Chapter 3
Rarity hummed to herself as she trotted around her boutique making sure everything looked perfect for whichever customer would wander in next. She straightened out the dresses on the racks, rearranged some of the new hats she’d made yesterday—the maroon beret looked far better in front—and only barely resisted the urge to give the top shelves a swift dusting. Only now did she notice the light snowfall outside.
The pegasi were testing the cloud quality and inspecting the snowflakes as they always did when it was time to usher in the winter. They wouldn’t let the snow settle yet, but it probably meant no more customers for a short while. She remembered very keenly being annoyed about this last year, but as it was, Rarity merely smiled and trotted to the back of the store, making for the studio.
“It’s snowing!” Sweetie Belle called. The little filly raced down the stairs at speeds that could only be called hazardous, and it was all Rarity could do to grimace as her stomach clenched.
“Do be careful,” Rarity replied when she again found her breath. “And yes, yes it is. I don’t think it will last. I suppose you will want to go play with your friends, then?”
Sweetie ground a hoof against the floor. “Please? I can do my chores later, I promise!”
“Of course,” Rarity smiled. “Go on then!”
With a wordless cry of joy, Sweetie bounded towards the door, and Rarity resumed her trek towards her workroom. Of course, she fully expected Sweetie Belle to come back far too late to deal with her chores, and she would probably be wet or muddy. Rarity’s eye twitched at the realization. Wet, muddy and messy. Still, it was a small sacrifice to make for her sister to have a little fun, and Sweetie would move back to their parents’ house once they got back from their fourth cruise this season, anyway.
Only, the door had never shut. Rarity turned around to find Sweetie Belle standing in the doorway giving her an odd look.
“You’re really happy,” Sweetie said, the words almost an accusation. Her head was at an angle.
“I suppose I am, at that,” Rarity shrugged. “Off you go. The snow won’t last,” she said, and at those words, her little sister disappeared without a backwards glance. Finally, Rarity slipped inside her studio.
It was the truth, naturally. She was happier than she had been weeks ago. Sure, there were still ups and downs, and when Opal decided to make a bed out of one of her finer hats, she wasn’t quite above deciding that the day was going to go down the drain, but by and large, she was happy. Most ponies were happy most of the time, but to go around contemplating that fact and relish in it, that was a different state entirely.
And every time she headed to her studio to contemplate the up and coming styles, she smiled. Before she had even reached the center of the room, she was levitating up cloth and tools at what might seem random to an unskilled observer, but within minutes, patterns were emerging. She closed her eyes for a moment as she worked, guiding her tools by magic alone as she indulged herself. She had one secret, if one could call secret what one didn’t fully understand oneself; these days the mannequins came alive as she worked.
The cloth pony by the far wall was no longer a faded white, but instead glowed a vibrant pink so long as she did not look. A hint of laughter played at the edge of hearing, and when the first of the mannequins was decked out in a half-finished pattern, she had to open her eyes and mouth both, ready to berate the next for not standing still.
It did, of course. The pony-shaped thing stood wooden and immobile, passively awaiting her next move. Why would it ever do anything else? Rarity clicked her tongue and shook her head at herself. She knew where she was getting her inspiration these days. Sure enough, she plied her trade designing with the intent of spreading fabulosity far and wide, but in her mind, every single scrap of cloth came to rest on the flank of the same single pink pony.
Granted, it also helped if she could occasionally pretend she was pricking a certain pompous prince on the flank with her needles, but that was less of an issue now than it had been before. It was a filly’s pastime, a childish pleasure against a slight that had somehow lost its power lately. She could think of her catastrophic expectations without any pain.
And again her mind wandered to Pinkie Pie. Or rather, she figured, to the dress she had made.
“I really ought to thank Pinkie Pie for letting me do that for her,” Rarity murmured, though she had done exactly that. She had thanked her, but as she completed that thought, she also remembered her own words from weeks hence. During one of those many talks with Pinkie Pie, chats she’d now come to miss, she had promised to make up some conversational misstep to her—yet she never did.
Rarity was outside the boutique before she knew what she was doing. It was rather unlike her to be so impulsive, but then, she was hardly one to fail to live up to her obligations, either. Rarity adopted a slow trot as she made for Sugarcube corner, but she’d barely made it halfway, seeking to cut through Ponyville’s market square, when she spotted two of her friends.
“Howdy, Rarity!” Applejack called. The farmpony stood behind her stall as she did every Wednesday during market, waving at her from behind a prodigious amount of apples speckled by the light snowfall. Her only current customer beamed at her as well. Time saved, then.
“Hi!” Pinkie said, bouncing an apple on her head before devouring the fruit in one bite.
“You’re paying for that, right?” Applejack murmured, frowning.
“Hello, girls,” Rarity replied, trotting over to join the pair. “How are you?”
“Oh, just dandy,” Applejack said, smiling. “Two more hours and I’m packing up, I reckon. Me and Pinkie were just talking about cooking and such. Trying to plan what we’re making for Friday.”
“Oh yes, Friday,” Rarity repeated, covering her mouth. “I had nearly forgotten all about the—the get-together for...” she hummed as she thought.
“The ‘Congratulations Fluttershy on Getting Your Small Animals Veterinarian License’ party!” Pinkie helpfully supplied.
“Which she’s had since before I met her, and that’s a long while ago,” Applejack said, rolling her eyes.
“Duh,” Pinkie retorted, adding in a little giggle-snort and reaching out to poke Applejack’s chest. “I know that, but what you don’t know, and what I didn’t know, but what I know now, is that she never had a celebration, so we’re fixing that!”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, of course,” Rarity said, giggling despite herself. “And I know Fluttershy is looking forward to the soiree.”
“Ain’t no pony that doesn’t look forward to one of Pinkie’s parties, a’course,” Applejack shrugged, grinning.
“That isn’t why I am here, though,” Rarity said.
“Don’t suppose you’re here for a bushel of apples either, huh?” Applejack asked. “Sales’re a bit slow. The apples are going away at a decent rate despite that though, so thanks for that,” she added, frowning as Pinkie Pie buried her head in one of the apple crates.
“Welcome!” Pinkie replied, pausing mid-munch to perk her ears. “Oh, wait. Are you here because you wanna hang out?” she asked, beaming at Rarity.
“Not quite, but all this talk of food is quite relevant,” Rarity retorted, raising a brow as Pinkie’s smile sagged a bit. “See, I do recall me owing you a favor, as it were. Would you like to have lunch tomorrow? My treat.”
“Oh wow, would I!” Pinkie chirped, her mirth returned in full. The pink pony bounced up and down on the spot. “That would be great!”
“Lovely. Well, it is no big thing, but I will reserve us a table at a café somewhere just to save us the inconvenience of the after-work rush. Come by after I close the shop tomorrow, would you?” Rarity asked, turning on the spot.
“Yeppers!” Pinkie affirmed. Both she and Applejack waved as the unicorn made her way back towards her home. Rarity’s whole body felt light as she trotted along, pausing only to duck her head inside The Eight Plates to let the owner know she’d like a table tomorrow afternoon. With business settled, she set course for home, for dinner, and for bed.
Rarity groaned and levitated her eye cover away, squinting. She lay there, half awake under the merciless morning sun, wondering what had awoken her whilst brushing aside the last of the cobwebs of nonsensical dreams. A moment later, somepony hammered on her door with intensity that suggested it wasn’t the first time. Grimacing, Rarity slipped off her bed and marched over to her vanity, giving her mane the simplest of treatments. If somepony was so rude as to want her before opening hours—and before breakfast, too—they could wait.
And wait they did, every thirty seconds punctuated by a set of knocks. Rarity’s frown grew and grew until finally she set her brush aside and descended the stairs. Sweetie Belle would of course be at school, and all of her friends knew better than to impose this early.
Well, most of them did, and Rainbow Dash would probably knock on her window. Rarity sighed and grabbed the door with a burst of magic, flinging it open, coming face to face with a vaguely familiar grey-maned stallion with a chef’s hat.
“In case you failed to notice, the boutique is not yet open,” Rarity suggested, putting on a painfully tight smile. “The opposite of that being closed. As in, not available.”
“Yes, yes, awfully sorry,” the larger stallion mumbled, coughing and shifting his weight. “It’s just that I’ll soon open my restaurant for the day, and us professionals, we can’t very well take breaks in the middle of the day, now can we?”
Rarity shrugged affably. She recognized him now, having designed a line of uniforms for Second Helping’s restaurant staff.
“I suppose not,” Rarity allowed. “All the same, unless this is an emergency of fashion—”
Rarity’s eyes went wide as she let that notion enter her head. “Wait. Is that it? Are the bow ties too garish? Did I miss my mark? Are the aprons not perfect?”
“No, nothing of the sort,” Second Helping said, grinning until his eyes crinkled. “No, your work is exquisite, and I cannot thank you enough!”
“Ah. Well, it is good of you to say so,” Rarity replied, touching her mane. Her ill humors were rapidly fading. “How may I be of assistance?”
“Well, I was talking to Buttercream of The Eight Plates just yesterday night,” the stallion said, averting his eyes. “And she was awfully proud of having booked a reservation for two for you at her cafe.”
“I frequently dine out,” Rarity countered, tilting her head, to which Second Helping nodded, his smile widening a bit.
“Of course. If you say so. Now, no ill will towards Buttercream, but honestly, we both know that refined patrons such as yourself would accept only the very best. We also know, let’s be equally honest,” he added, clearing his throat. “The Eight Plates is such a common place compared to my restaurant. I would be glad to offer the two of you free tables if you would eat at The Silvered Fork instead.”
Rarity opened her mouth to reply, closed it again, and opened it yet again, grasping for words.
“Well. Ah. Truly, bits are no object, but I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” Rarity replied.
“Excellent! I’ll keep a table free, thank you!” Second Helping said, grinning. “I knew you were a mare of good taste.”
“I am, at that, when you put it like that. Good day.” Rarity smiled, closing the door on the rather unexpected yet not unwelcome visitor.
Barely had Rarity finished her breakfast, a simple daisy baguette almost half-finished when her door was again beset with the hammering of hooves. She bit back a sigh and levitated the leftovers to the kitchen sink, trotting towards the door with a call of “coming!”
“Ah. Miss Rarity. It has came to my attention that you are seeking to dine at a substandard establishment. Now, surely you’ve heard of my restaurant, The Golden Rose, yes?”
Mercifully, Pinkie Pie didn’t knock. Her first thought was that she was glad to see her, but the second one was that for once, she was appreciative of Pinkie’s minor break in decorum, walking straight in despite it being past opening hours.
“Hi Rarity! Oh, wow, you look great!” Pinkie gasped.
Rarity looked up from her work fastening the last clasp of the simple white-and-blue dress she wore, offering Pinkie a brief smile.
“Thank you. I think you are a little underdressed, though. It’s a shame. I would have loved to see you in the dress I made you,” Rarity said. Once she’d spoken the words, she realized how much she wanted to see exactly that. She bit her lower lip, staring at Pinkie Pie, lost in thought.
“Oh. Uh. Whoops?” Pinkie suggested, peering down at her own neck. “Did I do something wrong? Sorry! You just said that it wasn’t a big deal, and I thought big dresses were for big deals. I was sure I had it right this time, so—”
“No, you’re quite right,” Rarity sighed, puffing out her cheeks. “You could of course not have known.” After a moment’s deliberation, she worked her own dress over her head and tossed it over a clothes rack, levitating over a brush to set her mane straight again.
“Apparently,” Rarity continued. “We are dining at The Crystal-Gilded Carafe tonight.”
Pinkie Pie blinked.
“The huge fancy restaurant they opened last year,” Rarity said, her smile decidedly lopsided. “I’m honestly not quite certain how it all happened, but there we are.”
“You probably mean ‘we’re going there’. We’re still in your shop. But oh, wait, is that the place with the shiny windows and the even shinier tables?” Pinkie asked, her eyes slowly widening. “But you just took off your pretty dress!”
“Quite so,” agreed Rarity, rolling her jaw as she put her brush aside. “It would be poor taste for me to wear proper attire if you do not. We’ll be late if we don’t leave now, and besides, the natural look is in again. It is this week, anyway,” she shrugged. “Shall we?"
“We should! I’ve only eaten lunch twice today so I would have room for food with you!” Pinkie said, bouncing over the door. Glancing back at Rarity, she smiled broadly before reaching out for the door handle with her mouth, holding it open for her. The unicorn giggled as she stepped through, smiling at her friend.
“Well, somepony knows manners,” Rarity commented. “Thank you.”
“I thought you’d like that!” Pinkie said, grinning wide as she trotted up to walk side by side with Rarity. “But then, I also thought Applejack would love to be repaid for all the apples I ate with a song about how many apples I ate and how much I liked them, so I guess it was about time I guessed right.”
“I’m sure it was a very nice song,” Rarity offered.
“Oh it was! You should have heard it. I think it’s easily in the top ten of my apple-related songs for this week!” Pinkie agreed, slowly coming to a halt, and Rarity stopped with her. It wasn’t a terribly long walk to the restaurant, and now it loomed before them. The afternoon sun reflected off pristine windows, playing with the large gem that adorned the sign above the building’s facade. A lesser pony might be intimidated by the sheer opulence visible through its front, neat tables all in a row polished and cleaned with care, the plates alone worth half again as much as a rack of Rarity’s weekly creations.
At least, Rarity assumed it would be a little frightening to others. Even she herself felt a little uncomfortable under the disdainful glances of the waiters paid in excess to make the customers feel important through feeling unimportant.
Pinkie Pie giggled as she made for the door. With a little shrug, Rarity followed. It was a terrible idea, of course. She half expected Celestia herself to descend from the heavens to tell her this was a recipe for disaster, but that particular vision was given pause by another thought. Her mind was elsewhere as she trailed that incorrigibly messy pink tail. She really, really wanted to see Pinkie Pie in the dress. In her dress. Whichever one of them it truly belonged to.
“You have a reservation, I presume,” a tall mare stated more than asked the very second they were inside. Her voice was the only noise outside of the muffled clinks and clatters of culture, the dark unicorn stood behind a menu-bearing pedestal in a landscape of rare wood and exquisite marble. Rarity bit her lower lip, casting a glance over her flank. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to find a café instead.
“Sure we do! Hey, do you guys have pie?” Pinkie Pie asked.
“Our menu—” the waitress began after a polite pause.
“You do now! Hi, I’m Pinkie Pie!” Pinkie giggled, extending a hoof while she shot a glance at Rarity. “Gets them every time,” she whispered, her hoof ignored.
“Ah, hah. There should be a reservation for two under ‘Rarity’,” the unicorn suggested before the tie-wearing mare’s frown swallowed her face.
“So there is,” the waitress responded, sounding rather displeased with that singular fact. “If you would follow me?”
Not twenty seconds later, Pinkie Pie and Rarity found themselves seated in a rather secluded corner table by the window. It was as if though the owner of the establishment, one Amethyst Gleam, foresaw their need for a little privacy. Perhaps he knew Pinkie Pie, then? Rarity shrugged and levitated up the menu, idly browsing the salads.
“They really don’t have pie,” Pinkie said, her eyes and snout creeping over the rim of her own menu to stare down at Rarity.
“It’s in the dessert menu, dear,” Rarity commented.
“Oh. Why?”
“Because they’re dessert pies,” Rarity sighed. They were already attracting glares; Pinkie had both her hooves on the table. The unicorn drew back a bit and cleared her throat. “For dinner, you’ll mostly find pasta and heavier salads with sauce.”
Pinkie Pie sat back down and nodded. “Okie-dokie. I guess everything else looks tasty too, just wondering!”
“Volume, darling,” Rarity admonished, but it was a half-hearted comment. It was remarkable how Pinkie’s little and not-so-little eccentricities had become manageable over the years. Things for Rarity to weave around rather than mash her head against. When Pinkie Pie put her menu down, Rarity did the same, exchanging a brief smile with her before she sought the eyes of one of the passing waiters.
“Have the madames decided?” an arch and stiff stallion asked, eyes barely cracked open as he gazed down upon them.
“I’ll start with a simple salad of the chef’s choosing, and then I’ll have the pasta di neighpoli. Apple cider, please,” Rarity said, levitating up the menu for the unicorn waiter to seize with his own magic.
“Rarity, do you think I can just have one big pie?” Pinkie asked in an exaggerated whisper. “They have pies with chocolate in them. Why didn’t I—wait.”
The pink pony’s eyes widened as her smile grew in tune with her volume. “Idea! I can order a bunch of pies!”
Rarity winced and offered the waiter a brief grin that was entirely insufficient before she turned towards her friend.
“I don’t think they would appreciate that,” Rarity suggested. The statue-like waiter said nothing, but the next table over had started muttering. “It’s usually one from each of the courses, with some exceptions,” Rarity added.
“Oh!” Pinkie giggled, holding up the menu for the waiter with an unbroken smile. “I’ll have what you’re having then.”
Rarity flashed the wooden waiter another smile before he left them in relative solitude, breathing a little easier once he’d departed.
“I’m sorry,” Rarity said. “This didn’t quite turn out how I had intended it. It’s not really inside your comfort zone, is it?”
It was a rhetorical question, but Pinkie Pie knit her brow and lapsed into silence that lasted for long enough for Rarity to begin to fidget.
“It’s okay,” Pinkie finally said, putting back on her usual smile. “Ponies are different, and it’s just like a game! Different set of rules, and everypony has fun in the end, right?”
Rarity pursed her lips and glanced over Pinkie’s shoulders. Truth be told, she was the only pony in the entire locale who actually expressed any joy. The unicorn felt a small smirk tug at her own lips. She suspected even Fancypants would have been bored with the airs put on.
“You aren’t even the least bit intimidated, are you?” Rarity asked, filling a glass of water for herself and taking a single, measured sip.
“Intimate? Here?” Pinkie asked, glancing about so quickly, her mane nearly sent the carafe toppling. She lowered her voice to a barest of whispers, a conspiratorial hiss that drew yet more attention. “I don’t think that means what you think it means.”
Rarity barely offered the neighbouring table a glance now. The mare and colt were obviously boorish rubes if every traded word between Pinkie and herself were more interesting than whatever they discussed.
“Intimidated. Afraid, Pinkie,” Rarity clarified with a low chuckle, nodding her thanks to the waiter who returned with two small plates of even-smaller helpings of salad. Pinkie Pie leaned forwards for a bite.
“Oh. That makes even less sense,” Pinkie giggled amidst mouthfuls of spiced lettuce and tomatoes. “What’s there to be afraid of here?”
“For a pony who makes a habit of trying to make Twilight pull her mane out with her antics around our dear princesses, perhaps not much,” Rarity allowed, spearing a small slice of tomato with the salad fork. “Use the cutlery at least, will you?”
Pinkie stared at her, at her hooves, then down at the fine silverware.
“Just use your—ah. Huh. I suppose that’s a bit of an oversight,” Rarity murmured. “At any rate, many would find it frightening to be out of their depth. I believe I would, if I didn’t know how to behave.”
Pinkie Pie shrugged and dug into her salad, finishing it in another vicious set of bites. Rarity subtly shielded her own food with a foreleg, but if that was a mild annoyance, the continued glances and glares from the nearest table was downright incensing. Rarity bit back a growl whilst Pinkie Pie swallowed the last of her food.
“That’s silly,” Pinkie declared. “That’s not something worth being scared of. It’s not important, like making sure your friends know you love them, or making other ponies happy. Oh, and making sure Gummy has fresh water!”
“If everypony got to choose what they were afraid of, life would be a lot simpler,” Rarity retorted. “I imagine most would want to be afraid of nothing at all.”
“You can try not to be afraid of silly things. And if you can’t, you can ask a friend to help you. I would probably be a little scared right now too if I was alone,” Pinkie admitted, leaning over to grab the carafe, pouring herself a glass.
“Truly?”
“Sure! But I have you here, and that makes it all okay,” Pinkie beamed.
Rarity took a long sip of water to buy herself time, brow furrowed in thought. The frank admission sent a warmth straight to her chest, and for a moment she thought she might choke on the water. Swallowing was difficult, all of a sudden. She let her eyes drop to the table.
“Perhaps,” Rarity murmured. “And in hindsight, I don’t think I would ever want to stop worrying either. It’s hardly the cheeriest of topics, but if you stop worrying about what matters, suddenly you might find yourself not caring, either.”
“I think that’s a really nice thought. That’s not sad at all,” Pinkie opined, reaching out with a foreleg, sharing a touch. “You’re really smart.”
“They’re your own words rewrapped, I should think,” Rarity countered, smiling back at her friend. Pinkie got up, neatly bounced around the table and seized her around the neck in a hug. It wasn’t entirely unwelcome, and in hindsight, it was a wonder that Pinkie had been able to sit still for so long without bursting into flame or just plain old bursting. Rarity shook her head and leaned back against Pinkie.
And on the next table over, two sets of eyes exchanged glances and hushed whispers. The dark red pegasus mare and the light blue unicorn stallion who had been staring every time Pinkie Pie so much as moved might have a point in that it was a minor breach of etiquette, but it was the last drop all the same. Rarity gritted her teeth and gently disentangled herself from Pinkie Pie.
“Pinkie? Be a dear and keep yourself entertained for a moment. I need to go have a little chat with our neighbours,” Rarity said, smiling at the rather nonplussed Pinkie Pie who blessedly nodded and stayed put.
“Alright,” Rarity snapped, letting her distaste known as she approached the suddenly far less interested couple. The mare focused intently on her food, and the stallion studiously ignored her.
“You two will kindly mind your own business,” Rarity hissed. That there was not a single set of eyes in the restaurant not upon her now save for the targets of her ire. “I am having dinner with a very good friend here, and yes, she may be a tad eccentric, but that is for me to appreciate, and not for you to sit here and judge either of us for!”
“That would hardly be a problem if you kept it to yourselves,” the stallion murmured.
“And we do! Now if the occasional laugh endangers your will to live, or if my friend’s habits threaten your humors, then I’ve half a mind to ask the manager—an acquaintance of mine, might I add— to remove you from from the premises, because I am frankly—”
“Hey, Rarity, look! I can balance both our plates on my snout!” Pinkie called.
Rarity barely had time to turn around to observe Pinkie Pie’s attempt to keep herself entertained. That, and to see that Pinkie Pie could, in fact, not balance two plates on her snout.
“I really thought I could add the carafe and still be all peachy,” Pinkie Pie said.
“Uh-huh,” Rarity agreed, keeping her eyes ahead as they walked. The darkness was slowly settling in, lightbulbs and firefly lamps slowing coming alive one by one in response.
“You know what I think? I think they cheat. They must put something in their platters. Plates. Is there a difference? Isn’t a platter just a plate with extra letters?” Pinkie asked.
“Platters are usually larger. Those were definitively plates,” Rarity suggested. A gust of wind sent leaves tumbling across the street, their rustle the only noise other than their own voices and hoofsteps. Rarity had started walking, and Pinkie had followed, but they had no direction.
“Oh, okie-dokie,” the earth mare replied, bouncing along for a little while. Soon, she mellowed down to a more manageable trot, and when Rarity made no reply, Pinkie’s ears drooped.
“Are you mad at me for getting us kicked out?” Pinkie's voice was more quiet now by far.
Rarity frowned. “We weren’t kicked out. We were asked to leave. There’s a big difference.”
Pinkie gasped. “Have you been kicked out of a lot of places? I’ve been kicked, thrown and tossed out of lots of different shops, rides and every place you can think of, and even I didn’t know that.”
“All I mean to say is, there were no kicks involved,” Rarity muttered, casting her a sidelong glance. Again, the smile she couldn’t quite explain threatened to show. “And no, I am not. There are those of noble bearing who know how to treat others, like Fancypants and Fleur de Lis in Canterlot—”
“I really liked them,” Pinkie offered. “Fancypants even asked if he could try my Party Cannon after the party!”
“—and then there are those so obsessed with their imagined position they lose sight of what makes you, well, a nice person,” Rarity finished, her words sounding lame and simple to her own ears. Still, they brought the smile back to Pinkie’s face, and that made it worth it.
“I don’t know about that, I’m just happy you’re happy,” Pinkie beamed.
“Darling, I said I’m not mad. I’m far from happy,” Rarity huffed. Slowly she brought them to a halt. The road was dark in front of them, and they were leaving the safe confines of Ponyville. Ahead, only the black of night loomed; it was impossible to tell if there were lamps ahead and if they were simply unlit. She couldn’t ever remember heading out of town down this road.
“Is it something else I did?” Pinkie asked, simple as that.
“Heavens no,” Rarity said, glancing over at her. “When did you become so self-conscious? I blame those witless rubes more than anything, I’m simply annoyed that we didn’t get to enjoy our meal. I wanted to say thank you, and this rather soured the whole deal.”
“Oh,” Pinkie piped, staring into the darkness with her. Rarity shuddered as another gust of wind swept over them, the cold decidedly biting, now.
“My turn then!” Pinkie declared.
“We’re taking turns, now?”
“Sure! It’s only fair that I get a chance to do something nice to make it up to you that you making up to me for making me a dress didn’t go so well!” Pinkie said, grinning for exactly two seconds before pursing her lips. “That makes sense, right?”
“Not in the slightest, but I’m curious now,” Rarity laughed. “Very well. What do you have in mind?”
“Oh no, no, that’s a secret,” Pinkie said, beaming and leaning over to touch her snout to Rarity’s. “I’ll take you next Monday. Don’t forget Fluttershy’s party tomorrow!”
“Secret, is it?” Rarity asked, turning on the spot and beginning her journey home. Pinkie bounced after her, grinning ear to ear.
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THE WARMS IN MY SOUL, THEY BE INCREASING! So much D'awwww going on here, its like the words are made out of concentrated, super sweet syrup
Don't stop HAHA
Tracking for an interesting, well-written RariPie.
Hmmm...Not sure if I like the pacing...
Not thats its bad, FAR from it, I just want MORE CHAPTERS TO COME OUT!
...
Ummm...Sorry...
...
ANYWAY,Great chapter, Tracking this story without a shadow of a doubt!
Now I wonder how you inspect snowflakes. Do you take a random sample and check that none has seven edges?
Oh and nice chapter.
Well this was an interesting development. I'm surprised that there are at least thre restaurant in Pnyville that consider themselves upscale though.
I kinda feel bad that they were ki- asked to leave, though. Only because it was because of something done while Rarity was telling some ponies off for staring at them.
I do however like the way the story is progressing. I think when a romance is given a slow burn it works out better. And, by my deffinition, a slow burn romance(at least in literature) is any romance that takes it's time to develop in story, even if it doesn't take that long in the story. In other words, when it's dragged out. The more it's built up to the better it is when the two prties finally...well, achieve cuppledom. Or something. My vocabulary kinda failed me there didn't it?
Anyway, enjoyed the chapter, looking forward to more.
New Cloudy Skies fic = much extra evening reading material over next week or two = awesome.
And an unusual pairing to boot.
This will prove very interesting...
Excellent as always. Definitely not enough Raripie out there and this is a welcome addition.
I like warm little chapters like this. Two friends appreciating each other, what better way to spend time.
This fic is awesome. The characterization is just so spot on.
Your Pinkie is magnificent, but the the ramping up of Rarity's attachment levels for Pinkie is warming to watch.
What are those pretenders doing in Ponyville anyway? Being a posh country pony is Rarity's Ponyville-identity. They need to take their flanks to Canterlot so the -real- snooty nobles can laugh at them!
1533516 I looked for ways to sneak in more of the other mane castmembers, and getting to bake in some anti-drama headcanon like that bit with RD was a bit of a treat, and I'm very glad if it worked; I've always been a huge fan of trying to preserve the status quo, I guess, hah. You're definitively spot on with the tension though. It seems to me that Rarity's oddly tolerant of Pinkie despite how different they are.
I hope the rest does not disappoint!
1533575 Thank you very much! And yeah, I'm keeping an eye out for that particular combo from now on. I never was in the habit of editing stuff like that after a fic's posted, or at least not during its posting. Good luck with your writing, too! Doesn't matter how fast you write so long as you keep moving, I say!
1534299 I'll freely admit that I've underestimated and de-prioritized Rarity in some of my fics. Now, writing her, I feel very bad about her. Am having a huge writecrush on marshmallowpony. Thank you for your kind words, too!
1535565 Thank you! I'm glad! Just don't overheat.
1535670 Responding for a very kind comment. Thanks! Hope it doesn't disappoint.
1535744 Hah, taking that as a compliment. You won't be waiting long, and thanks!
1535893 Very careful inspection, and a lot of patience. I imagine Rainbow Dash shirks snowflake duty a lot.
1536306 Hey, if cuppledom (coupledom?) isn't a word, it should be. Regardless, I generally tend to agree; this fic may not be very long, but I do prefer fics that take it slow. It's not just because quick advances can feel artificial, but because the discovery is a lot of the fun, for me. Some people I've talked to are getting tired of fics about how two ponies end up an item, favoring instead to explore how they function in a relationship. Me, I love both parts equally.
1536339 You are very kind to say so; I hope it's to your tastes!
1536551 I have to agree! But then, I'd agree if you said there wasn't enough of any pairing, so. Still, thanks!
1536697 Warmth is pretty much the best thing. I often don't care if it's friendshipping or regular shipping. Snuggletimes are snuggletimes. This, however, definitively has a goal!
1536707 Actually, the last chapter is Angel-de-Lis.
1536729 Much obliged, I'm glad you think so!
1537522 You dare insinuate Pinkie is a second-class citizen? Your house will drown in cupcakes and muffins and croissaints and danishes and and-.
Hungry now. (Thank you!)
1537860 Haha, that's the real reason Rarity's so vexed; they're encroaching on her turf!
1539528
Oh, don't get me wrong, seeing two characters together is great too, but they're two different types of stories. A story about a couple getting together should end once they're together, and then you can write another story with that pairing as a back...story...
Ya know, it'd be interesting if you, at some later date, wrote a story that used you're other stories, the ones that don't conflict with each other of course, as backstory. Heh. Maybe that could be next summers project; write three(or however many) short shipping stories, and then one bigger one based on the first three. That might sound like a lot of effort, but I'm not thinking of an over all word count greater than Lost and Found or anything. The short shipping stories wouldn't even have to be as long as Building Bridges or Best Idea... oh wait, you did kinda do that with Where the Heart Is and...the Appleshy story(sorry can't remember the title) ...actually I'ma just shuddup now.
This has been absolutely amazing so far please for all thing's holy keep it up
hooray for inigo montoya reference
halp, I'm drowning in the warm fuzzies
Restaurant forced to kick Rarity out after Pinkie breaks a bunch of their expensive crystal ware? That'll teach them to go stealing customers from other places.
I really liked how it's so obvious (to the reader, at least) that Rarity has a crush and how oblivious Rarity is, at this point, to said crush. I also greatly enjoyed the entire restaurant scene. It felt very Season 2 Rarity to me--I think Season 1 Rarity might have been a bit embarrassed by Pinkie Pie and her shenanigans.
D'aww moment of the chapter, I think, was: “Sure! But I have you here, and that makes it all okay,” Pinkie beamed. D'awww!
These two are ridiculously adorable together. It's almost pain-inducing
.
Did Pinkie's song go something like this: "500 Apples are in the cart! 500 Apples she had! Pinkie came and she's to blame, how many apples are in the cart!? 499 ..."?
Didn't you mean "nice pony" instead of "nice person"?