bed sheet and duvet. She looked outside and saw a heavy fog dulling the sunrise at the horizon. She contemplated going downstairs and getting a quick cup of coffee but abstained. She was up early for once and she wanted to take advantage of it. Those designs that Coco marked up was still a dark cloud inside her own inspiration room. Trying to ignore it wasn’t working. The weight of its presence was only felt more. There was only one conclusion. It had to be dealt with. She went over to the armor and held up the designs that were once clean and hers. The armor had a more modern look now, streamlined for an age it wasn’t built for. The costume would catch the eye like a peacock’s feathers. If it could speak, it would not lull with soft words but shout and hope that whoever hears it would want more. 

Rarity’s magic worked non-stop. Her pliers and hammer pounded and reshaped. It’s not as easy as ponies think. Metalwork can demand as much precision as sewing and it’s a lot harder to correct a mistake in something so unforgiving. It was definitely not her specialty either. As the minutes ticked away, she heard her clock chime. It was 8:00AM. She was busy giving the armor a wholly new finish when she heard somepony, likely Sweetie, go into the washroom. She stepped back and examined it visually. It was finished at last. 

The morning was still young and Rarity already felt drained. Her muscles refused to loosen up regardless of how often she tried to stretch them. It was so typical though; she suffered through creativity like all the rest. Ever since she got those three gems on her flank, she’s never turned down the chance to sweat and strain herself, even on account of others. She’s given dresses away for free. When Rainbow Dash needed help learning about the Wonderbolts, she was there to teach her in the way she knew how. Nothing was given to her. She had to earn it. Raw determination in her life is almost as important as skill itself for carrying her to dizzying heights of empire. She rose so high that she can look around her. Her friends are with her as always. Twilight swims in the clouds. Ahead, the road is so gentle like a scenic bend near a green creek. Behind, her sister climbs to someday meet her. As treacherous as the road can be, a helping hoof can make all the difference. The secrets of life can be exposed but it also loses all of its power. Something like that isn’t always a good thing. If the pony just isn’t ready. It’s the hardest part of being generous. Knowing when to hold back. Maybe Rainbow Dash was meant to fail her test. Maybe Coco was meant to stay with Suri another year. Even if she could, Rarity wouldn’t dare hope to be able to see the future. She’s gone through that kind of power before and she’ll never go back. 

Rarity entered the washroom and twisted the steel spigot, letting a waterfall of heat flow into the bath. She looked in the mirror, checking the damage done to her mane. When it was full, her body slipped inside, contouring to the curves of the tub. The waterline reached her muzzle. The steam that carried the scent of eucalyptus dozed her off before she knew it. Coco was missing out. She was probably eating cold cereal and slept with a thin sheet in the guest cot. Rarity let that thought escape her. That mare had no right to interrupt the unrivaled serenity of a bath. 

An hour later, she had awoken; it wasn’t from an alarm clock nor her sister knocking on the door. It was internal, an intuition of sorts. Coco and she both have it and it forced her eyes open. The water was tepid and the scent was faint as if her nose was swollen. She got out of the bath and dried herself at once. She pulled the plug at the bottom of the tub and left the room as soon as she could. Something was amiss. She could feel it. 

Water still dripped from her mane as she trotted to her door and pushed it open. Her entrance had no effect on Coco Pommel, which sat motionless in the middle of the room. The mare’s eyes were affixed to the armor. Her face looked closer to white. Her mouth was shut but her eyes were utterly lost. That’s how Rarity would have described them. Lost in time, space and emotion. She’s been lost before in all those ways but never at once. It was one thing to contemplate the ways she could confront Coco. She would stand tall, a wall determined to do things her way. Because they were hers and they were right. But it was totally different to see her like this. All the strength in her heart and legs threatened to fold on her. Both felt like they were made of crumbling cement. She had no idea what she would do if her friend yelled this time. 

Then, Coco turned her head as if she just now noticed the other pony in the room. Before, it was just her and the armor, the one that became something completely unrecognizable overnight. 

“Rarity, you truly are the best in the world” she said scornfully. “You managed to remove all semblance of a decent pony from the façade that is your image. Well, enjoy your armor. All of it is yours to keep just like you wanted”.  

Coco stood and left. She didn’t say goodbye or give eye contact to Rarity. In less than a minute, she was gone. And there was nothing she could do about it. How could she explain that all her actions were done to help her and nothing more? Then again, it was probably not even true. Anypony could see that Coco wanted her name out there. She was the last pony to blame in all of this. Now it was she that stared at the armor. To her it was lovely but what does it matter now? A tear slid down her cheek, a streak of warmth. 

Back downstairs, Rarity saw Coco’s white sweater on her coatrack. It was something she would probably send for later. She wanted to take a long break from working. Maybe even a whole day. She didn’t care about the deadline anymore. It wasn’t as if she alone could fulfill it. She went and made herself tea. She didn’t feel like coffee. There was no point in getting anything strong. She sighed as she stirred the lemon wedge. 

Sweetie Belle came down, bouncing two steps at a time to the parlor. She entered the kitchen, smiling and rather cheery. 

“Rarity, I would like Coco’s input on a new design I thought up. Is she upstairs”? 

“No, she is not”. She wasn’t in the mood to give anything but the barest of answers. But of course not granting her an answer led to a torrent of questions. 

“What do you mean, Rarity? Did she leave? Is everything alright”? She looked confused and scared at the same time. 

“She left, Sweetie Belle. I’m sorry”. She stared at the tea. Looking into Sweetie’s eyes would be like confronting her about what happened and she wasn’t ready. At least not yet. She thought that Sweetie would go upstairs and sulk. Even criticism didn’t sound so bad. A failure like her deserved it. Her sister deserved better than to follow the same path. Letting somepony down isn’t something she would wish on anypony. She wasn’t a teacher or even a friend. Not anymore. 

“I’m going after her. Don’t wait up”. Sweetie grabbed her snow boots and scarf before flying out the front door. Rarity didn’t respond. She sat on the floor, with her back pressed against the cupboard doors. Her head listed and she closed her eyes.